Chapter 5

Chapter Five

CARA

T hat fucker drugged me.

He fucking drugged me.

I passed out for who knows how long, and woke up to the sound of him pulling into my driveway on his motorcycle. That was at least a few hours ago and now the sun's rising. I can't see outside, but I can see small rays of sunlight peeking through the boarded up windows.

It's exhausting to no longer know what day it is. He's in complete control of everything I eat. Of everything I drink. Every time I'm allowed to get up and use the bathroom. He lets me go when I ask, but every time I feel the urge, I'm reminded of our encounter in the corn field when he caught me squatting over uneven rows of dirt. I'm sure I'll be diagnosed with PTSD when all of this is over.

If all of this comes to an end and I make it out of this alive.

It has to, right? Surely he hasn't been feeding me three meals a day just to kill me later. He has my entire house on lockdown. Every door. Every window. Every possible escape route.

But I've been working to free my hand from the cuff chaining me to my bed. Little by little, I've used my saliva as lubricant to wriggle the metal loop over my hand. It's almost there. It fucking hurts as it clamps down on my bones, grinding against them and shredding my skin with each push.

Rhett left my bedroom door open to watch me from across the hallway as he set up various computer monitors and cameras at his makeshift desk in my guest room. He made himself at home almost immediately after Halloween night, only adding to it since then. Clothes, surveillance equipment, and technology I can't identify all came with him. I watched his eyes flutter closed not long ago, and he's passed out over the desk now, head resting over his arms while he snores lightly, completely unaware of the progress I've made toward my escape.

I don't know how much more spit I can make, but I try for one more wad, balling it in my mouth before leaning over my hand and letting it drip between the metal cuff and my opening flesh. The warm, thick liquid stings as it spreads, but I bite back the pain. Once it's thoroughly coated and as good as I'm going to get it, I pinch my fingers together to narrow the bones of my hand as much as I can, and then I use my other hand to pull at the cuff. Silent tears fall from the corners of my eyes as the pain rips through me. My skin splits even more, and it bundles up like an accordion when the cuff finally gives. Sweat is pouring from me. The mixture of pure agony and adrenaline are pushing me through, and once I realize I'm free, my eyes dart toward where Rhett sleeps at the desk.

He hasn't moved. He has no idea I'm no longer bound to this bed by his shackles.

And now I need to slip past him.

I quietly throw my legs over the side of the bed, pushing myself toward the edge and dangling my feet just above the floor.

This house is old. Really fucking old. And I already know each step will be met with a creak. Getting past him without waking him will be difficult, but he was up all night and should be sleeping decently hard by now. The steady rhythm of his breathing tells me he's in a deep sleep, which gives me the best chance of slipping past him. If I can just get down the hall, my chances of finding freedom are exponentially higher.

The wooden floor is icy against my feet as I rise from the bed. My knees crack in unison with the floor, making me wince when the sound hits my ears. I immediately look to Rhett, who still hasn't moved. A soft sigh slips through my lips, and I muster up the courage to take the first few steps.

As expected, my old house groans as my bare feet pad across the floors. I hover in the doorway when I reach it, taking a moment to watch Rhett.

Still no movement.

Biting at the inside of my cheek, I hold my breath when I pass through the doorway. I almost lose my balance and fall when I let myself get too distracted by watching Rhett rather than the way my legs move around the turn.

"Fuck," I mouth to myself without making a sound.

Sweat continues pouring out of me. I'm almost there.

My heart stops beating and my entire body freezes when Rhett shifts in his chair, grunting and grumbling nonsense in his sleep. I close my eyes, placing my hand over my chest as I realize he's just dreaming, and I continue my trail of soft creaking noises down the hallway.

When I make it to the stairs I pick up the pace, scrambling to get to the bottom of the stairs as quickly and quietly as I can. The stairs groan the entire way down, but I keep going. The front door is just around the corner by the time I hit the bottom, and I'm sprinting toward it.

My heart drops into my stomach when I see just how many locks Rhett has installed on the door.

There's at least a dozen, and they're all different kinds. He did this on purpose. He knew it'd slow me down if this ever happened.

I have to stay focused. Now isn't the time to lose control and freak out.

My fingers shake as I begin working the locks. The spot on my hand where my skin tore is on fire, burning as I desperately try to push the pain to the back of my mind. Each lock feels like an eternity as I undo it, twisting and turning my hand in different directions.

I'm on the second to last latch when I hear Rhett's boots upstairs.

My knees buckle and I almost go down in a panic, but I force myself to stay upright.

Rhett's voice erupts with a feral roar from the floor above me. "CARA!"

The last lock is at my fingertips now, and I'm sliding the deadbolt when his feet hit the top step. He's descending them rapidly, and I can tell he's not taking them one at a time, but likely two or three with each stride.

I cry out as the final lock pops, and I swing the door, frantically running through it before it's fully open. The sun is bright as I step outside, making me squint as I run toward the front yard, dazed and confused. My ankle gives out when I go over the top of the stairs, causing me to fall all the way to the bottom.

Daring to take a glance behind me, I find Rhett bursting through the doorway, a feral look in his eyes.

Pushing myself up with my hands, I look around me, searching for anyone who can help me. To my immediate disappointment, the only person I find is Jim, the one person who hates me more than I hate myself right now.

He's staring at me as he waters his pots of flowers with his dog Gary lazily laying by his feet.

"Help me," I call out, raising my hand toward him.

Jim's face twists a little as he watches me, trying to figure out what I'm doing.

Rhett's on me now, and he's dragging me to my feet. Those big, calloused hands are wrapped around me like tight clamps, cutting off the circulation in my arms.

"Help me," I cry out again, begging more this time. "Please!"

Gary stands and begins barking at us. Something in me tells me he's not barking because he sees Rhett man-handling me, but because he wants us to go away.

Jim glances down at Gary, and then to the decorations still scattered throughout my yard several days after Halloween. Those dark, lifeless eyes linger on the decorations for far too long, and he doesn't say anything when his eyes finally return to us. A wicked grin spreads across his face as he raises his hose to the next pot of flowers, turning his attention the other way.

We're at the bottom of the stairs now, and Rhett is pulling me up them. Rather, dragging me up them.

"HELP!" I scream, desperate to get away before he gets me back inside.

Jim continues ignoring me, acting as though my entire world isn't up in flames right now.

"Be quiet," Rhett snaps, throwing his hand over my mouth when I start yelling at the top of my lungs. "Shut the fuck up or they'll hear you and take you away from me."

My eyes snap to him and I glare. That's what I fucking want to happen. I keep forgetting how delusional this man really is.

I bite down on his hand, making him jerk back when my teeth break his skin.

"HELP!" I cry out again while kicking and clawing at Rhett.

He's so much bigger than I am, completely unphased by my pathetic attempt at retaliation. He's in full control and has been since the second we locked eyes at Rustic Roast. Tears stream down the sides of my face as I accept defeat.

The front door is still open, and Rhett easily pulls me through it. Once inside, he slams it shut with his foot. The walls rattle with how hard he closed it.

Rhett picks me up, throwing my entire body onto my L-shaped couch. I land with a soft thud, then use my elbows to scramble backwards until I hit the back of the couch.

"Just fucking kill me," I spit, fire in my eyes. "Don't torture me like this. Just kill me!"

A low, throaty laugh erupts from Rhett as he stalks toward me. "Kill you?" he smiles and tsks. "No. I intend to keep you, Cara."

I shake my head, whimpering when the front of his knees hit the couch. "No."

Rhett watches me for a moment, and I know he's enjoying watching me squirm beneath his power. His eyes are dark, engulfed in rage.

"You know I have to punish you for what you've done." My lips part as I inhale, shaking as he places his hands on both sides of me. "You've been behaving badly, little nightmare."

The nickname rattles through me.

"I'm not the nightmare," I suggest, my voice barely above a whisper, raising my chin to meet his gaze.

A sly smile tilts the corner of his mouth upward, and he sucks his bottom lip between his teeth.

"Aren't you?" he cocks an eyebrow. "You've kept me up every night since the moment I laid eyes on you. Your tight cunt calls to me, drawing me in and swallowing me whole while I lose myself inside of you. You've wrapped your spell around me so tightly that I feel like I'm drowning."

My head jerks back as the words leave his lips.

This is my doing?

Rhett continues when I'm too lost in thought to respond. "Lean back."

"What are you doing?" I ask, my eyes widening when he hooks his fingers around my panties, stripping them off of me in one motion, then stuffing them in his pocket.

His hungry eyes flicker between my bare pussy and my face. "Punishing you."

I don't hold back my frustration when I blurt, "For what? Trying to get the fuck away from you?"

His expression hardens and his lips thin. "You're never getting away from me," he pauses, falling to his knees before me. "And now you'll be punished for what you've done to us."

In the back of my mind, I'm wondering if Jim finally went back inside and is calling the police, but the reality is, I know he's not. He doesn't give a fuck about me. He'd love to see me dead, and if given the right opportunity, he'd probably assist Rhett in my murder.

My heart starts pounding harder when Rhett leans in with his eyes locked on mine. He slides his tongue over my center in one quick swipe, then moans. My entire body shivers, jolting at his touch.

"You taste so fucking good," he says as his eyes flutter.

He goes in for another taste, this time using his hands to pin my legs down, widening them. His tongue laps at my pussy, devouring it as he buries himself between my legs. When I don't give him the reaction he's looking for, he pulls back and then blows soft, cool puffs of air over my wet clit. The act sends chills down my spine, forcing goosebumps to the surface of my skin. He sees them and lets out a low chuckle.

We've been eye-fucking each other for days as he's kept me pinned to the bed, but he hasn't touched me again until now. Something inside him snapped when I almost got away, like I broke off a tiny piece of his control and this is his retaliation.

My punishment.

Is it more for him, or for me? I'm not sure he knows.

Rhett's mouth closes around my clit, instantly warming it. A traitorous moan slips through my lips and my back involuntarily arches. In response, he eats me harder, shaking his head back and forth while his tongue strokes me.

Glancing down, I almost fall apart at the sight of him tongue-deep in my pussy, consuming me with his entire presence. He's still watching me, never letting his eyes drift from mine. My hands move to his hair, pulling his mouth into me and giving me a firmer pressure.

One of his hands moves from my leg, trailing its way up to my pussy. The tips of his fingers swirl around in my arousal before he slips one inside of me, making me cry out in pleasure.

I shouldn't be enjoying this. I should be focusing on trying to get the fuck away from him, but instead I'm letting him eat me out like I hadn't just made a mad dash for my life, screaming at my piece of shit neighbor for help.

He dominates me, drawing an orgasm to the surface so quickly I can barely breathe.

Just as I'm about to cum, he pulls back, slapping his hand down on my pussy and ending the incoming orgasm before it has the opportunity to begin.

"What the fuck?" I huff, sitting up and closing my legs as he rises to his feet with the biggest smile plastered across his devastatingly sexy face.

"I told you this was a punishment, little nightmare. Why would I allow you the pleasure of coming?"

"You're a prick."

That makes his dark eyes lighten a tad as his smile widens. "I'd never claim to be anything else."

A mixture of emotions stir through me. Confusion, sadness, arousal, and… happiness? I don't know. There's no reason I should be feeling even remotely happy right now, but the way he looks at me drives something out of me. It pulls on my heart strings and makes me want to know more about the man who hid behind the mask to catch me.