Chapter 3

I pounded out miles on the treadmill with a vengeance, trying to distract my mind with the exhaustion of lactic acid build up and the endorphins of a runner's high.

I'd reread last night's conversation with Jericho more times than I could count—which was considerably high as someone with a Computer Science degree—and even now that I had my headphones blaring and my lungs burning in my chest, all I could do was keep replaying those words in my head over and over and over again.

I heard a bang from behind me, and my heart stopped for ten beats too long. I looked over my shoulder, to see some dude-bro who had just slammed his weights on the mat. There was no sign of emerald eyes or auburn hair at all .

Another sound of clanking plates on the Lat Pull machine made me jump, and a woman dropping her water bottle had my skin crawling. I was more than just on edge.

He has no way to find me , I kept repeating to myself.

I'd almost considered locking myself in my apartment for a few days, but if he was a stalker, it would be safer to be on the move than to stay in one place. Especially when that sanctuary had my name on the lease. If he'd taken the time to hunt down my full name, he probably also knew where I worked and what suburb I lived in. I'd worked with enough hacker hobbyists in my career to know none of that was a stretch for someone savvy enough. I'd need to be prepared for someone to show up unannounced at my office or tail my car home.

What was wrong with me? I was taking his dumb, childish taunting way too seriously. This was what he wanted. For me to be scared and thinking about him for days. For him to know he'd gotten under my skin, and that he was the center of my anxiety. The chances that I was contacted by a real serial killer with a castle full of sex slaves and a murder maze was so impossible it was comical.

And what was all that dumb shit about monsters? Was that code for something? Maybe he was one of my level designers playing a prank on me.

Actually, that wouldn't surprise me. I still recalled when I started at my first game studio, and the sound engineer hid portable speakers in various places around the office, so he could use his phone to set off a loud dragon's roar every time I entered a room.

The things I laughed at in my early twenties had turned into blatant bullying and a hostile work environment in my late twenties. Now that I was in my mid-thirties, I'd lost all patience for the dumb, immature games. If I found out who was behind this, I could easily make a case for malicious sabotage and a fire-able offense now that I held an executive position

That had to be all this was. Another practical joke. Brad has loved playing pranks on me since we started working together, Justin just received his first formal reprimand for taking unflattering pictures of the only woman in the network engineer cave, and Mike was still bitter that I'd leap frogged him for the Vice President position when Bruce resigned. Any of them were obnoxious enough to pull off an elaborate joke like this.

I kept running, and I kept attempting to convince myself of my own paranoia.

A full hour and 732 calories later, spent and dehydrated, I hopped off the treadmill and headed to the locker room to clean up. I scrolled through my phone and pulled up the conversation again, rereading the last line for the thousandth time.

I'll be picking you up tomorrow. I can't wait for you to join my collection .

I guess if his goal was to get in my head, he got exactly what he wanted. Beating him simply required me to stop thinking about him.

I hopped in the shower and washed away both the sweat and the thoughts of that creep's photo, then I brushed out my hair in the locker room mirror, and dug some clean clothes out of my gym bag. I pulled on a comfortable lace bra, some matching panties, a fitted burgundy v neck t-shirt, and a dark grey A-line skirt that reached mid-thigh. My reflection was of a woman who was adequately cute but casual. Not something I'd wear anywhere near the office, but right now I could let my guard down a bit. I looked good, and it was time I let myself feel good.

How better to get my mind off the woes of online dating than to give up on it entirely. In hopes of meeting someone in the real world who didn't have the anonymity of the internet to send cryptic messages, I made my next stop at a nearby coffee shop, where I hoped I might get lucky enough to meet a real person in real life.

Roast of the Magi was a popular new café in the suburbs, in convenient walking distance from both the gym and my apartment. It was such a relief to have a great cup of coffee after a horrible sleepless night. Not even my pre-workout had been enough to kick start my brain this morning, but a fine Balinese roast always was.

As I walked through the glass doors, I enjoyed a deep, calming inhale through my nose, letting the scent fill me, and I held onto that delicious breath until I couldn't any longer.

The barista handed me a mug for in house customers—coffee always tasted better in porcelain compared to a paper cup, in my opinion—and I settled in at the bar style seating facing the window. The city passed by in front of me, but it seemed much less chaotic when it was silenced by the window glass. A woman walking her dog strolled by, while cars moved slowly in the thick traffic of the morning.

Savoring my first sip, I forced myself to stop scanning every passerby for a glint of sparkling emeralds, and I sank into the pleasantly bitter flavor.

"There's nothing sexier than a woman who takes her coffee black." A masculine voice filled my ears, and my whole body tensed. I turned slowly to face him, then I exhaled when I was met with trim blond hair, a barely-there beard, and brown eyes.

Fucking relax. I chastised myself for the hundredth time that morning.

I'd wanted to be social, thus the whole reason I took a seat at the window bar, and losing my shit every time someone obliged wasn't very conducive to not letting Jericho win.

Especially considering the first person to approach me happened to be an attractive guy somewhere in his thirties or forties, who was wearing a tie on a Saturday no less. I knew I'd made the right move by coming here. This was already better than online dating had ever been.

"Anyone who has to add cream and sugar to their cup probably doesn't actually like coffee." I said with flirty smile and a quick flutter of my eyelashes. See, I'm great at this.

"It helps when those lips already provide all the sweetness you need." He doled out the best pickup line I'd heard in years before he sat beside me, and my whole soul brightened with excitement.

Why had I been wasting time dating the new school way when the old fashioned way still worked so well? My mood lifted, and I was happy to engage.

We'd settled into the small talk of "where are you from? and "what do you do?" when my phone vibrated loudly on the table beside me.

I groaned and held up a finger to ask him for a moment. "One second, it's probably work."

"On a Saturday?" He asked with a chuckle. "I know how that goes." The fact that he understood instead of complaining about the interruption added another point to his hotness quotient.

"This is the first Saturday I've had off in a month." I spoke idly as I unlocked the home screen. It figured that there would be some sudden emergency that just had to be handled on the weekend. This wouldn't be the first time an overnight build or a bad patch fucked everything up, and considering Eugene had planned to go to the office today, it was a pretty safe bet that it was a programmer in panic mode.

I would have preferred that. But the number in my notifications was unknown.

The actual sender, however, was not.

Jericho: You look positively adorable. I might have suggested a more durable outfit for my maze, but the short skirt should be much more fun.

The small, scared, startled whimper I heard must have come from me, because the guy at my side started asking if everything was okay. I didn't have the mental capacity to answer or acknowledge him, as I furiously typed into my text box.

Me: How did you get this number? Where the fuck are you?

My eyes darted around the coffee shop, then shot to the outside street, scanning every driver in every car, every construction worker, dog walker, and pedestrian. None of them looked like the picture I'd seen.

He wasn't out there.

Jericho: He's not your boyfriend, is he? Do I need to remove him first, or will you be able to pry yourself away from his mediocrity for long enough to play with your king?

Me: Neither. Because I already said no. I'm not playing with you, and you're going to leave me the fuck alone.

Jericho: The hard to get act is cute, but it's not remotely believable.

Cocky asshole.

Me: It's amazing how you're so confident that you're God's gift to women, and yet you're over here begging me to give you the time of day. Why don't you go stalk some girl who actually wants you?

I spoke with much more boldness than I felt.

Jericho: Oh, Fraulein, you misunderstand me terribly. I'm not a god's gift to women. YOU are a god's gift to me . Quite literally, actually. And what a gift you are. I can't wait to see that feisty attitude get humbled.

Me: Leave. Me. Alone.

He ignored my demand and carried on.

Jericho: Are you almost done with your little distraction? I'm growing impatient.

Before I could send back another angry response, a picture pinged my inbox. Jericho sent me a selfie in an eerily familiar, dimly lit room, with his green eyes sparkling front and center, his auburn hair falling around his face…

And my treacherous little Pumpkin curled up on his lap .

"Fucking piece of shit!" I shouted as I immediately stood from my seat. My new friend blinked at me in confusion, and I didn't have time to explain. I abandoned the coffee shop as quickly as the next picture could load on my phone, depicting Jericho's forest green nails scratching Pumpkin's fluffy chin. My cat's eyes were half lidded, like he was falling asleep when he was supposed to be murdering the intruder, and that had me in a full, enraged sprint for home.

Me: If you harm a single hair on Pumpkin's fucking head, I swear I will gut you with a goddamn shovel.

Jericho: That's quite the visual, Fraulein. I knew you were my kind of woman.

What a stupid fucking nickname.

Me: Stop calling me that.

Jericho: Fraulein? Or my kind of woman? I won't stop calling you either, but just clarifying so I know which ruffles your feathers the most efficiently.

Me: You're insufferable. Who the hell are you and what do you want? If this is a joke, I'm not laughing.

I was still another block from home, and then I had to get to the tenth floor. This officially ruled out any hope that this was one of my coworkers playing a malicious prank on me.

Jericho: I already told you. Are you really so used to being lied to that you can't even recognize an honest confession? I'm the King, and you, my lovely little puppet, are my chosen tribute. Your denial doesn't change reality. But if you're going to continue to be so, so stubborn about this ordeal, I have no choice but to give you some motivation.

Jericho sent a video this time. I hit play as I entered the door to my apartment building. Pumpkin, that evil little cheese puff, was purring as he put his paw's on Jericho's chest and rubbed his head against that bastard's cheek.

My cat was putting his scent on this guy?

The video only got worse, as Jericho hugged my fluffle-nut and scratched his belly.

My mouth fell open as the elevator chimed. Pumpkin never even lets me rub his belly. WHAT IN THE ACTUAL FUCK, PUMPKIN.

Now I wanted to strangle them both.

Jericho: He likes me.

Of course he does. Next time I'm getting a female cat.

Me: I swear to fucking god, Jericho.

Jericho: Don't swear to him, Love. He's the one who got you here.

This stupid old elevator couldn't climb floors fast enough, and I stared furiously at my messages the whole way up.

Jericho: Since I already explained the maze, let me give you a quick rundown of how this little development is going to work. I'm going to take your cat. You are going to enter my realm. And if you want this sweet little thing back, you're going to play my game, by my rules, to my satisfaction. Find your way through in seventy-two hours, or I'll be keeping you both. Simple, right?

Jericho: Now one more chance: any final questions ?

Me: All I want to know is where you got all of that audacity.

Jericho: Some gifts can't be bought, my dear.

I'd never heard him speak, and yet I could vividly imagine the asshole chuckling as he sent that.

The elevator opened on the tenth floor, and I darted into the hall. I was digging for my keys while in a full sprint, and I practically skidded to a stop when I arrived at unit 1072. My hands were shaking as I shoved the key into the lock, and adrenaline consumed my entire body as I grabbed hold of the knob. I threw open the door, just in time to get shoved back against the opposite wall with a hand against my chest.

I opened my mouth to scream, only to have it covered by a soft silk cloth. The sweet aroma hit my nostrils, my vision blurred, and my consciousness rapidly faded.

And fuck, those emerald eyes were even more striking in person.