Istare at the masked, bloody man, feeling like I’m going to pass out at any second. The guy is fucking huge! Well over six feet tall, and the black shirt he’s wearing is straining at all the damn muscle beneath it. There’s no way in hell I’m beating him in a fight, especially not with that vicious knife in his hand. Seth was no match for him. He’s most definitely dead at his feet, and although I hated the guy, seeing him with his throat slit gives me no pleasure.
There’s no one else in the house, no one who can help me, and when the man takes a step closer, I finally find my voice. I scream and dart behind the kitchen island, desperate to put something between us. He stays on the other side, eyeing me with a flat stare that scares the hell out of me. I know my chances of reasoning with this psycho are slim to none, but I try anyway.
“I’m not going to say anything, okay? I don’t know who you are or what you look like. Seth had a lot of enemies, so let’s just leave it at that. You leave, and I’ll wait twenty minutes to call the cops. I’ll tell them I was downstairs and didn’t see anything.”
The corner of his mouth turns up the tiniest bit like I’ve just said something very amusing. He ignores my very sound plan and takes another step towards me. I don’t wait to see what he has planned, I take off in the direction of the living room, not daring to look back to see how close he is. I turn the corner and bolt for the basement door. Yanking it open, I take a few precious seconds to shut it behind me and turn the lock on the doorknob. I expect rage when he tries to open it and finds it locked, but instead he gives a deep, lazy-sounding laugh like I’ve just made his fucking night.
When he rams his foot against the door, causing it to immediately buckle, I curse the flimsy fucking wood and race down the stairs. There isn’t a door to the outside down here, but there are a couple of windows and a shit ton of hiding places. Ignoring the loud banging from his foot hitting the door, I step on the back of a chair and open the window, pushing the screen out right as the door bangs open.
Fucking hell, that hadn’t taken long at all!
I try not to think about how strong the man is that’s hunting me and instead decide that there’s no way in hell I’m fitting my ass through this window before he walks down those stairs. I hear his heavy footsteps and silently run to my room, sliding under my bed and pulling the comforter down so it hangs over the side, hiding me from view. His footsteps stop at the bottom of the stairs while my brain kicks my ass with a list of way better hiding places I could’ve chosen. I’d been running on blind fear, though, and this was all I could think to do.
Peeking under the tiny bit of space between the blanket and floor, I watch his black boots slowly walk to the window, hoping like hell that for once in my life luck is on my side and the bastard takes the bait. I swear I hear the universe laugh when he turns and starts walking around the room. My bedroom door is open, giving me a clear view of him and after several minutes I start to think that maybe he won’t even come in here, but then I see the black boots standing in my doorway and that hope quickly dies.
Covering my mouth, I try like hell to breathe slowly and quietly, but it gets harder when those boots start getting closer. He stops right next to my bed, and I swear to god the motherfucker is toying with me. No words, no angry demands, just silence and a pair of black, steel-toed boots inches from my face. No wonder he was able to kick the door in so easily. They look like they could easily crush my skull, and what the fuck size does this giant wear anyway?
“As much fun as this has been, Kaylee, it’s time to come out now.”
I freeze at the sound of his deep, accented voice, and then his words hit me. Kaylee? He thinks I’m Kaylee! My first instinct is to laugh and try to reason with the boogeyman, aone day you’re going to laugh about this, but you’ve got the wrong girlkind of thing, and then we can share anaw shucksmoment. He’ll be on his way, and I’ll bury this memory down deep and pretend it never happened. But then I think about Seth. Seth wasn’t Kaylee and look where it got him. My guess is he’s going to kill anyone who’s not her. I think about my mom and know that I’ll do anything to keep my ass alive for her. She can’t handle cancer and a dead daughter. I can’t do that to her.
“I’m waiting,” he says, cutting into my nervous breakdown. “I will pull you out if I have to.”
I know it’ll go better if I climb out on my own, but I can’t seem to move. I’m actually experiencing that frozen in terror moment that I’ve seen in movies and always kind of thought was fake. It’s not. It’s very, very real. When his feet disappear from view, I feel a quick jolt of hope, but it’s gone just as quickly when I feel his large hand wrap around one of my ankles before I’m yanked out from under the bed. I shut my eyes like a child who’s convinced that if they don’t see the monster, then it really isn’t there, but they pop open when he scoops me up like I weigh nothing. When I flail against him, he pins me against the wall, sliding his muscled thigh between my legs, holding me in place in an embarrassing position that keeps my pussy flush against his leg while my toes barely scrape the ground and one of his hands pins my wrists against the wall above me. I’m completely at his mercy.
I’ve always known I’m not the bravest person around. I know my tolerance for horror movies is zilch and that I still sleep with a light on even though I’m a grown-ass woman, but secretly, way, way deep down, I always pictured my inner badass coming out in a moment like this, but instead of rearing up and saving my own butt in a kick-ass display of feminine strength, I’m embarrassed to say that a little bit of pee comes out before I can stop it.
My eyes jump to his before I can think better of it. They’re almond-shaped and a deep caramel color, like an expensive whiskey, and in any other situation, I’d say they were damn beautiful. Right now they’re widened in surprise as my urine slowly soaks through his jeans. Mortified, my face heats up, even though it’s his own damn fault that I’m so scared I pissed myself.
“I’m sorry,” I quickly whisper because I’d rather he not get too angry.
I struggle against the tight grip he has on my wrists, but it’s obvious I’m not going anywhere. Without a word, he uses his other hand to dig something out of the black bag he has slung across his chest. When I see the rope, I hope he appreciates how hard I’m clenching to keep from peeing on him again. The knife is now in a sheath at his side, and I try to reassure myself that at least it’s not out, which means he’s not planning on killing me yet.
He lowers his leg so my feet touch ground again before bringing my hands down. My eyes run over his inked hands, wondering who the hell this guy is. I watch as he ties an intricate knot, securing both my wrists in a hold that I’ll never be able to get out of. It doesn’t stop me from trying, though. The corner of his mouth lifts up again at my failed efforts.
Curiosity gets the better of me, and I ask, “How did you know I was under the bed?”
He meets my eyes, and I think he’s going to ignore me, but he finally says, “I could hear you breathing.”
I mentally kick my own ass for that one. I’d tried to steady my breathing, but when I get scared, I feel like I can’t breathe, so I was probably sucking air like a near-drowning victim. I might as well have drawn him a damn map to my hiding place.
“I should’ve gone out the window,” I mutter to myself.
“I would’ve still gotten you,kiska.”
His tone is annoyingly confident, and I bite back the smartass comment I want to say, and ask instead, “Can’t you just let me go? I swear I won’t say anything. Why do you even want me?”
“No more questions.” He pulls out a roll of duct tape and rips off a piece.
“No, wait, don’t. I won’t scream,” I say in a quick rush, but he ignores me and slaps the duct tape over my lips, silencing my words. I glare at him, but he ignores that too, packing his kidnapping kit back up and then grabbing the rope at my wrists, pulling me along after him. We go back up the stairs, my eyes widening in surprise when I see what’s left of the door he literally broke in fucking two, and then follow him to the French doors that lead out to the veranda.
Before he steps out, he pulls the ski mask off, and I suck in a quick breath through my nose when I get my first look at my kidnapper. I want to hate him. I want to find him as repulsive as Scott and his sleazy friends, but the truth is the man is gorgeous. The fact that he has me tied up with duct tape over my mouth doesn’t change the fact that he’s the most beautiful man I’ve ever seen. I study his profile while he scans the backyard, making sure no one has come home or called the cops. His chiseled jaw is covered in dark stubble, and when he turns back to face me, I try not to let it show that I think he’s attractive. I look away from his whiskey-colored eyes, refusing to fall under his spell.
Leading me forward, he pulls me around the side of the house, slowing when he realizes that I’m having to speed walk to keep up with him. When we turn the corner, he pauses for a second, scanning the neighborhood before quickly leading me to an old Camaro that’s in pristine condition. It’s a vibrant cherry red with two white racing strips going down the hood. It doesn’t surprise me at all that this sexy car belongs to this man. A guy like him doesn’t drive rusted-out Ford Escorts. No, that’s just for the likes of me. I glance over at my car, feeling a stab of guilt at my traitorous thoughts. She may not be much to look at, but she’s never broken down and left me stranded on the side of the road.
I let out the breath I hadn’t realized I’d been holding when he opens the passenger side door for me. Grateful that he’s not putting me in the trunk, I step closer before he changes his mind. Grabbing a sweatshirt from the back, he makes a point of spreading it out on the seat. I’m guessing he doesn’t want piss-soaked jeans touching his precious leather interior. He helps me get in and then leans over so he can buckle me in. I hate that he smells so damn good, and out of pure spite, I hold my breath until he backs away. His scent is still invading my space when I take a breath. It’s a mix of some spicy cologne that smells way too good to be cheap, and unless I’m really losing my mind, which is entirely possible, I catch a whiff of grilled steak. God, could this man get any more alpha?
He shuts the door and walks around the hood before getting in the driver’s seat, stretching his long legs out in front of him. He looks like he was made for this damn car. The purr of the engine fills the quiet neighborhood, and without giving it any real thought, I press my roped hands against the window and bang on it, hoping one of the neighbors are looking outside at this exact moment.
