Chapter 6

He’s sogentle compared to how he was with me earlier. I don’t know how to take this man. I thought women were the only ones to do it for me. The only ones that could get me this hot and bothered. He’s breaking down every barrier I’ve ever put in place.

When he was dragging his fingers through my tangles, soaping me up and lathering the suds all over my body, I felt tingles at his touch. I’ve never felt this way before, and I can’t seem to control my body’s reaction to his touches.

This is honestly insane. I need to knock some sense into my head and stop falling for this guy. He kidnapped me for Christ’s sake. Get it together, Skylar. I’m going to have to talk to him and convince him to let me leave.

Nicci’s probably worried sick over me—or maybe not if she found some guy to run off with. I get a little sad at the thought of it and try to push it away. Stop thinking negative thoughts. It’s not helping your situation.

I do need to talk to him and see where his head is at. It’s not like I can just leave. I’m trapped here or so he says. I’ll make a mental note to investigate the door and the windows tomorrow. He seems fragile and broken. Maybe, just maybe I can convince him to let me go. And hopefully I don’t fall for him in the process. I have to stick to my head and not let my traitorous body fail me.

“Okay, I’m back!” Nearly making me jump out of my skin and losing all train of thought. He hops in bed with me and curls my body close to his. “We fit perfectly together.”

I can feel his length pressing into my back and a heat builds inside of me. His breath on my ear tickling my hair. I can’t do this right now. I need to sleep. Forcing my body and mind to work together, I close my eyes and drift off to sleep.

***

Shouting voices. That’s what I hear when I wake up surrounded with pitch black space as if my eyes aren’t even open. My heart races until I remember where I am. My eyes are accommodating to the dark, and I can see everything in a gray haze. Still not a good place to be, but it could always be worse, I think. Right? Gotta stay positive.

I feel the space next to me. It’s cold and I realize Alex is gone. Who could he be yelling at, at this time of the night? I thought we were alone in the house. He was acting weird earlier, talking to himself. Maybe that’s his thing. I get the voices in your head. I feel like mine are overwhelming at times, but I’ve never actually yelled at them. Not out loud anyway.

I get out of bed slowly, trying to lightly slide out and creep around the bed. The floors are cold on my bare feet. I wish he would have given me socks to go along with his shirt and these hand-sewn shorts. They’re a tight fit, but at least they have some stretch to them.

I step one foot in front of the other watching out for the boards that look a little worse for wear. I don’t want the floorboards to creak and alert him to the fact that I’m awake. I’m hoping I can see who he’s talking to. Creeping up to the doorway, I look out into the hallway checking to see if the coast is clear of him. Trying to discern where he might be, I listen to find where his voice is coming from. It sounds like it’s coming from the third floor.

I have half a mind to test him on whether the front door is really locked, and if there are bars on all the windows, but my curiosity wins out. I tiptoe toward the set of stairs that leads to the third floor.

I wonder what’s up there. It’s not like he gave me a welcome tour of the place.

Walking toward the end of the hall, I notice that it’s dustier on this end. A few footprints leading up the stairs and a set leading to the door behind the staircase. Interesting. I’ll file that away for later, but first I have to know who he’s talking to.

I make it to the set of stairs going up to the next floor, and it’s so cold here. I put my hand on the railing, which is covered in dust. Ekkk, gross, I shouldn’t have touched that.

Okay, breathe. One step at a time. You got this.

Slowly, I lift my foot up to the first step. No creak. I let out a breath. That’s good. I try the next step then the next. Making my way up successfully. All my focus was on my footing that I didn’t even realize how silent it was. I freeze, eyes still on my feet. I slowly look up to the top of the stairs. Breathing out another sigh of relief when there’s no one there. I continue on my ascent. Determined to find a piece of the puzzle to this man.

Getting lost in my thoughts, I quit focusing on my footing. Which is a bad idea. When a loud creak fills the air space, I freeze and feel my teeth grinding so hard they feel as if they might break. Did he hear that? That’s when I hear it. The footsteps pounding from the floor above. Oh no.

Fight or flight. My body is so tense I can’t move. His steps sound furious and I begin to wonder if I’m thinking too much into it. I’m quickly corrected when I see him at the top of the stairs. The look on his face says it all, and he’s bounding down the stairs at me.

I’m quickly stepping back from him when I lose my footing and feel as if I’m falling. A strong hold wraps around my wrist and yanks me up. Face to face with Alex, his face is red in a scowl and his pupil’s completely eclipsing his one good eye. He is furious. I can imagine smoke coming off him. He’s holding my wrists so hard I can feel the bones grinding together.

“Ow,” I whimper in his hold. He proceeds to pull me down the stairs. “I’m sorry, okay, you were gone and I ... I couldn’t find you.”

He whirls on me with teeth bared. “Never go up those stairs. NEVER! You hear me? Do you hear me, Skylar?”

“Yes. Yes, I hear you.” I try yanking my wrist out of his hold but it’s no use. “Will you please let go of my wrist? You’re hurting me.”

He ignores me and continues to drag me down the hall back toward his room. Passing by the empty rooms, I catch a shadowy figure of a man. An audible gasp escapes my mouth, unsuccessfully trying to hold it in with my hand. Alex pays no mind and continues to pull me forward.

“Keep moving,” he growls out.

It was just a trick of the eye. That’s all it was. Your mind is playing tricks on you. The adrenaline coursing through me has me on high alert. It has me seeing things that aren’t there. That’s all.

When we reach his bedroom door, he opens it and throws me in, making me land on my hands and knees. I hear the door shut and a lock click in place. Instant panic surges in me, and I run to the door banging on it with all my might.

“Hey. You can’t do this. Please,” I’m screaming and begging. I pound on the door with my fists until they ache. Trying one last time, I let out a pitiful plea, “Please let me go.” I turn my back, leaning on the door and sliding down to sit on the floor.

What do I do now? The window. I never checked the window. I proceed to run over to it. I can’t see out of the window for any bars. The window’s so dirty it’s hard to see through it. So I begin checking the seam. There are nails driven into the lift running into the stool. One nail has enough room for me to grab hold of it, and I pull it with my fingertips. My fingers slip. Screaming, I pound on the window with my fist in defeat. Blood is running down my fingers, I push them into my mouth trying to stop the bleeding.

Nothing is happening tonight. I need to save my energy. Rest up and plan. I move to the bed and lay down staring up to the ceiling. Praying sleep will take me soon.