Alec…
Waking up reeking of cheap scotch and a mouth that tasted like a badger had crawled in there to die was becoming too familiar.
However, waking up in the aforementioned condition and also tied to a shabby little cot was new.
“Where the fuck am I?”
It was a cellar, though I’m not sure it deserved to be called that. The stone walls were weeping moisture and covered with little patches of moss. Two tiny windows let in the weak sunlight and several wooden boxes were stacked in every corner. Aside from this pitiful excuse for a bed, there was only a desk and chair pushed against the opposite wall.
I looked down to see my feet hanging off the thin mattress, one was chained from a shackle on my ankle to an iron bolt on the stone floor. The opposite wrist was chained similarly to another loop hammered into the wall above the cot. The hardware was shiny and looked newly installed.
With a groan, I found that not only had that damned witch taken my gun, but also my knife, my phone, and my watch. That last realization made me roar with fury, yanking at the chain around my wrist.
A beam of light shot across the far wall as the door at the top ofthe stairs opened.
“Calm yer knickers!”
An old man came stomping down the wooden stairs. He was tall, with a shock of greying hair, dressed in an old plaid shirt, trousers, and battered work boots.
And a Halloween mask.
“Kickin’ up such a fuss! This cudden be your first abduction. Yer too big an arsehole to not have had a bag thrown over yer head at some point.”
He stomped over to me, looking as cross as his Frankenstein mask would allow.
“You look ridiculous in that mask,” I drawled.
“Eh, I’m doin’ you a favor. I got a face like a well-chewed chop.” He pulled over the chair, seating himself and eyeing me curiously. “Ya had a nice nap, Sleeping Beauty?”
“Best sleep in years. Where’s Margaret?”
“Who?”
I rubbed my forehead. “The attractive Jezebel who slipped me a roofie and robbed me blind. You can keep the gun, but I want my watch back.”
He didn’t seem offended, chuckling at my description of Margaret. “She’s a sly thing, isn’t she, then?”
“Delightful. So, what’s the plan here, old man?” Now that I was fully awake, my bladder and heaving stomach were making themselves known.
“I’m keepin’ ya down here for a wee bit.Margaret’sdeciding what to do with ya.” He settled back in the chair, crossing his arms. He had that permanent reddish sunburn the fair-skinned get when they work outside all day. I’d bet my new Lamborghini that he was a farmer. His accent was strong, so it seemedlikely that the sneaky little witch managed to cart my unconscious ass over to Ireland.
“I’m going to need a bathroom very shortly, unless you’re interested in cleaning up an impressive amount of vomit,” I sighed.
His eyes rolled in that Frankenstein mask, but he stood and pulled open a shabby folding screen to reveal a toilet and tiny sink. “Right here, yer majesty. Try to keep it in the bowl. Your shackles are just long enough to reach.” He stomped back up the stairs, slamming the door behind him. I heard the distinct click of a bolt being thrown shut.
The combination of cheap bourbon, even cheaper scotch, and whatever horrendous knockout drug she’d used on me was sending the contents surging up my throat and I barely made it to that vile little toilet in time.
The vomiting? This, I was used to.
Splashing cold water onto my face from the sink, I tried to focus. I was used to facing any challenge and coming up with a plan within moments. Given a little time, I could get out of these shackles on my ankle and wrist. Frankenstein Mask was a tough old bird, I could tell. I could still easily knock him unconscious.
The real question was, why was he looking after me instead of sweet, treacherous Margaret? I remembered her sly smile when she’d whispered in my ear back at the pub and even with this blistering hangover, my unruly cock stiffened. If the woman had had any common decency, we’d have gone a round or two in bed before she roofied me.
I recalled the smooth slopes of her breasts in that loose shirt last night and groaned. I’d planned on taking those nipples in my mouth and sucking them raw while I fucked her.
Strange, that. I was more offended about not seeing her naked than I was being kidnapped. What the fuck was wrong with me?More importantly, what were these two planning to do? I had a feeling they weren’t quite sure, either, though I’m assuming requesting a ransom for my safe return was part of it.
With a groan, I pushed my wet hair back from my face and paced the few steps the chains allowed me.
