He was a true monster.
Shuddering, I carefully lowered my legs to the floor, taking a few seconds before daring to try to rise to my feet. A window was right in front of me, the blinds partially opened allowing me to see nothing but trees, including a magnolia tree. That could mean I hadn’t been taken from the city.
That was at least comforting.
I knew better, but I prayed whoever had taken me had brought my purse and my phone. I was all alone with no way of getting help. Indy. Had I left enough water? He hated to make messes in the house. He’d hold it as long as he could.
Sin was a motherfucking asshole for doing this.
When I tried to stand, I almost fell back on the bed. I was weak, the air from the ceiling fan above creating an intense chill. Noticing a water bottle, I realized just how thirsty I was. As soon as I reached for it, I slumped against the bed. Had I been drugged? How long had I been out?
With my hand shaking, I shut down my thoughts and concentrated on cracking the water bottle. My lips and throat were parched. A few seconds later, I felt strong enough to try standing again.
Wherever I’d been taken, the furniture was gorgeous, every detail straight out of a posh magazine. Modern with a beachy flair, there was a meticulousness about it, as if everything was required to have its place.
Just like Sinclair.
A cold shiver remained as I inched away from the bed, taking careful steps toward the door, my entire arm shaking as I tried the handle. Locked. I wanted to pound on the thick wood,demanding my release, but I knew it wouldn’t do any good. I pressed my ear to the door, straining to listen.
I couldn’t get his face out of my mind; the way he’d gazed at me with a burning look of hunger or the moment when the attacker had grabbed me around the neck. It was as if Sinclair owned me and wouldn’t dare let another man place a hand on his possession. I’d felt that way the moment he’d locked eyes with mine from across the street.
Or maybe that had been wishful thinking. This was something else entirely.
Jesus, I could still feel his hand on my face. Was that even possible?
What if he hadn’t saved me? Whoa. Everything was wrong with the way I was thinking. As I stepped back, my legs shaking, I bit my lower lip to keep from moaning. Why was I here?
My thoughts drifted to Indiana once again. At least thinking about him grounded me.
There was light outside. Late morning light. No… I’d slept through the night. My baby. Oh, my God. He was all alone. Panic tore through me and I tried the door again, this time banging on it. “Let me out. You can’t keep me.”
But with someone like Sinclair Prince, he could do anything he wanted and from what I’d read, no one would dare try to stop him.
Including the police.
I was trapped.
I was his prisoner.
He could do anything he wanted with me. I had to get out of here. I returned to the window, flicking the lock, thankful the window opened easily. As the fresh, humid air hit me, I was surprised at the incredible floral fragrances floating through the air. It was as if the house was positioned in a place of paradise.
Yet not for me.
My fingers clawed at the screen, finally managing to pop it loose, but the metal and mesh slipped from my fingers, floating to the ground below. With one darted look out the window, I realized I was on the third floor with nothing to help me climb down or break my fall. At minimum, I would likely break a leg or an ankle. Jumping wouldn’t work.
My body aching, I moved through the room, searching for anything I could use to try to pry open the door. There was nothing, as if the room had been wiped clean of anything I could possibly use as a weapon or something heavy enough to drive through the thick wooden door. The only things in the room other than the pillows and the sheets on the bed were two pictures hanging on the walls.
One of a wild-looking woman in a bright red dress.
Another of a gothic mythological creature.
While the man had taste in almost everything, that didn’t include art. They were horrific. For some reason, concentrating on how ugly they were made me laugh.
After several minutes of searching, I became exasperated. Just before slumping down on the bed to catch my breath, I heard footsteps.
Another more defining wave of fear tore through me. Given my past, my instincts had been honed, my body trained not only to react as necessary to danger but also to fight back. I grabbed the only thing I could use to defend myself.
I ripped a picture off the wall, moving behind the door.
