yn's

and holding me hostage. But the soft buzzing working its way into the depths of my mind tells

t, at

nt echoes in my ears, making it hard to think straight. I try my best to force my hand up

almost painful. My eyelids feel as though they've been glued shut, keeping me from seeing. But with

n. The sudden intrusion of light hitting my eyes only

wh

ough it's on fire and weigh

op my body up. I blink rapidly to clear my vision and focus on calming my heavy b

he hell

attress beneath me is dirty and has seen better days. What shocks me the most is the thick chain cuffed around my an

osing me to the chill in the air. Out of the corner of my eye, I find

make any sudden movements, whoever brought me here will come barging into the room. The boarded-up window ab

ugh my rib cage. Without so much as moving a muscle, I drag my eyes away from the window to

long legs spread out in front of him. He's so silent as he regards me, his hands clasped together

pine. Just like every other

ir escape. My throat works to relieve the dryness as I swallow hard. I'm unable to take

a whisper. But he heard me. The slight tilt of h

my mind like a home movie, replaying the moment he caught me, his strong arms wrapped t

someone would save me. Anyone. And now I'm here, chained to a

nage to push myself into a seated position, ignoring the way my bones crea

inky curls spilling around from the behind the mask. Waiting. Watching. The silence is

s he wan

hell is

room smells wet like it's been flooded previously and the odor hasn't been removed. It's a vast cont

am

the alleyway, Raya was still on the phone, so I'm sure she has informed Liam about what ha

aring silently at me. The muscles in his biceps flex slightly as if he's clenching his fists momentarily. Despite the sligh

st with each second ticking by without hearing a single word from my kidnapper. "

scenarios happening. This could go either way; I could live,

n't make it

nto my skin from behind the mask. At the sight of the scars on his knuckles-an indicator that he uses his

the latch, and steps through it. When the door closes behind him, I h

to find an escape route. He could come back with a decision about my fate-one that doesn't allow me

hear it from wherever he has gone. I could be locked in a little cabin in the middle of the woods or a basement

anywhere else. But the small give in the chain does allow me to inspect the window above the bed. It's boarded up with old planks

rustration prickling my

masked man entering the room with a tray of food. The scent of cold deli ham wafts through the air, mixing with the damp smell. The odo

rning to stand in front of the closed door. I feel his eyes on me as he

sandwich and bottle of water

me a nod, but the tilt of

ld have slipped some sort of drug into the water crosses my mind. But as much as I would like to deny h

my energy up to have a fighting chance of esca

don't bother inspecting the food before I take a bite. The moment the ham and cheese touch my taste buds, I'm unable to stop myself from taking large

er's intense gaze searing a hole into my

pen to me is a terrifying feeling. He could do whatever he wanted to me in the blink of an eye, and I wouldn't b

erving,

me a stomachache, but it's better than the feeling of being hungry. Even though I'm still thirsty, I know I

ooed arm. Instinct has me scrambling back on the b

is hands. Just when I think he's going to turn around and leave, an unexpected deep

out trying to escape