Protagonized

by Shannon Myers

  I’d already pointed out the flaw in his plan when I demonstrated my inability to type with both hands. He’d simply suggested that I just type with the one I had.

  In response, I’d given him a choice finger from said hand.

  Fictional Jake would’ve understood, as nothing was more important than one’s career. Actual flesh and blood Jake was going to be taking another swan dive off of a high rise if he kept it up.

  “Okay then,” Jake continued, seemingly ignoring my attempts to strangle him by using the Force. “You sit here and fix the book while I go grab us some grub.”

  I kept my eyes fixed on the screen. I had a feeling if I looked at him, I’d give away my plan to escape. “Whatever you say, Captain. I’ll just be here, not writing this book.”

  His lips brushed against the shell of my ear and a small tremor worked its way through my body as he whispered, “It’s Detective, beautiful. Surely you didn’t forget that already?”

  Oh, he was good.

  I pressed my free arm against my suddenly interested nipples and squeaked out, “Of course not.”

  He pushed off of the chair and I fought the urge to beg him to come back.

  “Dry spell,” I muttered.

  Jake paused as he reached the door. “Did you say something?”

  Kiss me.

  “No?” A bubble of laughter rose in my chest that I tried to disguise as a cough.

  His brows dipped down. “You’re sure you’ll be okay if I run out? You’re not going to try anything stupid?”

  I shook my head, knowing my tongue was a traitorous hussy. My mind was filled, not with thoughts of escaping, but of all the things I could do to the detective’s body.

  Not murder-y type things either.

  One minute he had me straining at the cuffs like a possessed person in my attempts to end his life and the next, I was—well, I was in big trouble.

  That was all there was to it.

  “Okay. I’ll be right back.”

  The door closed behind him and I let out a rough exhale. Oh my god. What did that man just do to me?

  I heard the heavy tread of his boots on the stairs outside as I regained my bearings and remembered my mission. I had to get out of these cuffs and find help. I pulled the bobby pin from my hair and began jamming it into the lock at random. I’d seen this done on television, but hadn’t ever attempted it myself.

  “Maybe I’m supposed to use the end with the prongs.” I spun it around and stabbed it several more times before sighing again. “Jesus, Hayden. You’re sitting in front of the GD computer. Google it.”

  Bootsy wandered out into the living room and observed my efforts in silence.

  “In a few clicks of the mouse, Mommy will be free and we’ll get the hell out of here. Okay, here we go. Remove the plastic tip. Got it. Bend into a ninety-degree angle. Okay. Insert into the upper portion of the lock halfway. Be sure not to enter it fully or it will not bend into the proper shape.”

  I worked to follow the instructions. “Does this look like an ‘s’ shape, Bootsy?”

  I held up the now jagged bobby pin, but she was fixated on the front door. She let out a soft meow before resting her front paws against it.

  I frowned and went back to the lock. A few more bends and I’d be free.

  Three bobby pins and a million curse words later, I rattled the cuffs in anger. It was hopeless. Even with clear-cut instructions and pictures, I was still chained to my damn desk chair while my cat pined away for my captor.

  I rolled over to the door and bent to scoop her up, but she skittered away at the last second.

  “What. Are. You. Doing? You don’t even know him!” I hissed.

  Bootsy bolted under a barstool and watched me slowly roll across the carpet. Realization hit and I jumped out of the chair before scrambling toward her. “Climb in the chair, baby. We’re gonna have to take it with us.”

  Instead of cooperating, she bolted out from under the stool and took off for the bedroom. If I knew her, she was sitting happily underneath the bed, right in the spot she knew I could never reach.

  Especially not while handcuffed to a chair.

  Okay, I’d come back for her after I got help.

  I rolled the chair out onto the landing and eyed the concrete stairs with loathing. The four flights were a pain in the ass, even on my best day. To conquer them with a chair was going to require my entire focus.

  After running several scenarios through my head, all of which ended with me lying bloody and broken on the floor below, I decided to walk down backward. I took the first tentative step before pulling the chair down after me.

  I winced as it landed on the stair with a loud thud. This wasn’t going to be quite the covert operation I had hoped it’d be. I slowly made my way down, the wheels making a bone-jarring thud with each step. I paused to take a breath on the landing. There were still three more flights to go and, despite the cool fall temperature, sweat was forming around my hairline. Once I reached the bottom, I was going to have to cross the courtyard and then up another four flights to get to Aaris.

  I might as well have been scaling Everest. “See, this is what happens when you open the door to a complete stranger; even one who claims to be a cop,” I ranted to myself as I dragged the chair down the next flight.

  Four flights and one soliloquy later, I reached the ground floor.

  “Going somewhere?” Jake asked with a wry smile as he materialized from around the corner. I jumped back with a choked scream.

  “I—how did you—I—”

  He raised his eyebrows as I tried and failed to complete a sentence.

  “I just—you were—food,” I sputtered and was rewarded with his amused pout.

  “Damn, you just have a way with words. It’s no wonder you’re a writer. If I interpreted correctly, you’re curious to know why I’m here. Well…” He leaned against the brick exterior. “Let’s just say that I had a feeling you’d make a break for it the second I turned my back.”

  “So, you’ve been sitting down here for the past forty-five minutes doing nothing?”

  As if it had been summoned, a vehicle pulled up and parked. It even had an Uber decal on the windshield. Jake reached into the back pocket of his jeans for his wallet before answering. “I wouldn’t say I’ve been doing nothing. Why don’t you go back upstairs and we’ll eat.”

  “But, you could’ve stayed in the apartment the entire time. We might’ve avoided this entire situation,” I stalled, gesturing toward the chair chained to my wrist.

  “I needed some air. By the way, that was one hell of a speech you made on your way downstairs.” With that, he turned away and greeted the delivery driver.

  I’d been dismissed.

  He hadn’t even seemed all that surprised that I’d been planning to make a break for it. Hell, he wasn’t concerned that I might run now.

  I stared longingly across the small courtyard separating me from Aaris. It might as well have been hundreds of miles. My shirt was soaked with the sweat running down my back and my calves ached from carrying an extra fifty pounds down the stairs.

  I rolled the chair back over to the stairs, feeling much like the mice in Cinderella probably had as they’d rushed to get the key up to the attic. Aaris and I had talked about getting an apartment with a doorman and an elevator. Once we realized that we were in the wrong tax bracket, we’d ended up here.

  And this was nice.

  But, right now? I would’ve killed for that elevator.

  I paused on the second step. Why was I retreating to my apartment? Jake hadn’t demanded it or threatened me with the gun again. I wasn’t some meek little hostage—granted, I’d never been held hostage before—but I imagined that I’d never let someone with a gun order me around.

  Common sense demanded that I absolutely should let the someone with a gun order me around, but according to my parents, I’d never had much of that either.

  I watched Jake approach the delivery driver and once it seemed that
they were deep in conversation, I bolted through the breezeway.

  If I took a left, I could cut between two of the buildings and make my way back to Aaris’ apartment. I decided that it was a brilliant plan just as the rubber on my flip-flop buckled beneath my foot, sending me sprawling face down onto the concrete. The sudden change in direction sent the chair crashing down on top of my prone body.

  A weak mewling sound escaped my lips as I lay prostrate on the pavement.

  “Damn you, flip-flop. Damn you straight to hell,” I groaned. Defeat washed over me at the heavy footsteps coming up behind me. The deep laugh that joined them just added insult to injury. He hadn’t even run after me. It was like he’d known that I wasn’t going to get very far.

  “Okay, Speed Racer. Let’s get you up.”

  I went limp, forcing Jake to work to get me off the ground.

  “Leave me here to die in peace,” I mumbled, earning yet another chuckle from him as he brought me back to my feet.

  “If you think that’s bad, you should try falling thirty stories,” he observed as he pulled the chair up. The retort on my tongue died as the most amazing scents rose from the paper bags on the ground.

  “Oh my god, did you get burgers?” My mouth began watering and all plans to escape faded away in the face of greasy goodness.

  Jake checked me over before answering, “Well, that depends. Are you going to be compliant?”

  I nodded, and he unlocked the cuff around the chair. My relief was short-lived as he snapped it around his own wrist. I was now cuffed to him. A six-foot-six wall of muscle. The proximity made my brain go haywire.

  “What are you doing?” Thanks to our height difference, my arm was bent near my head like a bird’s wing.

  He bent to retrieve the bags of food. “Making my life easier.” He dropped the bags into the chair and began rolling it back toward the stairs, pulling me reluctantly along with him.

  “So, you’re not going to make me drag the chair back up by myself?”

  With narrowed eyes and pursed lips—I was beginning to suspect that it wasn’t a pout and more just how his mouth was—he bit out, “Look, I know you think I’m a prick, but I’m not making you pull the damn chair up four flights of stairs… even if you did throw me off a building.”

  I yanked my arm back, forcing Jake to stop. “You’re just going to keep bringing this up, aren’t you? Well, I’ll have—”

  “Jesus, Hayden. Do you ever stop? I just offered to carry the damn chair and you’re picking a fight.”

  “You should carry the chair. It weighs like fifty pounds. I could’ve gotten hurt and then where would you be?”

  He lifted the chair with one hand and smirked. “Fifty pounds? This thing can’t weigh more than fifteen, tops.”

  “Fifteen? You’re obviously impaired. It’s a beast and I’m lucky to have made it down the stairs in one piece.”

  Jake simply raised his eyebrows and continued to move effortlessly up the stairs while I panted and did my best to keep up. The smell of fried goodness was the only thing that kept me from lying down on the stairs and accepting my imminent death.

  “Did you pay for the food?”

  I wasn’t sure what possessed me to entertain the fantasy I’d been presented with, but if he was fictional, then it wouldn’t make sense for him to have actual money.

  He paused as we reached the fourth floor. I noticed that he hadn’t even broken a sweat and was breathing normally while I wheezed like an old man who’d smoked a pack a day for the last fifty years.

  And he was the smoker!

  “I have money. Law enforcement isn’t a volunteer position although it sure as hell feels like it in the early days.” With that, he began rolling the chair toward my front door.

  I nodded dumbly before being pulled along. It still didn’t make sense. Was his money good here too?

  It was at that moment that my neighbor, Eddie, poked his head out of his apartment. I wrinkled my nose at the strong chemical smell emanating from behind him.

  “You okay, Hayden?” he asked as he took in the handcuffs and chair before his bloodshot eyes came to rest on Jake.

  Okay, so Eddie could see him too.

  That meant it officially wasn’t tainted tequila.

  Not that I necessarily trusted Eddie’s judgment; I’d witnessed my neighbor conversing with a trashcan on more than one occasion. I blamed his bizarre behavior on the strange stench that seemed to linger around his apartment.

  Jake stiffened next to me and I knew that he must’ve put two and two together a lot faster than I had. If this were a Detective Hopkins novel, then Jake would be pulling his badge and laying on the charm.

  “She’s good. Aren’t you, sweetheart?”

  I nodded again on autopilot. He was going to reference something sexual and pull his badge in three, two, one…

  “She’s into some kinky shit and I’m just happy to oblige, you know? Listen, speaking of illicit activities, what do you have going on in your apartment?” He gestured with his free hand and I realized that the sly bastard had done it. He’d pulled his badge.

  Eddie’s face paled instantly, and he retreated into his apartment without another word. The door clicked shut softly behind him, followed by the scrape of the chain as it was latched.

  What the hell had just happened?

  Jake had managed to scare the shit out of Eddie, while ensuring that he didn’t try something stupid, like helping me escape. And he’d done it in perfect character.

  I was both in awe and enraged at him.

  My mouth hung open while my eyebrows had permanently become part of my hairline. “Why would you do that? He’s my neighbor…” I dropped my voice to a harsh whisper, “Now, he thinks I’m into kinky fuckery.”

  He nonchalantly pushed the chair to my apartment door and let himself in. “You’re really worried about the crackhead’s opinion of you?” He said it slowly, his tongue poking into his cheek.

  I sighed. “I know what you’re thinking, but Eddie isn’t a crackhead. He’s a mechanic, so he always ends up covered in grease and chemicals by the end of the day.”

  Even as I said it, I knew it was complete shit. It was the same thing I’d told my parents the first and only time they’d visited me. Somehow, it was better to imagine Eddie as an average blue-collar man rather than admit that I lived just a few feet from a crack-house—er, apartment.

  The latter didn’t leave me with warm fuzzies.

  Jake used his leg to kick the door shut behind us before placing the bags of food on the small table set off to the side of my kitchen.

  “Okay, lady. Your neighbor is a mechanic and I’m the Pope. Can we eat now and fight later?”

  No, we couldn’t fight later. I was a here and now kind of girl. I wasn’t going to just let Jake win without a—oh my god, were those egg rolls?

  My mouth began watering again as he pulled burgers and salads from the bag. Either he had quite the appetite, or we were expecting company.

  He looked up at me. “I didn’t know what you liked, so I got a little of everything.”

  Things the world would never know about me:

  1. For other women, it was fancy jewelry or handbags, but it had been a long-running fantasy of mine to have a man shower me with food like something out of Pretty Woman—you know, “I didn’t know what you liked, so I took the liberty of ordering everything on the menu.”

  My heart flip-flopped in my chest. It was the kindest thing anyone had ever done for me. If only he were someone I actually liked.

  He turned the bag upside down and a flurry of cocktail napkins rained down onto the table top. Somehow, without knowing a thing about me, Jake had gone and gotten food from my favorite restaurant, 5280 Taproom.

  Not that I was going to let a detail like that sway my opinion of him. He was still a complete bastard, and I was still very much handcuffed to his side. That was how he’d managed to be so successful; he started off really sweet and then BAM—interrogation out of nowh
ere.

  I wasn’t going to let my guard down just because a fictional detective had gotten me dinner. I was being held against my will and—buffalo wings?

  Goddammit, he was backing me into a corner here. Those wings were my kryptonite. I would’ve offered to carry drugs in my hoo-ha for Eddie if it involved 5280’s famous wings.

  No.

  I would’ve offered to wipe the slate with the last Detective Hopkins novel if it meant more wings. He was bringing out the big guns early.

  I was in huge trouble here.

  He had to go. Right after I finished eating, he was gone.

  Mmm hmm…

  Five

  I swear I tried.

  I was going to boycott eating as a way of regaining control of the situation. I really was.

  “You gonna make it over there?”

  I stripped the rest of the meat from the buffalo wing with my teeth before moaning orgasmically around it. “Ohmygod, sooooooo good.”

  Jake’s expression was pinched. “Yeah, you have a little something just there… and there… pretty much all over your face.” He gestured with the hand that was still cuffed to mine, forcing my hand toward my face with each move.

  Instead of searching for the nearest napkin, I rested my forehead against the tabletop and soundlessly shook with laughter.

  I’d been on hundreds of dates in my quest to find ‘the one,’ and I typically spent most of it obsessing over the menu. I passed over my favorite dishes in favor of something that wouldn’t make a mess. I also never ate enough to fill me up.

  I had just done both with the most attractive man I’d ever met and had no regrets. It was exhilarating. Granted, we weren’t on a date, so it didn’t really count.

  But, damn did it feel nice to just not care.

  Jake seemed to be ignoring my mini break with reality. I turned my head and found him watching me curiously. “You doing okay, Hayden?”

  The urge to giggle faded and I nodded, suddenly serious again. The moment was gone, and I was left with a sauce-covered face and a longing for a bubble bath to collect my thoughts.