I knew he had been too good to be true. No one that hot would be into a guy like me.
And what the hell made me so special that I got to choose whether to live or die?
I was going insane. That had to be it. It was all a trick my mind played on me. None of it was real. Maybe Grym wasn’t even real.
Whether fake or not, I was pissed at him.
Maybe he lived in a nice house in the expensive part of town because he was in the fucking mob. Oh, my fucking god. That had to be it. Organized crime used to be a thing about seventy years ago in my hometown because we were right across the lake from Chicago. The mob bosses used to own vacation homes. There was even a rumor of an underground tunnel leading from one of the crime boss’s lake houses to the lake. Supposedly, it was his escape route. I’d never seen it, but the story still circulates around town now and then.
Grym obviously wasn’t his real name. It was an alias so he could stay under the radar.
He probably thought I was an easy target for human trafficking. I chuckled, then narrowed my eyes again. He might sell me to the highest bidder or whatever, but I’d make his life so miserable he’d regret the day he met me right up until he handed me over to the buyer. After that, I’d make the buyer pay. Then they’d demand a refund, and I’d double down on wreaking havoc.
I gave the neighborhood and the driveway one more scan. There weren’t any more cars in the driveway than there had been when I delivered his pizza, which seemed odd given that he had one of his minions come and get me.
I left the window open, then began searching the room. I didn’t know what I was searching for. Anything to aid my escape would be great.
I would have set the house on fire, except I was still in it and there wasn’t a fire in the fireplace. But there was a poker. That made a great weapon.
I grabbed it and opened the door on my right. It was a closet. I could tie the clothing together and climb out the window.
While I liked the plan, I regretted not being able to make Grym pay first.
The sheets and the blankets worked better for that sort of thing. It was a big enough bed. I could just use a sheet to get down, but only if I could tie the knot tight enough. I’d have to try it. The last thing I needed was to break something on the way down. Dying again meant I’d have to face Grym in that dark place again. No, thanks. It hadn’t been very spooky, but I still hated the dark.
I set the poker by the window and pulled the blanket off the bed, throwing it onto the floor, then pulled the top sheet off as well.
I just needed something sturdy to tie it to. The most obvious choice was the bed. It was far enough from the window that I’d have to tie sheets together. It would be a lot of knots, and I’d have to rely on them to hold my weight. The dresser was also pretty far away, and it wouldn’t be as sturdy as the bed.
Maybe I needed another plan, but I didn’t have a better one available.
Just as I was pulling the fitted sheet off the bed, the door handle clicked as if someone were fiddling with it.
I stiffened and picked up the poker, holding it out before me.
I heard someone curse, then a deep voice said, “Cael, you asshole. Locking up my beloved like he’s a criminal. Fucking prick.”
“It’s for his safety.”
“He’s not a prisoner.”
“The Bureau will catch up with him soon. All the brothers are here, ready to protect him.” Protect me from what? And who were the brothers? Mob associates, probably.
And then the door opened, and Grymley stood there. He wore jeans and a T-shirt. Sexy fucker. I wanted to run him through with the poker and bloody his perfect, chiseled chest.
“Whoa,” he said, holding up his hands as if surrendering. “It’s just me, honey. Just me.” He stretched the last two words as if speaking to a spooked horse.
“Let me go, and I won’t call the cops.” I was totally going to call the police as soon as I had access to a phone, but Grym didn’t need to know that.
Grym stepped toward me, so I gripped the poker, wielding it like a sword. “It’s okay. You’re safe. I’d never do anything to hurt you.”
“Except kidnap me.” What an asshole thing for him to do. I would have nightmares for the rest of my life, even if he let me go and did nothing else.
“That was an accident.” He still spoke as if he were taming a wild mustang. It was annoying and a little scary. What if he really thought of me as less than human? What would that mean for me?
“How do you accidentally kidnap someone?”
“Good question,” Grym mumbled under his breath. “It all starts with having a best friend who’s gone mental.” He said it aloud, pointing to his head.
