I whirl around, raising my arm in front of me and pointing the fork in the direction of the voice. My eyes find the nameless guy that took me from my apartment. Inky black hair, and eyes the color of charcoal add to the dark vibe he’s got going on.
Dragging my gaze down his body, I find he’s wearing nothing more than a pair of low hanging basketball shorts. His broad, muscled chest is on display, and beads of sweat drip down it, leaving a trail behind.
Why is he sweating? Why am I staring?
I force myself to look away from his chest. I don’t care what he looks like, he kidnapped me. Peering up into his eyes, I find he’s staring me down, the dark orbs twinkle with a sliver of amusement when he spots the fork in my hand.
The blood in my veins turns to ice at the darkness I see in his eyes. There is no light, no good, and that scares me almost more than what’s happening because if he has no conscience, no reason to care, then I’m as good as dead.
“Let me go!” I order, cutting the fork through the air like a knife.
He grins, literally grins at me like I’m an adorable kitten, instead of a woman willing to do whatever she can to get free.
“Do you truly think you can hurt me with a fork?” he says, and it feels like a taunt, which only angers me more.
“There is no thinking about it. If you don’t let me go, I will stab you with this fork.” I make my voice sound strong and tighten my grip on the end. My palms are sweaty, and I’m scared. So damn scared. The last time I was this scared, I was sure that creeper was going to get me, and I refuse to let something bad happen again. If I have to, I’ll save myself.
He takes a threatening step toward me, and my muscles quake. My brain is telling me to run, ordering me to, but looking at the man before me, there is no way I’ll get around him, and even if I do, I have no idea where I’ll go.
“Put the fork down before you hurt yourself. I told you I wasn’t going to hurt you, and I meant it.” He speaks gently to me like I’m a child, and I stare at him with confusion. His words don’t match his actions. His voice is a soft whisper and doesn’t match the devil persona he’s giving off. I can only assume this is some sick game to him.
“Not yet… you’re not hurting me yet, but you will. I’m not stupid. Why else would you kidnap me and lock me in a basement? Let me go, and I won’t call the police. I won’t tell anyone about what happened.”
“I’m sorry, but I can’t do that, Dove,” he says, frowning and taking another step toward me. He lifts his hand, and I flinch, taking a step back to keep the distance between us.
“Can’t and won’t aren’t the same thing.” I look over his shoulder, trying to plan out my next move. It’s a mistake and one that’ll cost. He moves with lightning speed toward me. He’s going to kill me. All I can do is gasp as he grabs the wrist with the fork in it and squeezes hard enough to cause me to release it.
It falls to the floor, the sound of the metal bouncing across the tile fills the space. As if his touch burns my skin, I tug my arm out of his hold. His dark eyes narrow, and he looks at me like he wants to grab my hand again, but he refrains. Who is he? Why does he want me?
“Please, just let me go, please!” Panic is clawing at my insides.
Something resembling remorse flashes across his face but is soon replaced with an emotionless mask.
“Come, I’ll show you around, and if you behave, I’ll let you go into the library.”
Library? How can he act so normal, like nothing is wrong? Like he isn’t breaking the law? He has got to be out of his damn mind if he thinks I’m following him anywhere.
Lost in my thoughts, I forget he’s standing here, watching me, staring like he can see deep inside my soul. An involuntary shiver ripples down my back.
“You’re insane, psychotic.” I cross my arms over my chest, trying to make myself appear big when I feel like a tiny mouse