by Regan Ure
It was hard to understand him without knowing about his past. All I knew was what he'd told me and that had been enough for me to understand why he was the way he was.
Then I thought about the stupid folder that had ruined everything between us. I hadn't even been tempted to have a peek at it. It didn't matter what he'd done in the past; what had mattered was what he did now. He'd walked away at the first sign of trouble.
I took a deep breath and released it. I didn't want to cry anymore, it wasn't helping me find a way out and it wasn't making me feel any better.
Most girls in my situation would be hoping that there would be a knight to swoop in and save her. But I'd learned through my past that that didn't happen in real life—in real life, people died.
I thought about Sin one last time before I pushed all the thoughts out of my mind. I felt emotionally and physically exhausted, but at least my stomach wasn't aching as much.
I lifted my shirt to see the dark bruises imprinted by the seatbelt across my chest and stomach. It was a good sign that there wasn't any serious damage. I thought about Matthew, at the gash on his head, and I prayed that he was okay.
As I dropped the shirt, I saw the plate of food and my stomach growled. I was hungry. I picked it up and studied the food for a moment. I was too hungry to care if Eric had laced my food with something. It was pasta with meat and vegetables. It tasted great and I began to eat. I needed to keep up my strength and I couldn't do that if I didn't eat. It was also another puzzling thing about Eric. Who made food like this for their prisoner? I placed the plate back on the floor and I got off the bed.
As I began to think, I paced back and forth. He wasn't really treating me like a prisoner. Yes, he had me locked in the basement, but he hadn't tied me up.
Then it struck me that he was treating me like someone would treat a person they cared about—well, except for causing an accident to kidnap me and locking me in his basement. But I knew Eric wasn't playing with a full deck of cards. It didn't make me feel any better because I knew he would not be caring when he took me by force and I would fight back. It wasn't in me to just let him take it from me.
He was unstable. I'd already seen the small signs and I knew if I fought back he would really hurt me. There was no way to escape the basement so I would have to think of another way to get away because, if I didn't, I was not going to make it out of this alive.
I wondered when Eric had developed this unhealthy obsession for me. Had it started after the hearing or had it been later? If Connor hadn't been such an overprotective brother, would Eric have gotten to me sooner? I pushed the thought from my mind, unable to deal with the answer that I might get.
I bit down on my lip as I contemplated what I was going to do.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Sin
I was frustrated and angry. Physically putting distance between Taylor and I should have fixed the problem, but it hadn't. She was all I could think about. I dropped my head into my hands and rubbed them over my face. It didn't help that every time I closed my eyes I saw her smiling at me and I felt guilty for leaving abruptly the way I had. Granted, I'd been clear that things between us were over, but packing up and leaving had been going a bit overboard.
When I'd packed my stuff, I'd had no intention of ever going back. Now, sitting in the house I'd bought for my mom, I knew that I had to go back. I couldn't run away from the problem. The only way to deal with it was to face it head on. I eyed the offending folder that still lay on the coffee table. I hadn't been able to open it up and look at what it held, but I had a pretty good idea since I'd lived through all of it—stuff I wasn't proud of.
Feeling agitated, I stood up and began to pace the room.
She'd told me that she hadn't read the folder and I believed her because, if she had, I was pretty sure she wouldn't have wanted anything to do with me. I wouldn't have had a chance to tell her that we were over; she would have told me to leave if she knew. I'd never wanted to erase my past as badly as I'd wanted to when I'd first found out about the murder of Taylor's parents. It was only a matter of time before she found out. I thought about coming clean with her, but I wasn't sure she would want to ever see me again after that.
My phone began to ring and I pulled it out of my jeans pocket. I'd expected it to be Taylor, but it was Slater.
"Hi," I said as I answered the call.
"You need to get your ass back here," he instructed forcefully. He sounded upset and it wasn't like him.
"What's wrong, man?" I asked, knowing my best friend well enough to know that something was going on.
"Look, there’s no good way to say this…" he said and I felt a sinking feeling in my stomach.
"It's Taylor," he admitted.
My heart stopped beating for a split second as I felt the fear crash over me like a wave.
"What happened?" I said tightly, already having every worst-case scenario cycling through my mind.
"She's gone," he revealed, and I felt my legs weaken and I slumped down in the chair.
"What do you mean she's gone?" I asked, my voice already thickening with the emotion I felt. I'd asked the question, but I wasn't sure I wanted the answer.
"She's missing," he said softly.
"How long?" I asked, my mind already jumping to the next action I needed to perform.
"A day," he answered. It was already too long.
"I just found out from Jordan," he added.
"I'll call you back," I told him, trying to ignore the fear I felt. I disconnected the call, not giving him a chance to say another word. I searched through my contacts on my phone and dialed a number.
"Yeah," the guy answered.
"You still tailing the guy I asked you to?" I asked urgently as I ran a hand through my hair.
"Yeah," he answered.
"Does he have a girl with him?" I asked, and I held my breath.
"No," he said and I felt my world begin to disintegrate around me.
Caleb didn't have Taylor; he wasn't the stalker. I'd put my guy on the wrong guy.
Fuck!
"You need me to find someone for you?" my guy asked on the other side of the call.
"Yes," I answered, hoping that it wasn't going to be too late. I gave him Taylor's name. He was good—he wouldn't need any more details than that to be able to gather the information he needed.
"How long has she been gone?" he asked.
"A day," I answered.
I heard him sigh on the other side of the phone. Twenty-four hours was too long already.
"You know the odds are she is dead already," he said aloud, which is what I was already thinking.
"I don't fucking care, I want you to find her!" I yelled, not wanting to believe for a second that she might not be alive.
"Sure, boss, I'll find her," he assured me before disconnecting the call.
I began to pace. My shock and fear turned to anger. I called Slater back.
"What happened?" I asked, trying to mentally prepare myself for what I was about to find out.
I didn't understand how she could be gone with a bodyguard glued to her side. How on earth had the guy gotten to her with Matthew around? He was the best that money could buy—I'd checked. It had been the only reason I hadn't hired a bodyguard myself.
"She was with Matthew," he began to explain. "He was driving them to the movies."
I held my breath.
"A car hit them from behind and knocked Matthew out. By the time the ambulances arrived, he was conscious but Taylor was gone, as well as the car that hit them," he finished explaining.
It was unbelievable that the guy had gone to those lengths to get her. I didn't want to think about what he would do to her if he was capable of that.
"Was she hurt?" I asked, feeling the fear clog my throat.
"We don't know," he replied. "Her blood wasn’t in the car, but that doesn't mean there weren’t any internal injuries."
I began to pace again, not knowing what to do next. She could b
e seriously injured and in the hands of some crazed stalker.
"I'm on my way back," I informed Slater. I had to get back.
"Sin," Slater said, stopping me, "it wasn't your fault."
He knew me too well. I pressed my lips together, trying to stop myself from arguing about it. It was my fault. If I hadn't left, I probably would have been with her and I might have been able to stop him from getting her.
Twenty-four hours. I closed my eyes for a moment, trying to push away the voice in the back of my mind that told me she was probably dead already. I would never forgive myself for abandoning her.
"I'll see you soon," I told him before I ended the call.
"You leaving already?" my mom said as she walked into the room. Her face was pale and she looked tired.
"Yeah, I have to go," I said as I walked down the hall to the room I'd been using.
I got my duffel bag and just started shoving stuff into it. My mind was trying to process everything I'd just found out while trying to concentrate on getting my stuff together so I could get back and find out what was happening.
Did the cops have any leads? Had anyone witnessed the accident? Did they have a description of the car?
I got my leather jacket and put it on. If I hurried, I could be back in an hour. When I reentered the living room, my mom was sitting in the chair.
"I have to go," I told her as I walked to her and dropped a kiss on her cheek.
"Okay, baby," she said, giving me a weak smile. It was still hard to link the person she was now with the mother she’d been to me growing up.
I found my mom's nurse in the kitchen.
"I've got to leave. Keep an eye on her," I said to her. She gave me a brief nod.
"You don't have to worry, Mr. Carter," she assured me kindly. "I'll look after your mom."
"Thanks," I replied before I left. I hurried to my car and as soon as I got into the driver’s side, I shoved the duffel bag onto the passenger seat.
I started up the car and prayed that Taylor was still safe. I broke nearly every speed limit, and within forty minutes I was pulling up outside Taylor's apartment.
I felt a nervous fear engulf me as I got to the door of the apartment and knocked.
Matthew opened the door and looked surprised to see me. A large surgical pad covered his forehead.
"Have you found her yet?" I asked as I stepped inside. The look in his eyes made my chest hurt. It felt like a steel grip around my heart.
"No," he said, shaking his head. He dropped his gaze to the floor.
I took a couple more steps before I saw Connor sitting in one of the sofas with his head in his hands and Jordan sat beside him, trying to comfort him.
Jordan looked like she'd been crying.
I didn't want to be around them. It was like they were convinced she was dead already and I wasn't going to give up that easily, not until I saw it for myself.
Taylor
Being imprisoned in a dark basement, I lost track of time. My bruises were still a little sensitive and Eric kept giving me painkillers to ease the pain. I think that was the reason he hadn't tried to push me for more. He made me food and let me out of the basement into the house to go to the bathroom.
I wasn't sure if I'd been gone for two days or three. The pain from my bruises had eased and any hope of being rescued had evaporated by now. If they had any idea who had me and where I was, they would have come for me already. Did they think I was dead already? It was difficult to nurture the hope that I might escape when in reality things looked very bleak.
There wasn't a way I could find to escape from the basement. I needed to get out of the basement and into the house to have any real chance of getting away. But I wasn't sure how to do that. The only time Eric allowed me to leave the basement was to go to the bathroom and he stood by the door to ensure I didn't try anything.
My healing bruises meant that my time was running out and Eric would make a move soon.
Eric had cared for me in a crazy, fixated way. He made sure I had everything I needed. It was bizarre that this same caring had made him want to kidnap and keep me locked up. He kept talking about how we were going to be 'together.' I wasn't stupid—I knew what that meant.
The nervous dread in my stomach grew when I heard the basement door open and Eric descended the stairs.
"How are you feeling?" he asked as he smiled at me. The smile was supposed to be friendly and put me at ease, but it didn't. It scared me.
"Still a little sore," I lied. I was still trying to stall.
He studied me with narrowed eyes for a moment before he walked to the bed.
"Let me see," he instructed firmly as he bent down beside the bed. His fingers reached for the hem of my shirt and lifted it.
"Does it still hurt?" he asked as his fingers pressed gently onto the bruises.
"Yes, a little."
I was trying to buy time, but I didn't want to be caught lying outright because I feared it would anger him.
"I think they are nearly healed," he disagreed calmly and I tensed. He dropped my shirt and held my gaze. It was like he was trying to read me.
"I've been waiting a long time for you and I don't want to wait any longer," he told me and my fear was overcome by the horror that I'd finally run out of time.
"I had to sit by and watch you get it on with Sin," he spat suddenly at me, his eyes darkening with anger and I held still, not sure how to calm him down. "But now you are mine and he will never touch you again."
I swallowed hard.
"Why me?" I asked, swallowing hard. If something bad was about to happen, I at least wanted to know why he'd chosen me.
His fingers reached out and trailed down my cheek. And in a few seconds, the anger was gone and in its place was a calmness I didn't trust.
"You're beautiful and you were just as beautiful at the age of nine," he told me. So this obsession had started when I was nine?
"The murder trial tore my family apart and the only thing that brought any light into my life was the sight of you," he murmured as his fingers trailed down my throat. "You were so young and beautiful, like the sun shining through the dark clouds. I knew you were meant to be mine and now...you are."
I tried not to show my revulsion at his words. He was mentally sick and there was no negotiating with that.
"I came here because I knew you'd enrolled, but I couldn't believe my luck when I saw you arrive at one of the house parties. I didn't have to look for you, you came to me."
His eyes dropped to my lips and my horror intensified as he leaned closer and pressed his lips to mine. It took all my self-control not to shove against him. Instead, I let him kiss me.
"You are mine," he murmured against my lips as he pushed me down onto the bed.
Oh. My. God. I couldn't let this happen, I had to do something.
"I want to be yours," I whispered huskily, trying to keep the disgust out of my voice. "But this bed is a little small."
If we went upstairs, I would have a better chance of escaping. Fear gripped me. This would be my only chance. He seemed to consider my request for a moment before he smiled and stood up. He offered me his hand and he pulled me to my feet.
My mind was racing as he led me up the stairs, holding my hand. I had to do something. I held my breath as we entered the house and he led me down the hallway. My eyes quickly scanned the surrounding area for anything I could use as a weapon, but I couldn't find anything. He stopped at the second door on the right and opened it.
I tried to smile as he ushered me inside and I scanned the room, but there was nothing—just a small bed and a side table with a lamp. It was the pictures on the one wall that made me stop. There were various pictures of me through the years, starting at the trial.
My time was running out. I turned to face him and he stepped forward.
No! my mind screamed as he settled his hands on my hips and studied me for a moment.
"I've waited a long time for this," he whispered in awe as he leaned
closer and I closed my eyes as his lips touched mine again.
His arms encircled my waist and pulled me closer. He backed me up to the bed. I was starting to panic as he pushed me down.
"Don't be scared," he soothed as he covered my body with his. I gave him a brief nod as his lips pressed against mine and his tongue pushed into my mouth. I opened my eyes to see if I could find anything to knock him out.
It was the only way I was going to stop him and get out of here. He reached for the bottom of my shirt and I resisted. It was going to end like this because there was no way I would allow him to go further. I would finally see the temper I'd been trying to keep at bay and it wasn't going to be good.
He stopped and looked down at me with a questioning gaze.
"I can't," I admitted, shaking my head. All the emotions I'd been suppressing came up to the surface and he could see plainly displayed on my face and in my eyes my true reaction to his touch.
I watched the change happen in his face. Gone was the depth in his eyes and I felt a shiver as his eyes darkened. His friendly smile spread into a cold and cruel smile.
"You are mine," he stated fiercely and slammed his mouth against mine so hard that his teeth cut my bottom lip.
I pushed hard, trying to get his bulky body off mine, but it was like trying to move a slab of concrete. It was then I realized that I wouldn't get a chance to fight and I wouldn't be escaping. He tore his lips from mine and then grabbed my hands and held them above my head.
"We belong together," he stated angrily. "And you will be mine."
The last bit of hope that I'd held on to disappeared and I wanted to give in to the darkness that would protect me. He pressed his body against mine and, as much as I struggled, I couldn't move. I was helpless and at the mercy of this crazy guy.