Trapping Sophia (Disciples 6)

It should be considered a sin for a man like James to wear a suit like that.

And if he kisses me…

Fuck, if he kisses me…

I’m doomed if I don’t find a way to get out before he gets back.

My panic now a living, breathing thing, I run around the house like a madwoman, checking all the doors and windows.

Only to find them all locked and sealed tight.

On the verge of giving up, I pound my fist against the window in his bedroom.

Then I remember the meat tenderizer.

Running back downstairs, I find the same mallet he used to shatter my phone in the kitchen sink. Like some crazed serial killer, I heft it up, getting a feel for it in my hand, and stalk toward the front window.

Mitzy follows behind me and barks at me like she knows exactly what I plan on doing.

“Stay back, I don’t want you to get hurt,” I warn her.

Frantically, she yips and barks. So agitated, she’s practically bouncing in place as she yells at me.

Ignoring her, I put both hands on the tenderizer, pull my arms back, then swing.

The tenderizer hits the window with a loud crack and the vibration travels all the way up to my teeth.

But the window doesn’t break.

The glass cracks, filling with thin spiderwebs, but the place I hit remains solid. The glass in that spot turning white, as if it suddenly frosted.

I stare at the window for a second in disbelief.

Then I lift the tenderizer, pull my arms back, and whack the fucker again.

More cracks spread through the glass and the round spot of impact becomes more opaque, but the window holds, refusing to shatter.

“What the fuck?!” I screech.

Desperate to be free, I whack at the window until it feels like my arms are going to fall off.

No matter how hard I hit it though, or where I hit it, I can’t break through.

Sweaty, tired, and on the verge of tears, I toss the mallet away and drop to my knees. Grabbing at my head, I try to calm down and think.

There has to be a way out of here…

There has to be.

The doors are locked. The windows are made of a glass that refuses to break.

He mentioned something about Tom Sawyer… but that’s in the basement.

Fuck.

“Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!”

The asshole totally locked me in a cage.

Rocking back and forth, I yank on my own hair, wishing I could wrap my hands around James’s neck and squeeze. Squeeze and choke the life out of him for doing this to me.

For trapping me.

For taking advantage of me.

For making me want him.

What if there’s a fire?

What if Mitzy has to pee?

He would think of those things, wouldn’t he?

But maybe it completely slipped his mind…

Maybe he didn’t think that far ahead before he left.

And maybe if I call him, maybe if I ask him to open the door for Mitzy, he’ll unlock it.

Calming myself a little, I take a few deep breaths and decide to use that little touch screen he pointed out to call him.

Pulling my hands out of my hair, I straighten and rise to my feet. Little Mitzy follows behind me as I walk back to the door that leads to the garage.

After examining the little touch screen for a couple of seconds, I push around on it, trying to cycle through the options.

Everything is grayed out though, except for the current status, which reads Locked Down in red, and the white Call Contacts.

No matter how many times I mash my finger against the red Locked Down or any of the other grayed-out options, nothing happens.

Giving up, I push on the contacts and scan over the brief list.

Lucifer.

Simon.

Oscar.

Jude.

James.

For a second, I’m tempted, very tempted, to push on Lucifer’s name and go straight to the source.

He’s truly the reason for all of this shit, and he’s known for making deals, hence his name.

But what do I have to offer him? I don’t even know what they want!

Deciding James himself is my best way out of this, I press on his name.

The touch pad rings a couple of times, like it’s a phone, then James’s voice comes through.

“Missing me already?” he asks with a touch of laughter in his voice.

“Not in the least!” I nearly shriek, immediately forgetting I need to play nice if I want this to work.

James chuckles as if he doesn’t believe me. “Then why are you calling me? I haven’t been gone five minutes…”

Biting back the urge to tell him to stay gone, I grit out, “I think Mitzy needs to pee.”

“And?” James asks, and I swear I hear him yawning.

Is he purposely trying to piss me off again?

I take a deep breath to calm myself.

If he’s going to believe me, I must stay calm.

“I need you to unlock the door so I can take her out,” I say.

Sounding a little suspicious, James says, “Oh? She knows how to get out if she needs to.”