My stalker steps forward, then reaches out and flips a switch. An overhead light comes on directly above me, illuminating a bare bulb hanging from a socket. The man pulls the door shut behind himself, the hinges sounding like groaning steel. All of a sudden, I realize I’m in a metal shipping container about the size of a standard bedroom.
“Where am I?” I ask, my tongue thick and heavy in my mouth. It’s an effort to form words.
The man is standing just beyond the scope of light. I have to admit, he’s more terrifying standing in the shadows than if he were right in my face. He gives a dark chuckle. “Why, you’re at my home.”
“You live in a steel box?” I snap.
He laughs again, totally amused by my defiance. “Of course not, my beautiful girl. I live in a house. But you are on land that encompasses my home, so that might be the better way to say it.”
“What did you do to me?” I ask, concerned at how much of an effort it is to talk. My words are heavy and slurred, and I struggle to make sure they sound coherent.
My kidnapper takes a step forward, then another. I shrink back as far as I can. When he comes into the scope of light, I realize he is more terrifying close up than when he was in the shadows. It all comes back to me—the normalcy of this man. How common he appears. He could be anybody. The fact he does not resemble a monster makes him all the more frightening.
He squats before me, placing his hands on my thighs just above my kneecaps. Bile rises in my throat from his touch. “I gave you Midazolam. It’s a short-acting sedative that should wear off soon.”
“Why? I got in the car as you asked. Why did you have to drug me?”
Snorting, the bastard shakes his head. “I really couldn’t have you struggling against me. You put up a hell of a fight the last time we met, so it’s with my deepest apologies I had to do that.”
A sharp, hysterical laugh bubbles up. “Apologize? You’ve tried to kill me once already. You’ve kidnapped me. And now you’re apologizing?”
His expression goes horrified at my accusation. Shaking his head, he says, “No, no, no. I didn’t try to kill you that first time, sweet girl. I just wanted you unconscious so I could… do things to you. I didn’t want to hit you on the head—maybe risk brain damage. And let me remind you that you willingly got in my car. I didn’t kidnap you.”
That’s just semantics, but then it hits me what he said. I did get in the car with him willingly, but that was because he has Lynn.
Terror jolts through my body. I jerk hard against my bindings, scanning wildly around the interior of the shipping container. I scream, “Lynn. Lynn, are you here?”
The man squeezes my legs reassuringly before he stands. “Calm down, Joslyn. She’s not here.”
I snap my head around, glaring with disbelief. “Where is she? What have you done to her? You promised you would let her go.”
“I didn’t need to let her go,” he drawls with a mischievous twinkle in his eye. “Because I never had her in the first place.”
My brain turns fuzzy again, trying to understand the meaning behind his words. “What? I don’t understand.”
The asshole bends and puts his face near mine. The smell of stale coffee hits me hard. His grin is leering. “Of course you don’t understand. Because you’re stupid, Joslyn. I never had Lynn. Did you ever stop to think that maybe I sent you a fake photo? That I had doctored it up? Did you not once consider that if I was good enough to hack into city cameras so you and your merry band of fake detectives couldn’t find me, that I could doctor up a single fucking photo? You’re so goddamn gullible, Joslyn, and you made this so easy. In fact, if I didn’t know any better, I’d say you wanted me to take you.”
My entire body sags into the chair as I realize I probably just destroyed my life, and probably Kynan’s as well, because I didn’t trust in him. I didn’t trust in the process of him protecting me. I fell for this asshole’s lie so damn easily and it also occurs to me that I will probably deserve everything I’m in for.
Head drooping, I stare at my pale thighs under the glaring light. My voice is tired and raspy. “Why me?”
The man straightens, then starts a slow walk around my chair. “Now that is a good question. Why you?”
He moves from my line of vision. When he comes up behind me, I brace for him to do something as sinister as slitting my throat or as creepy as just touching me. Instead, all I hear is his voice coming from the darkness.