I hummed a tune. An annoying one.All on purpose.What else was I going to do? Sarcasm was my nature. Bating the beast my fun. There was no stopping who I was, and that alone was bound to get me killed sooner rather than the never I dreamed of.We’d been at the same motel for three days. The only time I’d gotten fresh air was when Six opened the door in his comings and goings, leaving me chained to the bed of this shithole.And it really was a shithole. The longer I was there, the more I saw. Good thing I wasn’t a germaphobe, because I didn’t want to overthink what could be lurking in the bed I was lying on.Over the prior seventy-two hours, I’d become fully immersed in my new reality. Accepting my situation and all. The fact that I was going to die much sooner than later only spurred on my whole let-it-go attitude.And there was a vision of Elsa from Frozen in her blue gown singing in the snow.It wasn’t that I hadn’t tried to escape, but the sad news was he knew what h
Stats:10 – days held captive by a killer9 – days in shithole motel7 – times I pissed my captor off5 – times a gun was pointed at me12 – times his cock was in me in some way7 – number of orgasms (fucker stopped 5 others)2 – escape attempts (discontinued after day 3)11 – times his hands were around my neck (4 orgasms obtained, seemed I liked a little breath play)19 – number of times I ate fast food. Always good, but I was ready to be done with it for a while.24 – visible weapons of assortment1 – pair of clean underwear left428 – times I was pissed at myself for being physically attracted to the psycho“Here,” Six said as he walked through the door, following another of his disappearances, and threw an envelope at me.For the past eight days he’d left for hours each day. Usually he came back with food of some sort. I had no idea where he went or what he did, but I’d fallen victim to the strange routine.The morning began with him already awake an
My hands shook the entire way to the airport. I never took drama in high school. Besides faking an occasional orgasm with a boyfriend, I’d never delved into acting at all. Now, I was about to enter an airport with a killer, who’d had me chained in a motel for a week, and pose as his wife.Shopping was different. Shopping I had fun with, especially when there was no limit. Going through a security checkpoint and customs with falsified documentation scared me in more ways than I could keep track of.There was nothing gentle, loving, or affectionate in Six’s touch. Then again, he fooled me the night I met him. Maybe if he acted like that, I could channel the me from that night and a dream of what that version of him and I could’ve morphed into.My mind wandered back to that night, to his smile. Since meeting Six, the only smile I was graced with was a condescending one or a menacing one when he had his cock in hand. When he was Simon, he was smooth, personable, and flirtatious.
I couldn’t stop staring up at the huge steel structure. It was larger than I ever dreamed. The one-third scale version at Kings Island couldn’t compare to the real thing—the Eiffel Tower.My kidnapper had taken me over four thousand miles from home. Not only that, I was staring out our hotel window right at the magnificent Paris icon.No dive motel. It probably cost over a grand per night. The view alone was worth that, and the hotel was pretty swanky as well. There was a four-poster bed with lavish and plush bedding. No springs in my side there.Near the window was a sofa and chairs with a few side tables, giving me the perfect lookout over the city. Just past the sitting area was a desk and chair, which Six turned around so he was always looking out over the room and keeping tabs on me.“I’m surprised we’re not in some back-alley special,” I said, still stunned, as I sat in the chair and continued to scan the skyline.He said nothing, but that was usual Six style. It was
“So, you speak French,” I said once we were out of the gorgeous building and the untouchable beings inside. It was like Mount Olympus in there.No response, like usual.“Any others?” Annoyance seeped in. Was it so fucking hard to answer a few simple questions?“About seven.”“Wow. Talented tongue.”He turned and smirked at me. “I thought I proved that the first night.”Fuck.Yes, he did.“You’ve slept with her.” The words were out before I could retract them. His dismissive attitude grated on me.He turned to me. “You picked that up from a kiss?” He pulled out a handkerchief from his pocket and wiped his lips.I rolled my eyes. “Sometimes you are just a regular guy.”“What does that mean?” he asked, his brow scrunching.“That means, duh, asshole. Pretty obvious when she gave your junk a little squeeze at the end there.”The valets opened the car doors and we both slipped in, Six tipping the driver as we did.My arms crossed over my chest, and I stared out the fron
“Are you finished?” Six asked as he reached across the coffee table.I looked up at him as I took another sip of my wine. Glancing down at my plate, there was still half a chicken breast and some cheese and baguette, but I nodded anyway and turned toward the window just in time to see the Eiffel Tower start twinkling in the moonlight.It was late, and I was hoping the wine, which Six ordered, would make it easier to fall asleep. Five days had passed, and I had become very blasé.My spark was gone, or at least hiding. Depression was overpowering everything, and I had no will to do anything. Even sleep eluded me as my mind whirled about nothing. I stared up at the ceiling, blank, unresponsive in the night.It wasn’t me. I wasn’t me.Cracked and broken as I tried not to cry, thinking about everything that was wrong. Accepting that I was already dead inside. Being on my period didn’t help, nor the trip with him to a pharmacy, the hormonal shift making my depression worse.Pur
Six let me have the next afternoon on the beach. Warm sun and sand, salty waters, the whole shebang. Though I had to admit it wasn’t as much fun by myself, even with the rented chairs and umbrella complete with a waiter that brought me a Six-approved fruity drink.Six was simply a guardian, making sure I didn’t pursue my swim to Cuba idea or get carried away by one of the meatheads tanning his over-muscled, over-tanned skin. Glued to his phone, he only left the lounger to get his feet wet in the waves. He even brought his gun with us, stuffed in the beach bag and under his chair.Digby and I had talked multiple times about going to Miami for vacation, but it never happened.“Your burn faded,” Six said the next morning.I turned in front of the mirror to get a look at my back and shoulders. Sure enough, the color had evened out. Though, no matter how tan I got, I still looked burned.By evening, pink had begun to blossom on my skin. Even applying SPF 50 every few hours wasn
There was a constant humming and an occasional bump, but I couldn’t see anything. My eyes were glued shut as I slowly woke up.Based on the ache in my neck and throat that was blossoming into my consciousness, I probably didn’t want to see. As my eyes fluttered open, there was another bump and the humming grew louder, but I couldn’t make out what was in front of me.I was sagged to the side, and as my eyes opened I sat up, cracking my neck and shoulders in the process. It was then my brain aligned with my vision and I saw that we were in the car, driving down some highway.“Whe—“ I reached up and cupped my throat. It was raw, making it hard to talk, and it hurt. “Where are we?” I managed to get out, but it was dry sounding and scratchy, lower than normal.I glanced to Six, but he didn’t say anything. He didn’t even look at me, just stared straight ahead. It even hurt to swallow, so I pulled down the vanity mirror to check my tonsils. I really hoped I wasn’t coming down with