Crazy In Love (Secrets of Suburbia #3) - Ivy Smoak Page 0,8

top of his broad, leather-jacket-clad shoulders. I frowned. Well, not that ridiculous. He somehow pulled it off. I stopped myself from removing his super uncomfortable looking jeans. There were lines and I needed to be careful to stop crossing them.

I stepped away from him. Now I could sleep peacefully knowing that his bruises had been taken care of and he was warm enough. I wasn't a monster. I pulled on the cord above his head and retreated up the stairs. Deadbolt back in place. Check. Front and back doors locked too. Check. I locked my bedroom door behind me and stared at the empty bed.

And then I stared at the ceiling while I tried to fall asleep.

And stared.

And stared.

I'd kidnapped him. I'd thrown him down the stairs and tied him up in my basement. And I'd molested his abs. I reached over and pinched myself to make sure this was real. Ow.

I was officially a criminal. There was no going back.

I wasn't sure if it was that thought that kept me awake. Or the possibility of him escaping.

Or maybe it wasn't either of those things. I flipped the light on my bedside table back on. When I was little I had been terrified of the dark. I slept with a nightlight until I was a teenager. I continued to stare at the ceiling that was fully lit now. Maybe I was still a little afraid that the darkness would swallow me whole.

Chapter 4

Saturday

Every inch of my body was sore, like I'd just run a marathon. Not that I'd know. Just the idea of running that many miles made me want to fake an injury to get out of it. I groaned and reached out my arm, expecting to feel my husband stretched out beside me. But my fingers came up empty. Silky sheets and no husband.

I yawned and slowly opened my eyes. His side of the bed was still perfectly made. Had he not come home last night? I sat up and looked around the room. His clothes weren't tossed carelessly on the floor, waiting for me to pick them up. And the shoes he refused to take off at the door like the asshole he was weren't anywhere in sight. I couldn't even smell his cologne that made me want to gag.

I touched my forehead, the action making the muscles in my arms sing. What the hell happened last night?

And then I heard a noise. It almost sounded like...screaming?

Oh. No. I threw the comforter off me as I scrambled out of bed. A part of me had hoped it had all been a dream. A bad, horrifying, wonderfully exciting dream. I felt my lips curl into a smile. I'd actually done it? Oh my God, I'd actually done it!

Oh. Yes. I threw my arms up in the air. Ow. Lifting him had not been easy. He was one heavy asshole. Inconsiderate like always.

He screamed again.

Shit. I ran out of my bedroom, down the stairs, and slid open the deadbolt. I finally had the courage to go through with my plan. And I wasn't about to have him ruin it by screaming bloody murder.

"Help!" he shouted. His words were a little more clear now. But still muffled. He must have somehow gotten the gag partially out of his mouth.

How the hell had he done that? I'd watched so many videos on how to properly...

"Is someone there?! Help!"

I started to walk down the stairs. "I need you to take a deep breath and calm down," I said. Shut up, shut up, shut up. Could our neighbors hear this? The last thing I needed was for nosy Sally to show up on my doorstep wondering what I was up to.

"Calm down? I don't know who you are or where I am but I'm tied up! Please, please for the love of God help me!"

Wait, what? My feet stopped at the top of the basement steps. He did know who I was. He did know where he was. What the hell was he talking about? "What do you mean you don't know where you are?" I called down the stairs.

"I mean I don't know where I fucking am! Untie me!"

Why did he not know where he was? Unless...how hard did he hit his head last night when he fell down the stairs? Did I break his skull? Had he been bleeding?

"Help me!"

I needed a minute to think. "Stop yelling. I'll be right back to untie you." I closed the door and slid the

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