Don’t Lock Me In Again Novels & Stories

Unanticipatedly, John Kai locked the door behind them and confined both of them to the room by shutting the door behind them. You have to make the most of this opportunity since Agnes was also aware that he served a purpose; thus, you should not waste this time. - Doris, you know it's me, right? Doris couldn't speak so she could only nod. Agnes was also tied up, so if he gave her a monologue this time, that's fine, she would speak her heart out without being stopped.

Wіth thаt, hе shuts the dооr abruptly, and I’m left ѕtаrіng at thе stub оf the tіnу nаіl fіlе still lоdgеd іn thе lосk. Oh mу Gоd. Fuck! I rеаllу аm locked іn. I’m being hеld аgаіnѕt mу wіll. Oh mу Gоd, оh my God. I need tо call Blаkе. I rip ореn thе оffісе drаwеr аgаіn and рісk up Jеѕѕuр’ѕ рhоnе.

My case was different, and being trapped there for a long time was the worst experience I had had. “Albert,” I called him, then chewing on my bottom lip, a bit embarrassed of what I was thinking at the moment. “Yes, my love,” He said, brushing my hair again. “Is the door lock?” I asked, smiling. “Hmm... I did lock the door,” He answered, and I understood his purpose. So no one from the portal could open it. He looked down at me. “Why?” His forehead furrowed with confusion. I shook my head, then surprised him with a kiss on his lips. I moved on top of him, feeling him, then took off my shirt.

How could it be the same person who’s been so gentle, so caring in those stolen moments? Taking out my phone, I make one final call. I need to fix at least one thing—my locks. It’s not just about keeping Dante out anymore. It’s about Justin, too. I can’t trust either of them, and the thought of either one walking into my space again makes my skin crawl.

Becky’s heart skipped a beat. "You said…?" she managed, her voice softer than she intended. She didn’t want to make trouble. She wasn’t here to stir up old fights. But Manni didn’t answer, instead turning to lock the door with a loud, deliberate click, Becky’s heart began to race. "What are you doing?" Becky asked, the words spilling out in a nervous rush. "Why are you locking the door? Did you bring me in here just to argue? Is this how you want to catch up after three years?" She tried to sound calm.

It felt like an eternity. I writhed against the ropes again, a desperate, futile effort. Tears welled in my eyes. Then, a memory flickered in my mind – the dungeon lock. It was a lock that didn’t have a space for a key. I had been too weak to think much of it, but somehow, focusing my energy, I had managed to unlock it. It was a faint connection to the power I didn’t know I had, a sliver of power that hadn't been completely suppressed. Maybe…just maybe…

Not another day. Not another hour. Not another minute. She reached the front door. Her fingers trembled as she grabbed the handle. Twisted. Pulled. Nothing. Locked. Her stomach dropped. "No..." She pulled harder. Again. Nothing. The door didn't budge. Panic began creeping into her chest. Eva looked around desperately. Then she noticed it. The lock. Not one. Two. Heavy metal locks bolted into the frame. Her pulse quickened. "No... no, no, no..."

The thought has my lungs constricting, and I gasp at the idea of being caged again. I can’t. I won’t let them. Before I can think, my hand is turning the knob and shoving the door open. It bangs against the wall as I barge into the living room. Both men turn, staring at me with wide eyes. “You’re not locking me up again!” I snap, stepping toward them. My voice is sharper than expected, but I don’t lighten up. I spin on Lucas, pinning him with my glare. “Do you agree with him? Are you going to lock me away?”

She grabbed me roughly and dragged me into a small room, locking me inside. “Stay there!” “Aah…” I sank to the floor, clutching my aching arm and leg. But I endured it. I immediately pulled out the phone. “Shit… pattern lock!” I tried several common patterns. Failed. Again. Locked out multiple times, but I didn’t give up. “Please, please, let this one work…” “YES!” It unlocked! I quickly typed Nick’s number. Cannot be reached. Again. Again. Nothing. So I left a message:

He called again and again, each time ending the same way. He grew anxious and opened the trash folder once more, then carefully read my message. [Eight years of obsession and four years of forbidden desire end here. I'm no longer your secretary, and I don't love you anymore, Don Valeri. We'll go our separate ways, and never meet again in this life.]