I expected him to be rough as he pulled me out of the van, but his hands were gentle on me, soothing almost.
I didn’t like that, didn’t like how my body reacted to him.
I was stumbling around even though he held on to me, the sound of my breathing filling my ears. I felt like I’d passed out, but he kept me close to his big body, the hardness of his chest and arms making me feel extremely small and vulnerable, very feminine.
I heard several sets of doors opening, and although I couldn’t see in front of me, when I looked down, beneath the blindfold, there was a sliver of an opening, a minute area that wasn’t obscured. I could see a hardwood floor, my shoes soft on it as I was pulled forward. More doors opened and closed, and then we stopped for a second. I heard them talking, these deep murmurs that were far too low for me to understand what was being said, but still he kept his arm on me, kept me close.
Whatever they were talking about was heated, their murmurs getting faster, harsher. And then another door opened and it drowned out the conversation.
“We’re going to go down some stairs. I won’t let you fall.”
I didn’t know why I believed a word he spoke, but when he said that, I knew it was the truth. He wouldn’t let me fall.
I reached out on instinct, my hand landing on smooth drywall as we descended. I could tell the stairs were carpeted, soft and almost plush beneath my shoes. It smelled clean, a mixture of lemon and cotton.
The door we had just come from closed above us, sounding so far away, as if I’d descended into hell.
Maybe I had.
“One more door, and then we’ll be alone,” he said huskily, and then I found myself standing alone, his body away from mine, the chill in the air having nothing to do with the actual temperature, but because he wasn’t near me anymore.
I wrapped my arms around my waist, I supposed to make myself seem smaller, less noticeable. I was terrified, my heart racing and my palms sweaty. I was still breathing frantically, on the verge of hyperventilating. I had no idea what he had planned for me, but in the back of my mind, I kept telling myself he wouldn’t kill me, that he wouldn’t go through all this trouble if he just planned on snuffing my life out.
“I’m not sure what you want from me. But I don’t have anything. I don’t have money or anyone who cares that I’m gone. No one will give you a ransom for me.” I was rambling, so scared at this point I was begging, hoping he would sympathize, empathize with me.
He didn’t answer, but I could hear him moving around. He wasn’t very far away, his presence like this heavy weight surrounding me.
My hands started shaking, but I clenched them tighter around me. “What do you want? What do you plan on doing with me… to me?” I turned my head when I heard him to my left, then did the same when he moved to my right. “Are you going to kill me?” God, my voice was just as shaky as my hands had been.
“No. I’m not going to hurt you,” he finally said, and I exhaled in relief, although I didn’t know why I believed a word he said.
“I’m no one. I have nothing to offer, nothing you could possibly want.” Before I knew what was happening, the blindfold was taken from me, his fingers skimming along the side of my cheek, sending chills along my body.
I blinked, my vision starting to clear, that blurriness waning. The light was harsh, but then it mellowed out, evening in tone.
I held in my gasp when I saw him standing right in front of me. He didn’t move, didn’t even breathe as he looked at me. I had to crane my neck to look into his face. He blocked out everything behind him, making me feel even smaller than I was in his presence.
“What’s your name?”
The way he asked me that I could tell it wasn’t a question but more so a demand. I thought about lying, maybe ignoring him. But in the end, I was truthful. “Amelia.” Did he hear me? I’d whispered that and wasn’t even sure I said it out loud.
“Amelia.”
God, the way it sounded on his lips…
“I’m Dom.”
Dom. D. Blue Eyes.
I didn’t say his name out loud, didn’t want to give him the satisfaction, didn’t want to give me the satisfaction.
“What do you want?” I asked again, but I was afraid of how he’d respond.
“You know what I want,” he said without apology, as if I really did know what he wanted.
“N-no, I have no idea why I’m here, what you want with me.” I smoothed my hands down my skirt, a cold sweat covering my entire body.