“Wake up!” Jace. No, not Jace’s voice.
I fight the urge to vomit and blink my eyes open. I can’t quite make out the dark shadow in front of me. “What happened?” I take slow, deep breaths, focusing on the figure in front of me.
“That a girl. Time to wake up.”
“Where am I?” I squint, focusing on the tall blur standing over me. Maybe if I sit up, but when I try, my stomach wrenches. Whoa, bad idea. I wince, my head pounding like someone took a hammer to it.
“Open your eyes, bitch.” Definitely not Jace’s voice. The image in front of me is still unclear.
Everything is fuzzy. I remember spending the day at the zoo. We had so much fun. We went to eat—no—Kiely was cold and tired. Did I drink? No. Jace dropped me off at my place, and…wait.
“What the fuck.” My vision becomes apparent, and my body grows cold with dread. The memory of Mason standing over me in my bedroom, wearing a smarmy smile. The sharp pain in my neck.
“Time to play, sweetheart.”
“Mason,” I croak with raw panic in my voice. My hands struggle to get loose as I prepare to fight, but I’m getting nowhere. “What did you do?” My eyes dart around the room. I’m in house…no apartment. It’s small. The tattered walls painted a dingy gray. I’m lying on a low bed, more like a cot. My hands are bound together in front of me with duct tape. I move my legs, and they seem to be free. “I need to leave.”
“You’re not going anywhere.”
“I’m going to be sick.” Whatever is in my gut is begging to be expelled.
“That’s the medicine. Lie still.” He moves away and heads toward a tiny kitchen area. I search around for a way out as he rummages in a low cabinet. “Here’s a bucket. If you get sick on my bed, I’m going to be pissed.”
“Did you…kidnap me?”
“Ding! Ding! Always so bright.”
“Let me go.” Fear trickles down my spine.
My eyes dart left to right, searching for something to help me out of this mess. I need to remain calm. A tiny desk and chair sit near the bed. One window, and it’s all the way over by the front door. It’s too far away and I’ll never beat him to it, seeing how dizzy I am.
Jace will find me. Right? Jace will come for me. He has to. But no one knows you're here, Captain Obvious.
I squeeze my eyes shut, and Jace’s face appears so clearly. Beautiful Jace. I resist the urge to cry because it won’t help me right now. I need to get out of here.
“You need to let me go.” I take a deep breath, managing to push myself to a sitting potion. I prop my back against the wall next to the bed. I hug my knees, pulling my bound hands tight to my chest. I consider my self pretty strong, but every muscle I move is an effort. I’m not sure I can stand upright at this point, let alone walk.
“You’re not going anywhere.”
“Untie me.” My heart pounds in my chest, and I’m starting to realize I may not make it out of this situation. Bile rises in my throat. Must be someone around to hear me. At the top of my lungs, I let out a blood-curdling cry for help.
Bam! My head slams backward onto the mattress. Like a shot, searing pain ricochets to the right side of my face. The metallic taste of blood pooling in my mouth churns my stomach, and the radiating pain in my jaw takes my breath away.
“Why did you have to go and make me do that?” Mason lets out an exasperated sigh. “If you can’t behave, this is going to be over before it even gets fun. Now keep your fucking mouth shut.” Mason kicks the bottom of the frame, the bed rattles, making me shrink back into the corner.
“Jace is going to kill you.” I stare up at the ceiling fan, wishing it were off right now. It’s so cold in here, and it’s making me dizzier.
He bursts out a short cackle, making him sound twisted. “Jace doesn’t know where you are. Nobody does.”
“You’re fucking crazy.” Jace will find me.
“Aw…I walloped you pretty hard.” He runs two fingers over my sensitive cheek, I’m sure is turning different colors of purple.
“Fuck you,” I growl, just before I spit the blood-filled saliva pooling in my mouth at his face.
“No, fuck you, you little slut.” He grabs a handful of my hair. “The dumb bodyguard you’ve been fucking is not coming to save you.”
“What do you want?” I fight the urge to be sick. I have to stay calm if I want to get out of this.
When he moves a few feet to grab the worn wooden chair, I struggle to get my hands loose, but I’m too weak. I think about screaming for help again, but my words get stuck in my throat when I remember what happened the first time. The only thing to do is wait. Wait for an opportunity to strike, and pray he doesn’t kill me in the process.
Mason flips the chair around, placing it in front of the bed. He straddles it the opposite way, and that’s when I catch sight of the gun in his hand. Fuck. This is not going to end well.
Stall. I need to stall. I need to find something to use as a weapon. I have to take a chance because I’m pretty sure I’m dead anyway. “I have to pee.”
Mason lets out a long breath of annoyance. “I should have killed you at your place. I thought I’d have some fun with you first, but now you’re just being annoying.”
“Please, Mason. I’m going to wet your bed.”
“Fine,” he says with a sigh. “If you try anything stupid, I’m going to shoot you, so don’t be stupid. Understand?”
“Yeah.”
He grips under my arm and helps me up from the cot. I’m so woozy. I nearly tumble over when I stand, but Mason quickly loops his arm under mine to steady me. He walks me about ten feet to the bathroom, way too small for both of us to stand in. Mason reaches out, unbuttoning, and unzipping my shorts at the doorway. My skin crawls from his touch.
“I need my hands…unless you’re going to wipe my piss,” I spit out.
Mason lays the gun on the small vanity right next to the toilet. He reaches into the front pocket of his jeans and pulls out a small switchblade. “Don’t be stupid and try anything.” He opens the blade, and snatches my bound hands. Making one smooth slice down the tape, he frees me.
I lean against the wall, opening and closing my hands, trying to shake out the numbness. “Are you going to stand there and watch?” The freak will probably get off on it.
“I’m not leaving you alone. So piss or don’t, I don’t care.” He closes the blade and shoves it back in his pocket, before picking up the gun again.
“Fine.” I stagger a bit and quickly grasp the vanity, steadying myself. He points the weapon at my chest. “I’m dizzy.” I hold up my palm like it will block a bullet.
“Get on with it,” he growls.
I shimmy my shorts down my thighs a few inches bending over so he’s unable to get a good look. “At least turn your head…please.” I crouch down and sit on the dirty toilet. I really didn’t have to pee. I’m searching for any opportunity to get myself out of this, but my bladder decides differently. I quickly wipe and flush, glancing at Mason, who’s still staring at the ground. I observe the one small window I’d never fit through. Straightening and buttoning my shorts, I wonder if I could knock the gun from him and make a run for it.