Stolen Fate

by S. Nelson

{ Chapter 6 }

  It’s so dark inside his car, my vision is inhibited from viewing the outside world. I have no idea how long I’m trapped inside the moving vehicle, and not knowing what is going to happen once we reach his house is driving me crazy. I don’t even know if he’s taking me to his main home or some off-the-beaten-path residence, which is so private I’ll never have the chance to escape. But even if I succeed in getting away, where the hell will I go? I have no money to speak of, and he already proved he can easily find me.

  I’m jerked out of my paranoia by a gruff voice next to my ear. “Stop plotting your escape, Essie, because it will never happen. You’re not getting away from me this time.” Drayden’s voice is treacherous, conveying his anger. However, there is also a hint of something else laced within, something I can’t put my finger on just yet.

  I don’t really have a retort for him so I remain silent, which apparently is the right decision. He leans back against the seat and breathes out what appears to be a sigh of relief. Or one of accomplishment. Not sure which one and at this point, I really don’t care.

  When we finally reach our destination, there is a flurry of activity around me. I’m hauled out of the car and maneuvered into a house and down a dim hallway. I’m being jostled about until I’m brought to a complete stop by a firm grasp on my waist. I know it’s Drayden’s force which stops me and I can’t help the way my body reacts to his touch, even though it’s not a gentle one.

  “Where are we?” is all I have the nerve to ask. I have an idea where we are but I want some kind of answer, seeing how he kidnapped me and everything. I mean, I know why he did it, but in my mind it doesn’t really excuse him.

  “We’re somewhere I can keep an eye on you until I decide what needs to be done.” He leans in closer and tightens his hold on me. “That’s where we are.”

  Why is he having such an effect on me? My body bristles with remembrance and oddly aches to feel his touch. I wonder what he would feel like touching me with a gentler hand. Ever since I locked eyes on him at the bar, I’ve been conflicted with what I was doing and who I was stealing from. And that’s exactly what I’m doing to him. I’m stealing his sense of trust not only in me but in every stranger he encounters going forward.

  And now, I’m quite possibly stealing his option for an heir.

  Only time will tell if I am indeed pregnant. I can hope all I want, but the fact of the matter is, if it happened, if we created life in this fucked-up situation, then there is nothing I can do about it now. I shake my head, trying to wash away the image of his future reaction if it is indeed true.

  Eventually, we come to a bedroom, somewhere on the lower level of the home. Because of the darkness, I can’t see much around me before I’m shoved inside a room. When the door closes behind me, I think I’m alone, abandoned to dwell on the severity of what just happened to me, but I’m wrong.

  I am not alone.

  Off in the far corner, a small light turns on as I’m looking all around the expansive space. I have only turned halfway around when I’m startled with the image of Drayden leaning up against the closed door. His hands are nestled deep in his pockets and his feet are crossed at the ankles, his eyes leisurely drinking me in. There is a half smirk on his face, as if he has the upper hand now. And he does. It’s then I realize although he shoved a bunch of my clothes in my old, beat-up suitcase, I’m still dressed in my flimsy attire of shorts and a camisole. No wonder he’s staring at me. I’m sure he’s pleased with what he sees; he is a red-blooded male, after all. I’m blessed with good genes. My ample breasts are what usually get me the attention first, both good and bad. My flat belly, trim hips and ample behind are what make up the rest of the package, making me some sort of fantasy to most. Again, this is good and bad. But right here, right now, I’m going to try and use my body and my good looks to my advantage. Maybe I can distract him enough to get away.

  I stand before him, unmoving for a minute or so. Then I casually feign exhaustion, which isn’t hard to do seeing as how late it is and the type of day I’ve had. The type of day we both have had. Raising my hands above my head to stretch pushes my breasts further into the space between us. I see I hit my mark when his eyes widen a bit, shifting his weight from one leg to the other.

  I dare to take a step toward him, testing his mood, which is undoubtedly still bristling with anger. When he doesn’t move, I continue on. Once I’m directly in front of him, I try to act as innocently as possible. “Can you please tell me what you plan on doing with me, Drayden?” My tongue sneaks out and moistens my lower lip. His eyes follow and land on exactly where I want his attention at that precise moment. When I look up at him, his eyes are hooded with desire, trying to wage a war between wanting to throttle me and pin me on my back.

  When he realizes he’s staring a little too long and a little too intensely, he rustles his form away from the door and takes a step toward me. I don’t move, and our bodies are almost touching. His scent engulfs my nose, instantly driving a pang of desire to bristle between my legs.

  “You’re going to stay put, here where I can keep close tabs on you, until I figure out the best way to take care of you.” I don’t want to dissect his statement because it can mean so many things. I try to distract both myself and him by stupidly batting my eyelashes up at him, even daring to reach out my hand and attempt to make contact with that glorious chest of his. I’m quickly reminded he’s still livid with me. Of course he still is. Why wouldn’t he be? I tried to blackmail him.

  My glorious, self-justified, ill-conceived plan is blowing up in my face.

  He grabs my wrist with such force I instantly grimace in pain. When he doesn’t release me, I plead with him, acting the true part of a woman in distress. “Please, let go of me.” His grip tightens. “You’re hurting me.”

  “Good. That’s my intention. And don’t think for one second I don’t know what you’re doing, Essie. I know you’ve probably gotten away with using that delectable body of yours to get whatever you wanted. But know this…” He pulls me closer to him, smashing my body against his. “I’m on to you. Your little act won’t work on me anymore.” And with that, he pushes me away, releasing my hand so I can try and rub away the pain now emanating up my arm.

  “For a man who claims to have never touched a woman in anger, you sure are rough with me,” I mumble, pushing my luck I’m sure.

  “You became the exception to that rule when you tried to extort two million dollars from me. What you should be doing is counting your blessings I haven’t strangled the life out of you yet.”

  I start to speak again but he cuts me off with the show of his back as he walks toward the door. He stills when his hand cups the handle and for a moment, I think he’s going to say something. Anything. But all he does is shake his head and escape from my presence.

  Then I hear the door lock from the other side.

  The sound is deafening.

  { Chapter 7 }

  “Let me out of here!” I scream as my fists pound on the massive door. “Drayden!” I yell as loud as I can. But there is no answer. I’ve been taken against my will, dragged to God knows where and locked up like a prisoner. I’m kind of freaking out here.

  After about an hour of my screaming and pleading, I give up. I beat the door for so long the side of my hand is red and cut in small places. My voice is hoarse from my pleas, but no one seems to care. How the hell did I end up here again? There is a part of me that is scared to death, not knowing what this man is truly capable of doing to me. But oddly, the other part of me is kind of relieved to have exited my current life, if only for a short while.

  Glancing around the bedroom, I come to the realization this must be some sort of guest room, complete with its own en suite bathroom. There is a queen-sized bed, adorned with a big, fluffy white comforter and four pillows. The walls are painted a neutral tan, bordered with crown molding running the entire length of the space. The hardwood floors are a perfect complement to the overall design. There is one
big dresser in the center of the room, close to the walk-in closet nestled in the corner. If this is just a guest room, I would love to see what the other main bedrooms--or any other room, for that matter--looks like.

  As I’m about to walk into the bathroom, inspecting it enough to see if I can even take a shower, I hear a click of the lock and a second later, the door is shoved open. It’s one of Drayden’s patsies. Crew-cut guy. He looks startled to see me so close to him but recovers quickly. “Here’s your suitcase.” He places it on the floor and gives me another judging look before walking back out. He makes sure to lock the door, as I’m sure he is instructed to do.

  Hindsight is always twenty-twenty, but damn. I really fucked up this time, and I don’t know how I’m going to get myself out of it. I hope I’m not pregnant. That will make things a million times worse for me. But I guess we won’t be finding out for a while yet. How long does it take to detect something like that anyway? We had sex about two weeks ago. How long is he going to keep me hidden away before he even has me take the damn test? Unfortunately for me, there is no one in my current life who will be missing me. I’m between jobs, don’t have any family to speak of and my rent for the month was just paid.

  Deciding to escape from the unknown, I make my way back toward the bathroom to take a much-needed shower. Entering into this space, I am instantly in awe with how impressive it is with its granite countertops, marble floor, and huge, separate shower stall. When I glance over at the massive tub, I’m torn between submerging my body in its confines or letting the multiple showerheads stream their soothing waters down my skin, hoping to wash away all that’s happened in the past twelve hours.

  I choose the shower as my best option. As I’m about to step inside, I think I hear the bedroom door open again. I wait for a second with bated breath until I decide I’m just hearing things. That is until the bathroom door swings open and startles me. I quickly try to grab the towel from the rack to cover myself but I’m too late. His eyes are all over my body before I can conceal anything from his prying glance.

  “Well, well. What do we have here?” It’s the other guy who works for Drayden, the one who gave me the creeps back at my apartment. His gaze isn’t just curious; it’s sneering and lecherous.

  “Get out!” I shout at him, but it doesn’t do any good. Every step closer he takes toward me makes me that much more terrified. I can handle the looks and actions of Drayden because there’s chemistry between us, that unexplainable pull. Not that I’m not afraid of him now, but I can handle him. But this guy, he creeps me out and makes me regress back to the memories of long ago. Memories, which still chase me in my dreams. Memories, which have unfortunately shaped the woman I have become.

  My cries startle him for a second but not enough to force him to leave. He never ends up reaching me, though, because we’re interrupted by the domineering presence of Drayden standing right behind him, suffocating the small space and making it seem even smaller under his intense, watchful stare.

  “Jansen, what the hell are you doing?” he quietly asks. But his tone is in complete contrast to his demeanor, tension radiating like waves off his body.

  Never taking his eyes from me, the man answers his employer. “Just making sure she isn’t up to anything sneaky.”

  “Well, seeing as how she’s naked and about to take a shower, I would say we’re good here. Don’t you?”

  “Yeah, I guess so.” He gives me one last look before he turns around and quickly walks past Drayden. I blow out a breath I don’t even realize I’m holding on to. And it is in that moment of clarity I realize I’m still naked. Again, I try to grab the towel from the nearby rack, and again I’m stopped from doing so.

  “Don’t even bother covering up, Essie. I’ve already seen it. And depending on how I choose to handle you in the near future, I may end up seeing it again, and again.”

  Why do his words both thrill me and scare me to the core at the same time? There is no denying the attraction fettering between us, even in this messed-up situation. But I’m soon learning this man is unpredictable, someone I will have to be wary of while in his presence.

  “You can fucking forget about ever touching me again. Not after what you did to me.” The words are out of my mouth before I can even think about taking them back. He moves so quickly I don’t even see it coming. He snags me so fast I slam right into him, my naked breasts pressing against his chest.

  He’s doing nothing to try and contain his raging temper, but his eyes are trying to display some other emotion. Was that need? “What I did to you? Are you fucking insane, woman? You’re lucky you’re still breathing.” He searches my face for a glimpse of remorse or even possibly fear, and he finds it when he tightens his hold on me. Satisfied, he steps back, spins around and walks quickly out of the room, locking me in with all my thoughts and fears of what just transpired and what could have happened had he not come in to rescue me. I actually laugh out loud to myself. Rescue me? He’s the one who put me here. Well, I’m the one who made him put me here.

  { Chapter 8 }

  A week has passed since I was brought here to his house, to be kept like some kind of felon. Part of me doesn’t blame him one bit for the actions he took, but the other part of me is silently screaming for him to let me go, to try and forget everything I’ve done. But I know that part will never pan out. It will never come to be a reality.

  I see Drayden at least twice a day. He’s the one who brings me my meals and when he can’t do it, he has crew-cut guy bring them to me. Maybe someday I will find out his actual name. Thankfully, I haven’t seen the other one--Jansen, I think his name was--since the day he cornered me in the bathroom. I knew I wasn’t safe in his presence and the fact he hasn’t been to my room since that day proved Drayden doesn’t really want to harm me after all. Or at least he doesn’t want someone else doing it for him. Either way, I’m thankful.

  A television is sitting just inside my door when I wake up from another restless night’s sleep. It’s a pleasant surprise, but it only exemplifies the fact I’ll undoubtedly be here awhile.

  I’m assuming he’s only going to keep me locked up in this room until he finds out if I’m carrying his child or not. Then I don’t know what his plans are after that. Praying every night that there is no child is the only hope I have left to wish for. If I am indeed pregnant, he can undoubtedly keep me prisoner forever. Or he can toss some money at me, have me sign something and discard me like the whore he thinks me to be. There is no telling which path this unpredictable man is going to take.

  One evening, as I click off the TV and settle under the covers, the bedroom lock clicks and the door slowly opens. I’m afraid to see who is standing in the doorway so late at night, so I close my eyes and feign sleep. I hear someone move further into the room, closing the door behind them. Whoever it is believes me to be sleeping but creeps over to the edge of the bed just the same.

  There is a pulsating current which hits me whenever he’s near, so I know it’s Drayden who is standing there, no doubt staring at me. But why isn’t he saying anything to me? Why isn’t he berating me like I know he likes to do?

  The silence is booming in my ears.

  I slowly open my eyes and find him standing at the foot of the bed, naked from the waist up, leaning against one of the four poster columns. I’m attuned to the fact he needs that post to hold him up; otherwise, he’ll stagger and fall over.

  He’s drunk.

  The small light from the bathroom allows me to see that his eyes are glassy and his head is swaying, trying his best to remain still but failing miserably. He’s still holding onto a glass of some kind of hard liquor, the sweat dripping down and hitting the hardwood floor below.

  After he’s done taking in my still form, he makes a solid connection with my eyes and winks at me. He acts as if he is holding on to a secret I’m just not privy to yet.

  “Essie, Essie, Essie. Whatever am I going to do with you?” He stumbles over toward the seat tucked in the corner
of the room and not-so-gracefully plunks down into it, putting his drink on top of the table kissing the edge of the chair’s fabric. He scoots forward and places his elbows on his knees, never breaking eye contact with me for fear I’ll probably disappear.

  We stare at each other for what seems like forever, although in reality it’s only a few minutes. I’m really sick and tired of his crap already, so I break the silence looming between us. “What do you want, Drayden?” I ask him, my obvious annoyance showing through. “Did you come here for a reason? Or are you just going to intimidate me all night with your drunk ass?” I can’t help myself. When I’m scared or uncomfortable, I end up lashing out, making me appear stronger than I actually am.

  He doesn’t answer either one of my questions, instead choosing to sit there at glare at me. Finally, after a few more minutes, he speaks. “Come here,” he demands.

  I put my head down and avert my eyes away from his intensity. “No,” I respond.

  “Don’t make me tell you twice, woman,” he slurs. When I still don’t make a move, he indeed makes his request again. “Come here. Now!”

  Still I do nothing, clutching the covers up closer under my chin, as if the flimsy material is going to save me from this man. I know I’m taking my own life in my hands with my stubbornness, but I have to take a stand. Granted, it might be futile, but I must still do this. He may have me locked away in this house, but I’m not going to give up my free will. He’ll have to force me to comply because that’s the only way I’m getting out of this bed.

  Frustrated with my refusal, he stands up, knocks the chair into the wall and stalks toward me. Anger and irritation shoot from him, hitting me everywhere. He’s pissed, in every sense of the word. Ripping the covers off me with ease, he circles my arms with his fingers and pulls me out of bed. He’s walking so fast back toward the chair I almost trip, bracing myself by latching onto his arm.