He swings back to me cupping his chin, rubbing a long finger over his mouth.
“Come with me.” Following as he stalks out of the room, my hands clench into fists with frustration. Every other night, he lets me go.
We pass what was my room. I say was because the doors stand open and I notice as I pass that the room is empty of the meager belongings a servant issued me when I first dropped unceremoniously on the teak floor.
He walks down the long hallway, moving past door after door, and I know we are leaving the guest wing, which houses my room and other guest quarters.
When he finally stops, it’s in front of a door that has a retina scan. He leans in and there is a snick. The doors slide open with a whisper, and he nods for me to enter.
Walking past him, I take in the expanse of the grand primary suite. The bed is on a platform that is not as low as a traditional Japanese bed, nor is it as tall as a western one. Everything is monochromatic black and muted sage. Like all the other rooms, it faces a garden. Only this one is Zen. The neat rows of lines swirl in intricate and simple patterns. I wonder briefly if he tends it himself.
“It calms me.” He says to me at my unasked question.
“It’s beautiful.” I murmur, wondering what all this means.
“I thought your training would start tonight.” He says this so matter-of - factly, like I’d be totally be cool with having sex with the man who kidnapped me and stole me from my life. Never mind that it’s my first time. I’ll pass, thank you very much.
I peep a vase along the side of the bed. My mind is racing faster than one of those mechanical rabbits at a greyhound race.
“Would you like a drink before we begin?” He quirks a brow, waiting for my acquiescence.
“Ahem — sure.” I stammer watching his big frame turn to make us drinks. I don’t know what comes over me other than the adrenaline pulsing through my veins. Grabbing the vase that’s much heavier than it looks and on feet quicker than I’veever moved before, I rush behind him, smashing it over his head.
Slowly his body slides to the floor. The whisky spills, and the glass falls on top of his still body.
“Ohmygoodness.” Clutching my heaving chest, I stumble back. Did I kill him? Tiptoeing trying to be careful of the glass shards littering his body and the floor, I press two fingers to his neck. I sigh when the steady beat pulses against my fingers.
Standing, I move to the entrance of the room. Looking left and right, I make sure no one is coming. I don’t know the path from this side of the house. I have to make it back to the guests’ wing side so I can leave from the room assigned to me.
I don’t think my breathing gets back to a normal rhythm until I sneak out the door of my suite leading to the garden.
On quiet but swift feet, I race across the garden.
“Bridget.” Turning, I see Takashi lean against the door, a thin streak of blood trailing from his hairline.
My heart stops, but my feet keep backpedaling.
“Run, little one, run. If you make it to your little stash, I’ll let you go.” I don’t wait I turn and start running through the labyrinthine garden, but I don’t miss when he calls after me. “When I catch you you’re mine.”
I knowhe’s toying with me. Sweat slicks my body. I thought I caught a glimpse of him a couple of times, then quickly changed directions, which only ended up making me take a detour that took me away from the bag I had stashed in the limbs of a pine that are low enough for me to reach.
I had the bag hidden neatly enough. Did he see it or have his people watching me? Or was he just guessing?
Nearing the tree that’s surrounded by ornamental grasses on one side and moss at the base, I feel a sense of relief.
When I reach the trunk, I tug the satchel down. Elation fills me. I got it. Before the thought can fully form, it’s ripped from my hand.
I don’t even think before I plant a foot in his stomach. He bends just enough for me to get a good solid punch in. Pivoting, I take out back into the woods.
Behind me a hear a rough chuckle. I’m running so fast and hard I’m kicking up the moss and soil that covers the landscape.
I run deep into the woods, but I can almost hear him on my tail. Looking back, I can see him. He flashes a smile before darting parallel to me in an attempt to cut me off. Turning to run in the opposite direction I was going, I switch back to the only exit I know.
A stitch forms in my side. My body is hot and cold at the same time. My breath squeezes hard in my chest. The thumping has become an overwhelming crescendo; I can’t discern the cadence. Exhaustion is a beast gnawing at every pull of my muscles.
Pushing all that aside, I rush past the tree, not even bothering to grab the sack. The wall is just a few feet away. So close. I stumble — hard. My arms pinwheel, but in that split second, I know I’m about to eat dirt.
Another heavier mass slams into me, wrapping my body in a protective shell.
