I beat him.
Once some form of eternity has passed, Brody backs away from me, slowly removing himself from my personal space. I’m cold everywhere he touched me, though my body’s covered in a sheen of sweat.
He throws his hand at the wall, clicking on one of several light switches.
After being in such heady darkness with him, the sudden brightness is blinding.
In the warm light, we can both see exactly how intensely and how much he came all over both of us.
Judging by the volume alone, this might have been the first orgasm he’s had this decade.
Though I can’t really judge. I’m still riding the wave of his caresses.
This dangerous, terrible man had me in the palm of his hand.
How did things between us becomethis?
The reality of our situation crashes into me. The clarity. The regret.
I just went to third base with my kidnapper.
Embarrassment curdles in my stomach like sour milk.
My undeniable enjoyment breeds more shame.
Hoping to avoid Brody’s irritatingly perceptive gaze, I glimpse away.
To the window.
Right where he was sitting before he crawled into bed with me.
His phone sits unattended on the windowsill.
Holy shit.
Brody strips out of his shirt. Without so much as a word to me, he wanders into the closet to find fresh clothes.
I’m alone. Now’s my chance to seize the freedom suddenly within reach.
This is no time to think.
Only act.
I cross the room as quickly and quietly as I can and snatch up the device. It’s completely unlocked. Probably a burner.
Even better.
While Brody’s gone, I manage to send a text to Finn with shaking fingers.
I guess at my location, but hopefully he’ll still be able to hunt me down.
As soon as I’m done, I delete the message history.
Like nothing ever happened.
When Brody wanders out of the closet wearing a fresh t-shirt, I’m sitting on the edge of the bed, innocent as a lamb.
My chest tightens with anxiety, but Brody doesn’t even give me a second glance.
