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'Fears'

Author: Janina peters
last update Last Updated: 2025-06-25 13:25:37

MIA

The front door slams. Echoes reverberate through the house, shattering the fragile peace. I watch, frozen, as Aaron storms out, a gun glinting menacingly in his hand. A real gun. Here. In the living room. My breath hitches. Somewhere I’ve stayed most of my time here.

Aaron rarely loses his composure when it comes to work, but right now there is something truly dangerous in his gaze. He looks completely primal like he’s going to annihilate the next person he sees.

My mouth is still ajar in shock. He was just here, minutes ago, his lips on mine, my hands on my body and now he is running out of here. What could have happened? Who called him? What did they say? Did they even say anything to trigger him?

Something in me knows that everything has gotten even more dangerous. I’m starting to see the reason why Aaron is keeping me at home. It’s for my good. No matter how suffocating I feel it is, my life is actually at stake.

I sink onto the nearest chair, my legs suddenly weak. My head
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  • THE HOSTAGE'S DILEMMA    Packed and Missing

    MIAI wake up slowly. The bed is soft. The sheets feel like silk against my skin. I sigh and stretch my arms above my head. My eyes open fully. The room is bright. Sunlight streams through the wide windows. I look to my side. The space next to me is empty. Aaron is not here.A small sigh escapes me. I shrug it off. Maybe he is making coffee. I sit up. My feet touch the cool floor. I notice something different. My smaller carry-on bag is zipped up by the closet. All my things are packed. This is strange. I did not pack them.I reach for my phone on the nightstand. The screen lights up. I see a new text message. It is from Aaron. My heart gives a little flutter. I open the message. It is short. "I have somewhere to be. Drew will pick you up. You two will travel back to New York together. See you soon Kitten."I read the words again. "See you soon Kitten." A warmth spreads through my chest. Butterflies erupt in my stomach. This feels different. Last time we were in a situation like this,

  • THE HOSTAGE'S DILEMMA    Hidden Agendas

    DREWThe aroma of roasted coffee beans hangs heavy in the air, a comforting blanket that does little to soothe the tension radiating from across the small, round table. I bring the ceramic mug to my lips, the dark liquid warming my throat as I sip slowly.I notice Trina’s unease but I try not to pay attention to it and focus on my coffee. Her fingers tap an annoying rhythm on the polished wood, a restless drumbeat that echoes the frustration etched on her face. Her eyes, usually sharp and calculating, are clouded with a mix of anger and something similar to sadness. She stares out the window, back at me, then down at her fingers, her jaw clenched. Finally, a low, frustrated groan escapes her, a sound that vibrates through the quiet hum of the cafe.I lower my mug, meeting her gaze steadily. “What’s wrong?” My voice is calm, perhaps too calm for the storm brewing in her.She snaps her head up, her eyes blazing. “What’s wrong? You’re asking me what’s wrong, Drew?” Her voice is a sharp w

  • THE HOSTAGE'S DILEMMA    A Fragmented Past

    MIAThe silent hum of the engine is the only sound in Aaron’s car. Outside, the city lights blur into streaks of gold and red, but inside, the darkness feels heavy, suffocating. The image of my mother flickers in my mind. My chest feels tight. I take steady breaths but it feels like my lungs are trapped. Aaron’s hand is in mine, his thumb stroking my knuckles gently. We drive like this for what feels like an eternity, though it’s probably only twenty minutes. The car glides smoothly, taking us further and further away from the nightmare of my past, back to the peaceful environment we left behind in the morning.When we finally pulled up to the hotel, the valet was already waiting. He opens my door, but I’m too numb to even acknowledge him. Aaron takes my hand, pulling me gently from the car. His grip is firm, reassuring. We walk through the lobby, the hushed voices of other guests a distant murmur. I barely register the dazzling chandeliers or the fresh floral scent that kept me in a

  • THE HOSTAGE'S DILEMMA    Joy in the Little Things

    MIAThe shower’s steam still clings to my skin, a warm shroud I am reluctant to shed. I stand before the grand mirror in Aaron’s suite bathroom, a fluffy white towel wrapped around my hair. I reach for the clothes I pulled from my bag. A pair of well-worn jeans, familiar and soft. A simple, plain grey t-shirt. I pull them on, running a brush through my still-damp hair, letting it fall loose around my shoulders. I don't bother with makeup. When I step out into the main living area of the suite, the rich aroma of coffee and something savory immediately greets me. Aaron stands by the kitchen island, his back to me. He wears dark trousers and a crisp white shirt, the sleeves rolled up to reveal his drool-worthy forearms. He turns, sensing my presence. A small, almost imperceptible smile touches his lips as his eyes sweep over me. "Morning," he says, his voice a low rumble. "Slept well?""Very well," I admit, walking closer. The table is already set for two, simple and elegant. Fresh fr

  • THE HOSTAGE'S DILEMMA    A Calculated Risk

    NATALIEThe air hangs thick and stuffy. I sit on the worn leather couch, a half-smoked joint heavy in my fingers. Across from me, Reese leans back, his eyes half-lidded, the glow of his joint a tiny, pulsing beacon in the dim light of his den. Smoke curls around us, a comforting, familiar haze that usually dulls the edge of the world. This was a lifestyle I swore I’d never go back to but it only took a sight of it to send me back to where I started.Reese’s phone buzzes on the low coffee table between us. He doesn’t move at first, just exhales a long stream of smoke. Then, with a grunt, he reaches for it, his movements slow and deliberate. He glances at the caller ID, a flicker of something unreadable in his eyes, before he taps the screen.“What?” he says, his voice a low rumble. He brings the phone to his ear, but then, surprisingly, he presses the speaker button. The voice on the other end is urgent and carries a frantic edge that instantly cuts through the smoky calm.“Reese, it’s

  • THE HOSTAGE'S DILEMMA    "Safe Heaven"

    MIAI walk out of the interrogation room, the bright lights of the police station still buzzing in my ears. The air outside feels heavy, thick with the unspoken questions that linger even after I’ve given my statement. My voice still feels raw from repeating the revised version of events, the one where Aaron doesn't exist in Mabel’s entire kidnapping. Every word I choose is calculated. I try to keep the rescue story straight to avoid implicating Aaron. They ask about the kidnappers, their motive, and the precise details of how Mabel was recovered. I invented a story about a random phone call that threatened me and made me travel back immediately. I explained that I arrived at the scene and saw them already on the ground. I describe the call, the men, anything to deflect from the real, dangerous complexity of it all. My heart pounds with each fabrication, but my face remains impassive. The police look at me with a mixture of sympathy and suspicion, but they have no real evidence to co

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