Dangerous Thirst (Possessing Her Book 1), page 4
“Oh, I’ve had plenty of times when I thought I covered my tracks good enough and then I see cops finding evidence on the news,” the man beside me said. He took another hit before offering the joint to me.
This time, I accepted without thought, inhaling deeply as I racked my brain for options. “What do you want?” I asked, feeling cornered.
“Here’s everything you need to know.”
I was handed another envelope. Inside, there was an even shorter message. I pulled out a sheet with writing—an address and a name—and a picture of a petite-looking woman a bit too tame to ever catch my eye.
“That’s who we need, and that’s where she is,” the man beside me said in answer to my unasked questions.
“And what do you want me to do with her?” I was afraid to hear the answer.
“Just hold her for a few days. You’ll bring her to us when we call, and then you can have your life back.” The man shrugged as if it wasn’t too much to ask.
“Or you can ignore us. Maybe think we’re all a joke. Then your employer sees what’s on that iPad, and you lose everything. It’s all your choice, Hunter,” the large man spoke in the kindest tone imaginable.
Before I could respond, the car pulled to the side of the road. “Get out.”
I was speechless, feeling unequipped for what they had just demanded, but I followed their instructions and climbed out of the SUV.
“You need to get her tonight. No delays. We’ll be in touch regardless of which option you choose.”
The SUV pulled away much faster than it had arrived, and I walked back to my car, contemplating what I would do.
It wasn’t like I had options, and they knew that. I could follow their lead or go to prison. Once I arrived in the convenience store parking lot, I absentmindedly drove to a hardware store I knew kept late hours.
Sitting outside, I questioned if I could do what they had asked: kidnap a woman who, according to the picture, looked frail and harmless.
Retrieving the envelope from my pocket, I looked at her again. Even in her photo, she looked scared. What could they possibly want with her?
That wasn’t my concern, but I did need to decide if I would help them gain control of her.
My mind kept returning to what had been on the tablet. They had shown me the photos as if I had some sense of remorse for the secret I had been hiding to maintain my life. They were wrong if that was what they thought scared me. There wasn’t one ounce of guilt in my body. Everything I had done was justified, but I wasn’t willing to sacrifice my life as I knew it to prove it. Or was I?
Olivia
Saturday Night
After a long day, I took a shower, allowing the warm water to rush over me. It cascaded down my body, relieving the tension. Washing my hair, I felt the heaviness of my decision hovering over me.
I had always enjoyed dating. I had even considered a few suitors as serious candidates. But what man would ever want to be with a woman responsible for so many children?
Tasha had warned me that I was dedicating my life to a cause that would leave me little time for myself, but my children were worth it, and sacrificing my love life was of little importance.
Stepping out of the shower, I wrapped my thin frame in one of the few towels I’d brought from home. There was so much to do before the children arrived, including buying toiletries in bulk so they could shower in their new home.
I slipped a silk nightgown over my head before wrapping my wet hair in a bun, opting to let it dry overnight since I hadn’t brought my blow dryer inside, and going out to the car was not an option.
My bedroom, which sat at the back of the house, was the largest of all the rooms and had a view of the others, which I hoped would make the children feel safe. I wanted them all to feel like I was watching and protecting them in a way that abandoned children rarely got to experience.
I made my way into bed, pulling the covers up to my chin as I struggled to find a comfortable spot. It was my first night staying in the home, and the ceiling seemed to captivate me, keeping me from my dreams.
For what felt like hours, I stared aimlessly, questioning what my life would become when the children moved in. There was so much that was unknown. It was hard to predict how things would turn out.
The children could love staying with me or they could hate it. I had heard more than enough stories about children running away or taking control of foster homes so that the adults felt more like prisoners in their own home.
All I could hope was that I had proven to the children who would soon move in that I was worthy of their trust, which I personally understood to be a lot to ask from anyone who had experienced trauma comparable to theirs.
I thought of the feeling that coursed through me whenever I solved a problem for them, big or small. Whether it was helping with homework or attending a mother-daughter dance, I was overjoyed any time I could bring a smile to their faces.
Giving back to my children would always be a way to help the younger version of me who had desperately needed an advocate. With that thought, I drifted off to sleep, confident I was making the right decision and it would all work out in my favor.
I awoke abruptly, popping up in bed from an awful nightmare that escaped me. My mind was scattered, and in my new home, I felt uncomfortable.
Thoughts of Kevin in the parking lot began to race through me as my body went cold. I had decided to accept him as an ally, but I knew enough to never doubt my intuition. Something was off, but I had yet to install the alarm system, so there wasn’t much I could do.
Taking a deep breath, I forced myself to lie down, shaking my head at my easily frightened nature. I had always been quick to get spooked and staying in a new place was a common trigger.
My eyes grew heavy. Then a shadow crossed my peripheral vision. I shot up in bed again, wondering if I was making up things in my head. Could I be psyching myself out?
Again, I lay back, taking a deep breath as I stared at the ceiling.
Out of nowhere, a heavy hand slapped across my face, covering my mouth. I tried to sit up again, but the force was too strong. Hovering above me was a tattered Halloween mask. The hand drifted from my mouth.
I opened my mouth to scream, and a gag was forced between my lips, quieting me instantly. My body went numb with fear as I grew incredibly anxious, unsure what would happen next.
“Don’t say a word,” a calm voice instructed from behind the mask. It was a strange voice I’d never heard before, but I racked my brain for any sign of recognition.
The intruder lifted me from the bed. My silk nightgown rippled around me as I wondered what was going to happen to me. All I wanted was to help children escape their abusive lives, and now I was being silenced in the house I had planned to start a family in.
Wiggling didn’t seem to help, but I tried to free myself from the grip of the stranger. The person was too strong for me to overpower, but I didn’t stop fighting.
My life flashed before my eyes as I strained to breathe with the gag pressed against my tongue, silencing my cries.
8. Chapter Six
Olivia
Saturday Evening
A large thud sent my head crashing into a hard ceiling, much too low to be the roof of a car. From what I could tell, I was in a trunk of a car, but that was hard to tell with a bag over my head. The car seemed to be moving quickly, making sharp turns that sent my body from one end of the small space to the other.
My mind raced with savage thoughts about my future, while my heart beat fast as I remembered my past. I was lying in bed, in the empty home I’d recently purchased to help foster children. I was going to give them a home and provide the safe haven I needed growing up in an orphanage. The children should have been moving in within a few days, but just as I’d fallen asleep, everything changed.
A man in a ragged Halloween mask appeared from nowhere before stuffing a gag in my mouth, covering my head with a dark cloth, and tying my hands together. He’d carried me out of my house without saying a word, and now everything I had worked so hard for felt like a distant memory.
There was no other reason to kidnap me other than to be a sick creep, because I didn’t have any money or family willing to pay a ransom. On top of that, I’d never made an enemy in my life, so I knew no one would want to hurt me. No, this was the work of a man who wanted to torture me and have his way. There was no other alternative I could come up with.
People were sick; it was a part of life living in a big city, and Chicago was known to have more than a little crime. I knew there was always danger lurking around the corner, which was part of my reason for starting the foster home. Little did I know that I would be the one in need of rescue.
Just then, the car finally rolled to a stop as I tried to remember how long I’d been in it. Initially, I tried to recount every turn and sound, hopeful they would assist in my escape, but my tears and cries as I struggled to breathe with the gag in my mouth had made concentration difficult. It seemed like an eternity, but I imagine it was about a thirty-minute car ride.
There was a long pause as I waited for the man to finally open the trunk. While it was still dark, I could feel the fresh air from outdoors. He was silent, but I felt his presence hovering above me before his large hands tugged my legs. Hoisting me into the air, he threw me over what felt like his shoulder as if I were a bag of potatoes.
His walk was brisk but controlled, and I could hear the sound of rocks beneath his feet. Then we were on steps, about three or four, before I heard a door open. My heart rate spiked, and I knew things could only get worse now that we were alone in a private space. This had to be where he planned to torture me, and my adrenaline set in fast.
Growing up in an orphanage had taught me to fight for everything because nothing was guaranteed or handed to you. I had to be strong, and now was no different. Just as my captor began to lower me to the ground, I drove my knee into what felt like his groin.
Finally, I heard him—a low groan mixed with a growl as I blindly set out to seek refuge with my hands tied at my pelvis. Within two steps, he was on me, tackling me from behind as he slammed my body to the floor, rolling me onto my back and straddling me. He ripped the cloth from my face to reveal the Halloween mask that sent shivers down my spine.
But this time I caught a new detail—the bright blue eyes behind the mask stared back at me with less evil than I’d anticipated. I wanted to see more, but a muffled voice interrupted my thoughts.
“Don’t be fucking stupid! You’re here, and you’re not leaving. The sooner you accept that, the better.”
My chest rose and fell in tidal waves as fear mixed with adrenaline coursed through my veins. There was nowhere to run or move as I glanced around the foreign space, searching for any exit or weapons, but there were none.
“Do you hear me?” he growled.
Unable to speak around the gag, I nodded. Satisfied with my response, my captor rose from my midsection, and I got the first glimpse of his body. He was tall and muscular, and he lifted me with ease before carrying me up a flight of steps.
Kicking the thin wooden door with the toe of his boot, he revealed a bedroom that looked deserted. In fact, the entire home looked like it hadn’t been lived in for years. Everything was dusty and sparsely decorated like a ghost of a ghost of a home.
With a heavy plop, he dropped me onto the thin mattress. Instantly, I smelled the freshness of the sheets, which seemed to be the only new touch in the bedroom.
A small wooden dresser sat along one wall, which had two doors. One looked to lead into a bathroom, while the other appeared to be a closet. There was a small window beside the bed, and I tried to subtly look to see if I could access it if he ever left me alone.
It was high on the wall, and a bit small, but it would definitely be worth an attempt if I was ever given a chance. There was no way I could accept this as my fate and become his captive. Despite the kindness I thought I saw in his eyes, this man was a madman. Who else would kidnap a girl in a Halloween mask?
“If I take out your gag, do you promise to be quiet?” he asked. Quickly, I nodded. “No screaming!” he yelled. Again, I nodded.
Slowly, he removed the gag covered in my saliva before sitting it on the bed next to me. His eyes drifted to my thigh, more exposed now that my silk nightgown rose up a bit from all the action. I knew I needed to distract him.
“Why are you doing this to me?” I cried, tears already forming in my eyes.
He didn’t look at me when he answered. “I have to.”
He moved around the bed as he untied my hands and then began to tie the thick rope to the bedposts. He moved with purpose, his biceps flexing as he tightly bound my wrists and ankles to the wooden bed that matched the dresser. It looked like a set from when I was a child, untouched for many years.
“I haven’t done anything to anyone,” I tried to explain, hopeful there could be some type of misunderstanding we could clear up.
I didn’t deserve whatever he planned to do to me, and I needed to get back to the foster home I would be opening in a few days. He couldn’t know how important that place would be for so many young children, but I did, and I wanted him to understand it as well.
“Do you hear me? I have to get back!” I emphasized the last word, and he finally looked up at me, taking a break from tying me.
The kindness was stripped from his eyes, and the madman had returned. My stomach dropped at the thought of him hurting me, and I reneged on my promise, screaming as loud as I could. Wailing as I moved my head from side to side, I hoped a neighbor would hear me, but he was quickly on top of me.
“You fucking liar!” he hissed, shoving his hand over my mouth as his heavy body straddled me once more. I squirmed beneath him, twisting my head to bite his hand. He didn’t have the grimy taste I expected; instead he tasted like soap, or lotion.
As he pushed down on my mouth, I feared he would damage my teeth with his force, but then he shoved the gag back into my mouth and rose to his feet as quickly as he’d pounced on me.
“I tried to be nice. But you don’t know how to keep a promise,” he panted beneath the mask, pacing at the foot of the bed.
I watched him closely, hoping he wouldn’t take a step toward me. He was too angry, and I doubted my judgment. Maybe yelling wasn’t the best move, but I couldn’t stop myself when he looked at me with such terror in his eyes.
“You’re here with me, okay? That’s it! You’re not leaving!”
I nodded slowly as a heavy tear fell down my cheek. A mix of defeat and worry clouded my chest as I wondered what was next. Would he stay in the room with me? Hurt me? Rape me?
There was no noise in the house, which led me to believe we were alone. I couldn’t be sure if that was a good or bad thing. No one would be able to help me, but it also meant no one could help him. All I had to do was get by this one man, and I could be out of this hellhole, ready to open my foster home.
I tried to steady my breathing as he stopped pacing. Readying myself for a fight, I tugged the rope around my wrist restraining me to the bed, but there was no give; he had tied me tightly so that I couldn’t get away. I was completely at his mercy, a helplessness I’d never experienced in my life washing over me.
He could do whatever he wanted, and there was nothing I could do about it. The only question was what exactly did he want to do to me? That question remained unanswered.
“If you learn to behave, we will work better together. I can’t let you go. So get used to this,” he growled before turning, shutting off the lights, and leaving the bedroom.
A rush of relief washed over me being alone in the room. It was still horror, but at least I didn’t have the constant threat of him pouncing on me or hurting me in any way. Listening closely, I tried to hear how far he traveled in the house as I tugged on the rope again.
There was no way I could go anywhere, but I had to devise a plan; otherwise, who knew what he planned to do with me. My tears drowned out my cries until my breathing slowed and I drifted off to sleep, praying to wake from this nightmare.
9. Chapter Seven
Hunter
Saturday Evening
“What the fuck?” I whispered to myself as I paced my childhood bedroom.
It had been a long time since I’d visited the home my parents left behind after they’d passed a few years prior. There were so many bad memories I never found a reason to return, but something felt wrong about selling it, so I never put it on the market.
Now, it would house another bad memory—one I never saw happening. How had I found myself in the middle of a kidnap-for-hire plot?
Things were going so well only a few hours ago, and now my life seemed to be falling apart at the seams. I was at a gala for my law firm, rubbing elbows with some of the wealthiest men in Chicago with my trophy girlfriend draped over my arm. Every man in the room wanted a piece of her, but she never did more than bore me.
