Kiss Me in the Dark Anthology - Monica James Page 0,121

playfully threatened my boyfriend not to harm a hair on my head or there’d be hell to pay. The man who had hugged me tight when my dog Molly got run over by a car and passed away.

Exhaustion overwhelms me and I sag in his arms. I’m so tired. So very, very tired.

“We’ll talk in the morning,” he whispers, almost sweetly, into my ear as he guides me over to the bed. “Over breakfast.”

I burst into tears and he calms me with strokes on my grimy skin that should repulse me. But they don’t. I want to close my eyes and pretend this didn’t happen. I want to pretend he’s here to save me.

“I’m scared,” I choke out.

He yanks the covers back on the bed in the room and climbs in with me. It’s only now that I realize he’s wearing jeans but no shirt. My skin reacts and a cold sweat breaks out over me. I’m terrified, and yet, I want him to comfort me. I want him to promise me that this is all a bad dream and I’ll wake in the morning in my own bed.

He drags the covers up over us and for the first time in days, I’m warm. Gabe is a monster and yet I’m twisting in his arms to get closer—to get warmer. My arm wraps around his middle and I bury my face into his bare chest.

“Shhh,” he murmurs against my hair and then kisses me. “I have you now. You’re mine, Baylee. All mine. Rest now and let me watch over you.”

His words are enough to calm me and exhaustion steals me away.

After the hell I’ve endured over the past few days, this is heaven.

The devil is my savior.

Bacon.

My stomach grumbles and I come to. Blinking my eyes slowly, I take in the wooden walls that surround me in this sparse room. Where am I?

I’m in hell. I remember now.

The heavenly scent of breakfast wafting through the cabin, though, is enough to push away my worries and I focus on regaining my energy first. Every muscle in my body screams in agony. I’m not sure if I’ll even be able to walk. The thought is alarming.

I have to try though. Maybe we’re near people. If I can get out the front door and run to the street, I could flag down a car. Someone could rescue me.

“I told you. For every step you tried to escape, I’d whip you. And you made it four steps before I caught you. Does it hurt, Baylee?”

What if it’s a hundred steps to the road before he catches me? I shudder at the idea of him whipping me raw. My backside is still tender from last night. When I go to move my hand to finger the spot—to see if he broke the skin—panic threatens to drown me.

I’m tied up.

I’m tied up.

Holy crap, I’m tied up.

A tug of my legs indicates that my ankles are bound and strung to each post at the end of the bed. My wrists are secured together and rest on my belly under the blanket that’s been pulled to my chin. I try to sit up but I have no strength left.

“Help!”

Something clatters in the kitchen. I hear normal sounds that one would expect to hear as someone cooked breakfast. And that is what terrifies me even more. Gabe is carrying on as if this is normal—as if this is okay.

It is absolutely not okay.

“Help!”

Heavy footsteps thunder down the hallway toward me and tears stream out of the corner of my eyes. I’m afraid. I want my dad. I want Brandon. I want someone who could help me.

“Good morning, sweetheart.”

If I weren’t tied up—if I were here under my own desires—I’d be in awe of the sight. The devil, disguised as an angel, stands in the doorway resembling a combination of both beauty and evil. His dark hair is still wet as if he’s recently showered and he’s once again shirtless. The man, despite being in his forties, still works out and has an impressive physique. His shoulders are broad and thick while his toned torso tapers down into a narrower waist. Dark jeans hang low on his hips and dark hair disappears into them. If things were different, I’d almost say he was hot.

But I’m his prisoner, not his lover.

So despite his body being hot, it’s his eyes that are cold. Coffee-colored eyes are narrowed at me and his chiseled jaw is moving in a furious manner, reminding me