I thought back to ten days ago when I told him I didn’t want to see him anymore. I still felt raw whenever he crossed my mind, which happened more often than not, but I’d be lying if I said I didn’t want to see him. He was part of my connection to this town and being in it without him felt odd.
My day had been intentionally full to keep me motivated towards getting my life back together, but coming home I was exhausted. I dropped my canvas bag on the kitchen counter and set about placing my flowers in a vase. I turned and reached for the butcher block that housed my knives and kitchen scissors and found the whole thing
empty. Frowning, I checked the sink to see if they’d been put there.
Rosa’s chef and cleaning crew had come by the day before for one last day of help, so it could’ve been an oversight. But they weren’t there either. The pristine white basin was empty.
I spun around, completely confused as to where all of my knives could have disappeared to. I caught sight of the drawer that housed all of my silverware and dashed to it, pulling the handle open. Still nothing.
Sighing, I half-jogged up the stairs to my bedroom where I kept a pair of scissors in my bathroom. Grabbing those, I came back down to complete my intended task.
Once the flowers were in place, sitting pretty on the countertop, I began fixing myself lunch from the foods I’d picked up from the market earlier. Not being able to find my knives, I took to hand-tearing the ribs of romaine lettuce for my salad.
Whilst preparing food, it struck me how quiet my home was.
Back at the manor, it had been quiet as well, but there was always an undercurrent of sound. You just knew there were people everywhere. We employed a decent amount of staff to keep everything running as smoothly as possible, so the quiet was short-lived at best. But here, the quiet stretched on endlessly. At times I liked it, but sometimes, it just made the voices in my head so much louder.
In the quiet, I could hear Derrick’s voice begging me for forgiveness. I could hear Jason’s laughs at my expense. I could hear Rosa soothing me. All of these memories battled for my attention until I had to close my eyes tightly and focus on shutting them out. I breathed in deeply, forcing the air from my lungs through puckered lips to refocus my emotions. Feeling my head clear again, I opened my eyes.
I froze, rooted to the spot as I noticed a figure standing on my patio. The person was masculine with broad shoulders and a tapered waist, but I couldn’t discern much else. Every inch of him was covered
in black clothing. From the black boots and black jeans to the long sleeve turtleneck and the black ski-mask covering all but his eyes.
And he was staring at me through the glass door.
My eyes flickered down to the doorknob, wondering if it was locked, but unable to tell without physically checking it. I didn’t know what to do. My phone was buried deep in my purse and turned off. Even if it was on, it was still on the other side of the kitchen. I felt my chest rising and falling, my heart rate quickening as we stared at each other, both frozen where we stood.
Then he moved.
In no time, he crossed the patio and twisted the knob on the door. My heart sank as it clicked open and the rush of hot summer heat flooded my kitchen. I twisted and lunged for my purse, sinking my arm into it blindly, grabbing for my phone while trying to keep an eye on the intruder.
He was stalking toward me, unhurried and confident in his stride. I still hadn’t found my phone, and as he approached, I ran back around to the island. His long legs continued following me, and in no time I was pinned in the corner as he stood in the walkway directly ahead of me.
My heart was pumping wildly and my hands were shaking, but I reached for the toaster just to the right of me and tossed it at him. He deflected it and it crashed to the floor loudly, a piece of it breaking off.
Through the mask, I heard a low, angry growl before he lunged at me.
I screamed as he gripped my forearm tightly. I swung at him with my other hand, my fist connecting with his face, but he didn’t budge. I cried out as he twisted my arm behind my back, maneuvering behind me so I couldn’t hit him anymore. We struggled, me bending over to try and alleviate the pressure of my arm being twisted and him trying to stop me from moving all over the place.
My feet left the ground as he picked me up like a rag doll. I kicked and screamed, trying to get out of his grip, but he was too strong. I was still in the air as he carried me out of the kitchen. Realizing we were moving, my screams turned frantic. He readjusted me over his shoulder and I kicked over and over, trying to connect with any part of him.
Next thing I knew, I was flying through the air and falling onto a piece of furniture. I sank into the fabric with a thud and my head slammed against the arm of the couch. I blinked furiously, seeing nothing but stars and feeling like my brain was swimming. I tried to sit up and move, but there was a loud and distinct ringing between my ears and my stomach turned quickly.
The blurry figure moved in slow motion, coming toward me with a white napkin in his hand. He covered my mouth and within seconds everything faded to black.
a
There was a low humming sound coming from somewhere
within the room. My eyes were closed. My body felt heavy and I was sore. Every discernible muscle fiber ached like I’d been hit by a car.
Blinking felt like lifting heavy weights with my eyelids and once I’d been able to pry them apart, I was staring down into my lap.
Awareness came over me as I realized I couldn’t move. My arms were pulled behind me, bound at the wrist. My ankles tied together and then roped to the legs of the chair I was sitting in. I swallowed the lump that began forming in my throat.
It hadn’t been a dream.
I struggled. Rubbing and twisting my wrists, but my shoulders wouldn’t allow me much room without dislocating them first. My ankles were bound so tightly that the ties dug into my flesh any time I tried to pull them apart. My chest constricted and tears sprang from my eyes the more I realized I wasn’t going to be able to get out of these holds.
I couldn’t escape the dense fog that seemed to surround me.
Even though I could clearly identify my thoughts, my body felt like I hadn’t slept for days. I was sore and lethargic and desperate for rest, but my mind was screaming at me to get up and get out as fast as I could. The struggle between mind and body was intense.
Tears fell hard and fast into my lap and I could do nothing to stop them. I had no clue what was going on or why I was tied up this way and I was terrified at who could be behind something like this. I tried to remember exactly what happened before this moment.
I remembered seeing a man standing outside of my back patio.
And then the paralyzing fear when he walked inside and made his intentions known. Then I drew a blank. The memory stopped there. Who had been at my house? Who was the man who attacked me and where was he now? What was going on?
Footsteps sounded from somewhere unseen, prompting me to stop struggling and listen. I lifted my head just as a pair of black boots rounded the corner. Looking up, my heart sank to the pit of my stomach and a fresh wave of dread consumed me.
Jason Robert Brown.
He watched me, a twinkle in his eye, though his fierce jawline gave his angry face an even harder edge.
“I suggest you stop struggling before you hurt yourself, Alina.
TWENTY-THREE |Alina
I yawned, my body’s natural response to having been asleep.
After Jason discovered me, he put a needle of something in my arm and everything faded to black. I looked around, trying to discern something, anything about where I was and what was going on.
I was still bound with my hands behind my back and my ankles were still tied together, secured by the legs of the chair. Nothing about that had changed, but the lighting in the room had. It was slightly brighter now, as if the sun was shining on the other side of blacked out curtains. It seemed like I was in the front room of a house. A large window, covered
in thick heavy curtains and blinds, and a door to the right, a worn-looking couch to my left, and a corner, just up ahead that Jason had rounded some time before.
My teeth caught my trembling bottom lip, remembering how pleased he looked to see me like this. He was the one who had taken me. I couldn’t stop the tears as they clouded my vision and fell down my cheeks. What was going on? And why was he doing this? This was more than just a sick game to get back at me for leaving home. I needed to get out.
I tried pulling my wrists apart again. Leaning and twisting, I worked my fists in opposite directions, feeling like I was so close to freeing myself, when I leaned too far in one direction and the chair tilted over.
I fell to the ground with a yelp and a crash, landing on my right side. My shoulder burned with pain and my head started throbbing. My tears ran all over my face as I shook with grief, crying harder at the hopelessness that was overwhelming me.
Another boot appeared at the corner.
I blinked up, seeing a blurry figure standing just outside the room. The frame of the body was different. Bigger. Broader. I blinked rapidly, trying to see more clearly. The person took two large strides to me, wordlessly lifting the chair and setting me right again. I twisted my head left and right in an attempt to identify who it was, but they were standing directly behind me.
I froze, hearing the sound of a blade springing out from a pocketknife. I gulped and shook with fresh tears, unsure of what was coming next, trying to prepare myself to die. One slice later, my hands were freed. I pulled them to my lap, rubbing the soreness from the rope when the man moved in front of me.
Military buzzed hair and broad shoulders, dressed in all black, he looked familiar. It wasn’t until he freed my ankles and stepped back that I realized it was Joe, my former personal security guard. I wiped my face, staring in disbelief at seeing him there, right in front of me.
“Joe!” I gasped, trying to stand.
He reached out a hand, catching me on my wobbly legs, “Hey Alina,” he said in his clipped tone I’d grown accustomed to hearing.
I used his proffered hand to steady myself on my feet, feeling the effect of whatever Jason had put in my arm and the pain of recent events, “Thank you! Thank you so much. Where am I?”
He looked around, not showing much emotion. Trademark Joe.
He had a long and extensive military background, having been a Navy Seal at some point in his career. I didn’t know much about him, but he was always pretty no nonsense and rarely let down his guard.
“It’s a cabin in the woods, ma’am.”
I threw myself at him, wrapping my arms around his massive frame and hugging him. I cried again, feeling so grateful that he was here and that I was freed from that chair. I wondered if he’d encountered Jason on his way here and how he’d gotten rid of him, but I was too stunned to ask.
He awkwardly hugged me back. Another one of his trademarks.
He wasn’t big on physical touch. Or at least he hadn’t been the last time he worked with me. For a second, I thought about the last time I’d seen him. The announcement gala, when I’d ditched him as my security detail and took off to Cold Spring. I felt bad, especially knowing he’d lost his job right after that, according to Jason. But my parents must have reinstated him if he was here now saving me from this hell.
I opened my mouth to say something but closed it again when Joe looked over my head at something and stiffened. I turned, following his gaze, and immediately wished I hadn’t. It was Jason again. My heart sank seeing him there. He had apple slices in his palm and he leaned casually against the wall frame of the room.
“You finally awake?” he asked, popping a slice into his mouth and chewing slowly.
The pit of my stomach began churning again and I swallowed, processing what was going on.
“She fell over, sir,” Joe said, from behind me.
I dissolved into tears. Joe wasn’t here to save me.
Jason swallowed his bite and sighed, shaking his head, “I told her to stop struggling.” He smirked down at me, watching me cry for a
few moments, “Are you ready to listen, Alina?” He tossed another piece of apple into his mouth.
“What is this?” I asked.
He studied me, still leaning on the wall. Waiting until he swallowed his bite, he answered, “You kept running. Now you can’t run from me anymore.”
“I won’t run anymore. I’ll go back,” I promised, trying to reason with him.
He chuckled, shaking his head, “That’s not an option anymore, sweetheart.”
I sobbed, more tears dampening my face, “Please don’t do this.”
The wicked look in his eye softened, “Don’t cry Alina,” he took a step toward me, “this is for your own good. You’re a danger to yourself and it’s my job to protect you.”
“Are you going to kill me?” I asked between sobs.
He shook his head, looking mildly offended, “Oh no.” He stepped right in front of me, grasping my chin and lifting it so my eyes met his, “I’m not going to kill you, baby girl.”
I couldn’t decipher the look in his eye. It was softer. Warmer.
More affectionate. His tone softened when he whispered the pet name to me. His thumb rubbed on my cheek, wiping away the tears that stained them. I didn’t recoil from his touch like I did in the past. His hand was warm on my skin and I realized how cold I was.
“Okay?” he asked, seeking confirmation that I understood him.
I nodded, meeting his eyes directly with my own. My heart pounded in my chest and more tears leaked from my eyes.
“Stop crying, Alina. You’re safe here.”
I inhaled, filling my lungs and blew it out slowly through my nose, willing myself to calm down, even though it felt impossible to do.
I didn’t feel safe. Not even close.
He released my chin, looking over me at Joe, who was standing silently behind us like a statue, “I’m sure she’s hungry. Can you make sure the food is ready?”
Wordlessly, he acknowledged the command and walked out of the room, leaving the two of us standing there. I focused on my breathing, trying to figure out what to do. I couldn’t stay here. Jason promised not to kill me, but I didn’t trust him. It was only a matter of time before he went back to the man I’d grown accustomed to.
He stepped away, grabbing the chair and the rope left behind.
He was saying something, but his voice sounded distant as I noticed the door behind me. Light flooded underneath it, so I figured it led outside. His back was to me as I gingerly stepped toward it. I paused, checking to see if he noticed. When he kept moving, unhurried and unbothered, I took another.
Then I lunged for it. My hand clasped the doorknob, twisting it hard left and right, hoping it would open. It didn’t budge. I pulled harder, but to no avail. The doorknob was fused in place, unmoving and unrelenting. Two seconds later, I was slammed against the wall by my throat, Jason’s hot breath beating down on my face.
“I told you to stop running from me,” he said, menacingly.
I struggled against his hold on my neck, fighting for air, but his grip tightened. My vision blurred and darkened the tighter he squeezed.
“Stop. Running. Alina. Or I will have to kill you,” he threatened, his teeth clenched angrily, “Do you understand?”
I nodded, infinitesimally, with what room I had with his heavy hand on my throat. He released me, and I fell to the floor gasping and coughing for air. He stepped back, sitting in the now righted chair, rubbing the stubble on his jawline. He wasn’t the calm and collected man I saw a few moments ago. And he'd threatened to kill me if I tried to
run again. That was what I believed. I knew he meant every word of that threat.
“The doors and windows are bolted shut from the outside.” His breathing was labored, “You can’t get out, unless I let you out. If you try to run, I will kill you. I’m trying to protect you, but if you keep putting yourself at risk, you’ll leave me with no choice.”
“Why are you doing this?” I asked softly, trying to hold back the tears in my eyes. He didn’t answer me at first. I clutched my throat with one hand, staring at the floor, the silence of the room ringing loud in my ears. I blinked back the tears, not wanting him to see me cry.
“Do you remember when you worked for the publishing house?”
he asked, finally. Raising my head, I found him watching me intently awaiting my answers.
I thought about it. I was eighteen then and having just graduated from high school, was eager to work in the family business.
Because Jason practically ran every department, I worked for him quite often. He was different then, so much nicer and always willing to help.
Losing Her (Lost and Found Book 1) Page 23