A Captive Situation (Kings of New York)

Seven miles, my ass.

Jake had been lying. There was no way we were surrounded by seven miles of forest. At first I thought I had this in the bag. I’ve done half marathons before.

Seven miles? Pfft. Not a problem.

I started hotfooting it. I’d been going a good while before I heard a shout from behind me.

My heart sank as some fear stung me. He finally checked the bathroom and realized a window had been left open, just an inch but it was enough.

Dumbass.

Everything alarmed, my ass.

I went faster, but it was still dark out and the moon only penetrated certain areas of the woods. It was dense so I couldn’t run at my full speed, not unless I was willing to risk a rolled or broken ankle. Or some other injury.

It felt like I’d been running for an hour. My breathing was choppy. It had been a few years since my last half marathon, when I really thought about it. My heart was spiking. Where was the road? I heard a road. I knew I did. It didn’t sound seven miles away, but the farther I went, I was starting to doubt myself.

Had I misheard?

Had I gone in the wrong direction? Was I—I didn’t even know. I had no idea where I was. I could be going into a national park, for all I knew.

Dammit.

I stopped, panting, and immediately bent down to rest my hands on my knees.

My heart was trying to burst its way out of my chest, but I needed to think.

Think. Be rational. Come up with a plan.

I had no plan. Running was my plan, and the only thing I did before seeing if I could get out the window was go to the bathroom.

I was shivering now. That’s what happens when you’re running during the early-morning hours when it’s still chilly. If I made it out of this, I’d probably get pneumonia.

I didn’t want to think what Aunt Clara would have to say to that. Or Bess. My mom would just shake her head. She never understood why I ran in the first place. My mom was a bit old-school.

“Are you done?”

I screamed, whirling around.

Jake materialized from behind a tree, and that asshole, he looked smug and all warm and comfortable. Maybe a bit irate, as his smirk transitioned to a glare. Ooh. His eyes flashed at me. He was angry, real angry. He snarled, and I noticed he had stopped to formulate a plan before he went after me. He was dressed all in black. Black coat. Black pants. Black shoes. He was even wearing black gloves, and in one hand was a handgun.

I swallowed. Why did that gun look so much scarier than it had before?

I eased back a step. “I had to try.”

“No!” He stalked toward me. “You didn’t.”

Oh. Oh no! He did not just yell at me.

My chest puffed up. I was about to yell back, except—I turned and fled. It was more a reflex because he was hella scary as he was coming for me, but before I could take more than a couple steps, he was on me.

“I don’t think so, princess.”

“No!” I yelled, battering at him. “And don’t call me that.”

“I’ll call you whatever the fuck I want,” he growled, cutting himself off as he swiftly wrapped something around me and lifted me up. I tried kicking at him, but he maneuvered me around so my feet could move, but they couldn’t hit anything.

Jesus. Fuck. I hadn’t even noticed him carrying anything.

I began wriggling around, turned upside-down and facing away from him.

I had no idea how he was doing this. “Agh! No fair.”

“What part of being kidnapped do you think is supposed to be fair? Stop fucking fighting.”

“No!” I flailed with more oomph, but to no avail. I was hitting air. I didn’t even know where his head was at this point. “Put me down! I’m going to vomit. I just ran three miles.” I was guessing.

“Whose fault was that? I told you not to run. Told you it was seven miles. And you ran a little over a mile.”

I groaned. “Way to rub it in.”

He snorted, starting a trek through the woods. He wrapped his arm tighter around my legs, and that’s when I realized he had me around his back, like I was some sort of toddler. What—it was kinda genius, and comfortable, but I couldn’t move.

“I don’t like you.”

“I don’t give a fuck.”

I opened my mouth to argue.

He said, before I could get one word out, “I took you for your safety. I didn’t kidnap you for sick pleasure.”

“Yeah, right.” I snorted. “I’m sure that’s what every kidnapper says to themselves when they’re doing the kidnapping. It’s called trying to justify your habit.”

He tensed underneath me, turning to cement. A low rumble started from low in his chest. “I’m not justifying shit. It’s the truth.”

“Whatever you need to tell yourself so you can keep that pep in your step. You told me yourself that you’re not a good guy. Now I’m supposed to believe you? Yeah. Sure. You were tying me up for my own good.”

His sarcasm was just as strong. “And look at you, proving me wrong right now. Way to go. You’re being super logical.”

“If I could bite your ass, I would.”

A smothered laugh vibrated against my back. “Why do you think I have you turned that way?”

“I feel like an idiot. You put me in some sort of adult-sized swaddler, backward. Where did you get this? Are there stores for kidnappers? Kidnappers-R-Us?”

A smothered laugh reverberated behind me. He coughed over it. “Just quit bitching until you hear what I have to say. I’ll explain everything.”

I went still, not that I was moving much. It was completely useless. But the little struggling I was still trying, for my own mental sake, I halted. “You promise? Everything?”

“Yes.” He cleared the trees, and I saw there was a small road that he’d used, where some kind of cart was parked. Instead of untying me and letting me sit on the seat, he climbed up, sat sideways, and pulled his phone out of his pocket.

He retucked me, pulling me tighter around him so I couldn’t move an inch.

I wanted to protest, but . . . I felt kinda snug. Though, hanging down was annoying. I growled until the cart started up. That distracted me because holy shit, it was silent. Like, stealth silent and with no lights. He drove us back like that from his phone.

I was so frustrated.

I had no fighting chance against him. Not when he had toys like this.

“What kind of cop has access to tech like that? Aren’t you guys supposed to be poor?”

“Were you not paying attention when my cousin was bitching? Money is not an issue for my family. Any of us.”

He sighed. I felt it more than heard it, and after that, I got quiet, feeling just how seriously strong he was. There was no softness on his body. He was pure muscle. Feeling him, remembering that glimpse I got of him earlier when he’d changed clothes and a small section of his very flat stomach showed, I gulped, feeling itchy.

“Stop squirming. Just wait to hear me out. You know I was forced to take you.”

“Our definitions of force vary. What dictionary are you using? The criminal one?”

A slight snort sounded from him. “We’re almost back.”

Oh joy. Almost back to where he’d put me on a chair, tie me to it. It didn’t matter if it was reclined or not, I’d be tied down.

I didn’t think so. “Promise you won’t tie me up.” I tried to look at him, but the most I could see was the back of his shoulder.

He went still, his head turning toward me. “Promise you’ll hear me out.”

I let out a long, frustrated breath of air, but said, “Fine.”

“Fine,” he clipped out, just as annoyed.

We kept going in the complete dark. “How are you driving this thing? There’s no lights.”

He didn’t reply, only saying, “We’re almost back. I’ll make you food too.”

And with that, my stomach let loose a growl that could’ve scared off a grizzly bear. Normally I’d be mortified, but we were past that with the whole two dead guys and him kidnapping me. Plus, I’d peed in front of him.

When he pulled up to the house, he stowed the cart in a building, plugging it in. He kept me on his back. How strong was this guy? Seriously? I was a good hundred and forty pounds. I wasn’t some lightweight woman, but he was walking around as if I were a backpack that he was too lazy to drop.

I was getting a little sick from the different motions and all the ups and downs before he stepped out and hit another button on his phone. A big door closed, coming from the top like it was a garage door.

As we crossed to the house, I took in the scenery this time. I hadn’t been able to before.

He was right. We were surrounded by trees. Trees and trees and trees. A knot formed, thinking how stupid it had been of me to try, but I had to. That was lesson one of being kidnapped. You get a chance, you run.

We’d come up a smaller trail, but there was a driveway jutting out to my left side.

Which would be my right side if I was normal, and not upside-down.

Wait . . . Did I have that wrong?

I was frustrated all over again because this was so confusing.

He was at the back door, putting in a code. The locks were unlocking, and as he stepped inside, he moved around so my head didn’t hit the doorframe (so considerate of him) before he punched in another set of codes. The door shut, and he did a whole set of codes after that.

The guy hadn’t lied about that security. Fuck. He was either really into security or paranoid. Though, the contract out on his life was giving him some credibility. If I believed him. I still wasn’t sure about that. I watched Nightline. Kidnappers brainwashed their kidnappees.

He didn’t turn on the lights, going through the kitchen and moving into the bedroom where he turned with his back to the bed. I heard a swish and I was airborne. “Oooh!” I fell to the bed with a bounce. That was a little jarring. I glared, sitting up. “You could’ve warned me.”

He didn’t spare me a look, moving around the room.

There were two of them. They were going in circles.

Now three.

Was I hearing birds?

I lay back down, cursing because I knew better.

He laughed, not trying to hide it. “I could’ve told you not to sit up. All the blood’s at your head.”

I rolled so I could watch him, and as he paused at the window, I called his name. “Jake.”

He looked.

I held out my middle finger, making a point to turn it around so it was upright. “Fuck you.”

He stared at me for another moment, taking me in. There was no glare back, or curse, or even annoyance. His jaw just tightened before he moved to the last window. “This room is secure.”

I smirked. “Did you check the bathroom?”

His jaw clenched. “Already done. That won’t happen again.”

It was dumb of me, but I couldn’t help myself. I needed to taunt him. I was helpless so I wanted him to feel an eighth of what I was experiencing, even if it was foolish of me. There was something in me needing a reaction out of him. Any sort of reaction.

My tone was mocking. “I thought the whole place was on lockdown. You’re like some security guru or something?”

“Just double-checking, now knowing your proclivities for not believing me.”

I laughed, giving up on watching him, and closed my eyes because the ceiling was still circling. “I hate you.”

“You’re not some treat either, princess.”

“Shut up with that name or I’ll start calling you names too.”

He grunted, opening a door and flicking on a light. “You already have.”

“I have?” I lifted my head, seeing him standing upside-down in what looked like a doorway to a bathroom. I moaned because there were still two of him. At least the third had gone away. Small blessings. Just the one was enough of an annoyance to me.

“Psychopath? Asshole?”

I muttered under my breath, “Well, you are.”

“Lunatic,” he shot back.

I winced, raising my hands to start rubbing at my temples. “I think you’ve cured me of my slight break in my mental health. Funnily enough, if my best friend called me up, I’d answer.”

He stopped in his tracks. “That’s who he left you for? Your best friend?” His voice went low.

Oh. I hadn’t gotten to that part. A knot formed in my throat, but I swallowed it down, not sure why it was there anymore. “Not that it’s any of your business, but yes.”

“How long was she your best friend?”

I grimaced. “Again, not that it’s any of your business, but I met her in college. She was my freshman roommate and then we rushed the same sorority together.”noveldrama

“Since college?”

My throat was suddenly dry, so very dry. I said a little quieter, “Yeah. Since college.”

“You called her your best friend.”

That knot was back, and this time it was a little harder to shove it down. “Ex–best friend. Slip of the tongue.”

He was quiet again for a moment before walking away. “When you can stand, help yourself to a shower. There’s clothes in the closet. Find whatever that’ll fit. Come out when you’re done. I’ll get started on the food.”

I yelled as he left, “Are you going to be cooking up an explanation too?”

He shut the door, and said from the other side, his voice muffled, “Wash up. You stink.”

“Here’s another name for you.” I made a face. “Dick.”