Chapter 11
POV: Gabrielle?
That night, I lay awake, wondering how I got myself into this situation and how I’d get myself out.
I replayed the first time I set my eyes on him in that restaurant—dark hair, almost black, messily placed on his head, and dark eyes, chocolatey brown, and tall—and those muscles, the definition to them was outstanding and not to mention that jawline—sharp, unforgiving, impeccable.
He was beautiful, any woman would think that.
But it was more than just his beauty that attracted me…it was the way he watched me, seeking control but not stating it. The way he made me feel somehow…understood, seen, heard?
But the more I thought about the date, and the trust I gave him, I realized that I always knew something was…off, and still I put myself in that situation anyways.
And the worst part the longer I thought of it was that—would being with him be that…bad?
Stop it Gab, you’re going insane. You’re literally going insane.
You can’t accept this, just because he’s attractive and kind at times.
Just because you want to know what it feels like to be with a man like that.
Just because you’re on your period and dying for affection.
Just because every guy you dated before was a literal…
loser. It doesn’t make the kidnapper better for you. It most certainly doesn’t.
I went to sleep thinking about it. That I needed to convince myself that Dane was a psychopath who I loathed and I would eventually escape.
But when I woke up in the morning, all I saw was his dark gaze.
And all I wanted was for him to look at me like that, again.
My stomach gurgled as I rolled over, stretched my arms above my head and yawned.
Then the camera crackled and I jolted up in bed.
His smooth voice traveled over the speaker, “Good morning, Belle. I’ll bring you breakfast now that you’re awake.”
That bastard was watching me all along.
His voice went over again, “How do you feel about french toast and a berry compote?”
“Sounds great.”
I was beginning to feel like I was at a bed and breakfast more than a kidnapper’s house at this point.
Within 20 minutes, he showed up with a tray of breakfast with two plates and two cups and something else dangling in his grip….what was that…a CD? Like an actual CD? From the stone ages?
“What’s that?” I asked, eyeing the CD.
“A CD,” he smirked.
“And what’s on it? Oh god, have you been recording me too?” I literally gasped. Sue me for being dramatic.
“No,” he laughed, smiling.
He enjoyed my dramatics I guess.
“Then what is that?”
“It’s something to keep yourself occupied. I’ve recorded some of your True Killer podcast episodes,” he said casually, as if he was used to doing this sort of stuff. Then he set the CD down on my dresser.
I was speechless, literally speechless. I just stared at the CD, before eventually bringing myself to look back at him.
“Are you joining me?” I asked, eyeing the two plates after an exaggerated moment of silence between us.
He looked over my face once, as if he was reading my mind. “If you’ll have me.”
He probably already knew what I’d say. “You can stay.”
He nodded, placing the tray on the ground then grabbing two pillows from the bed and propping one against the bed and the other against the dresser.
He took his seat across from me and pressed his back against the dresser and I sat with my back pressed against the bed facing him.
We ate in silence, as we usually did and when our plates were scraped clean and our cups were empty, our gazes met again.
Without speaking, Dane got to his feet and picked up his tray and started towards the doorway.
“Stay,” I said without thinking.
It was almost a plea but my pride wouldn’t let it become one fully.
He stopped in his tracks, glancing behind his shoulder at me.
“I’m not going to ask again,” I said with conviction this time.
He turned to face me. “So now you want to spend time with a psychopath?”
I frowned, narrowing my eyes on him. “You’re still a psychopath, that will never change but it would be nice to have some company. Not that I consider—-fuck it,” I laughed. “Just stay.”
He smirked, setting the tray down and sitting back on the floor. “If you want company then I expect you to ask the questions this time.”
I rolled my eyes. “Fine.” Then I let out a long, exaggerated breath. “I need your honesty for this one.”
He nodded, waiting.
“Why did you really kidnap me?”
He laughed, but didn’t blink once. “You don’t know? You haven’t figured it out, yet?”
I shook my head.
“Well, I’m attracted to you, obviously and there’s something about you that strikes me as….unique.”
“Unique?”
He nodded. Then continued, “You’re not like the others.”
My forehead wrinkled. “What does that mean?”
“I think you know, Belle.”
I did know but I wanted him to say it.
“Obedient. Terrified. Pathetic.”
A sharp breath escaped my mouth.
“I don’t like any of the three. Weakness doesn’t interest me. And so far you’ve passed all my tests.”
I cocked an eyebrow.
“Though, you won’t learn what they are.”
Of course not. “Why not?”
“A psychopath never gives away his secrets,” he smirked devilishly.
“I guess not. Next question then. Wouldn’t it be easier for you to just, you know, date me instead of kidnap me?”
He remained smirking, as if he expected this question, too. “Dating doesn’t give me the results needed.” He paused, watching my response with careful eyes then continued, “It doesn’t show me how you respond to fear or variability or confinement or my emotional intensity.”
“But locking in a room and watching me 24/7 does?”
I knew the answer to that.
He smiled wider. “Exactly. I run my tests, I make my observations and I measure.”
I didn’t even know what to say.
“I measure our compatibility. I measure your qualities to my desired qualities ratio. I measure your responses. And I make my decision.”
I gulped but didn’t take my eyes off of him. “And have you made your decision?”
His jaw ticked. “Not yet. There’s still a lot left to analyze.”
“And when you’re done analyzing what happens?”
“Then you have a choice.”
“A choice?”
His smile disappeared. “To stay with me or go back to the world.”
“Wait…you would let me go back?” I asked in confusion.
“Yes, if that’s your decision.”
“Well, I’d like to go back,” I said instantly.
His eyes turned cold instantly and I could feel my skin prickle with goosebumps just from his gaze.
“It doesn’t work like that, Belle. I will decide when the tests are over.”
“Of course you will,” I scoffed. I let out a breath, trying to focus on his words. “So, you’ll just let me go when the tests are over, if I want to leave, just like that?”
“Yes. If that’s your choice.”
“But I’ll remember you,” I whispered.
“You won’t. You’ll go back to your life as if nothing ever happened,” he said with a strained tone.
Something inside me stirred.
I would never remember him or this.
I guess it would be good to not have all that dysfunctional trauma.
But would I wonder what could have happened if I stayed?
“What are you searching for, Dane?” I asked, leaning forward on my knees, hoping he’d be vulnerable.
“For something neither of us have felt.”
I’d never felt so close to someone before…intimately.
Before I could ask anymore questions he got to his feet, tray in hand and said, “I’ll send you lunch later then see you at dinner.”
I watched him leave and replayed his words in my head.
For something neither of us have felt.
And I knew he was right. I hadn’t felt it yet, and I was dying to.