Claimed

She crawled to the pile of clothing he’d left in a heap on the floor, feeling frantically for his cell phone. It wasn’t there.

Fuck.

She looked desperately around the bedroom, but there was no evidence of a landline. Where the hell was his cell? It wasn’t on the bureau either. Not ready to give up, not by a long shot, she grabbed James’ T-shirt and pulled it over her head. She continued her stealthy crawl, forcing herself to ignore the rising pain in her calf as she dragged that leg along. He’d left the bedroom door open a few inches. Kelsey reached for it, pushing it gently and then freezing as the hinges creaked, the sound squealing through the room like a wounded animal.

She whipped her head back toward the bed. James hadn’t moved. Her heart was galloping in her chest.

Just get out the door.

The bedroom exited onto a short hallway. There was another room just across from it but Kelsey turned left, heading into the living room, thanking whatever gods there might be that James lived in a one-story house.

She pulled herself upright on the sofa and scanned the room, searching for a phone. No luck. She thought about how he’d brought her in through the kitchen. Maybe he put his phone and wallet down there when he’d come in earlier, or maybe, if he did have a landline, it was there.

Adrenaline and fear pushed her along as she hobbled and hopped toward the kitchen. She swept the room with her eyes. No phone. No wallet. No landline.

“Fuck,” she whispered.

Just get out. Get out!

It had been dark, and she’d been in a state of hysterical panic by the time he’d pulled into the garage the night before. She hadn’t noticed what kind of neighborhood he lived in, or if there were likely to be people outside. All she needed was to be seen. She would scream for help. She would be rescued, and this horrible nightmare would be at an end.

She weighed her options. Did she head back through the living room to the front door, or go out the kitchen door, which presumably led to James’ backyard? That door was much closer, and she decided to go that way. Supporting herself along the counters, she made it to the back door. She turned the deadbolt and opened the door.

The warmth of the summer day hit her with a blast of humidity, bringing with it the promise of freedom. Flinging the door wide, she hobbled outside, putting as little weight as she could on her bad leg as she hopped and limped down the three steps to the grass.

She glanced quickly around and cursed. The small backyard was walled in by a high wooden fence. She couldn’t see into the neighbors’ yards and they couldn’t see her.

But they could hear her.

“Help!” she cried, her voice hoarse from disuse. She cleared her throat. “Help me!” she screamed as she hopped toward the gate as quickly as she could. “Help—”

All at once the wind was knocked out of her lungs and she fell heavily to the grass, momentarily stunned. She felt herself being hauled to her feet and then flung over a man’s shoulder. His arm clamped hard around the back of her thighs and her head bumped against his bare back as James carried Kelsey back into the house.

He kicked the back door closed with his foot and set her, none too gently, on a kitchen chair. Her leg was screaming, her heart pounding, her head reeling. She had been so close. So close!

“No!” she heard herself wailing, as if from a distance. “No, no, no! You can’t do this. Let me go! Let me—” She was stunned into silence by the back of his hand smashing against her mouth.

“You,” James said, glaring at her, his eyes dark with fury, “are a very, very bad girl.” It was only then that she saw the gun in his hand. He waved it in her direction. “What happens to bad girls, Kelsey? Tell me!”

Kelsey touched her face, which was stinging from the blow. Her lower lip was split and bleeding. She touched it gingerly with her tongue. She stared at James’ angry face and then at the muzzle of his gun, speechless with terror.

This was it.

She was going to die.

The oxygen in the room vanished, leaving her gasping like a fish out of water, her heart pounding in a deep, steady boom. Her bones melted inside her body and she felt herself sliding from the chair to the floor, powerless to stop herself. The world shifted and cracked wide, and she welcomed the opening chasm, slipping soundlessly into the arms of the enveloping darkness.

Chapter 8

James didn’t wait for her to regain consciousness. He scooped her into his arms and pushed open the door that led to the garage with his hip. He managed to get the car’s passenger door open, and he slid her into the seat. Grabbing some bungee cords he kept on a shelf in the garage, he pulled her arms behind the seat and used the cords to bind them tight.