His Captive: A Revenge Marriage Romance Page 3

  “He works for his family’s business,” she begins.

  “Doing what?” I want to know.

  Ann-Marie huffs, exasperated by the line of questioning.

  “He’s in finance or something. He just graduated from college and is getting settled into the role.”

  Well, at least he works. That much is comforting. Still, I need to know more. She claims this Chance guy is rich. But how? Was he born into wealth or is he some type of prodigy who invented the internet?

  “What’s the family business?” I ask casually, grabbing a worn kitchen towel. “Anything I would recognize?”

  She scoffs in her throat as if to say, “Yeah, right.”

  I begin wiping down the counter out of habit, my expression smooth.

  “No, you wouldn’t know,” she snarks. “Jeez, Anna, so nosy, just like always.”

  But the better question is if she even knows what her fiancé does. I’m going to venture to say that she has no idea because if it were some million dollar company, Ann-Marie wouldn’t hesitate to rub it in my face.

  I sigh again. Unbelievable. My sister really knows nothing about him.

  This marriage sure does have a strong foundation: one airhead model and probably some wide-eyed trust fund baby.

  My sarcastic thoughts can’t be helped when I think about the bomb she’s just dropped.

  Ann-Marie and marriage don’t belong in the same sentence. At least not right now. She’s still a baby. At eighteen she should be enjoying her youth, carefree with no responsibilities, not seducing a man into marrying her.

  Jesus Christ.

  As tough as she is to live with and take care of, I don’t want her to marry on a whim to start a life with some random dude.

  “Are you planning on a long engagement?” I ask carefully. Again, better not to poke the bear.

  “No,” her answer is succinct, leading me to suspect that she’s tired of my never-ending questions.

  “What about his family? Are you going to meet his parents any time soon? And what about me? When do I get to meet my future brother-in-law?”

  Ann-Marie’s face goes dim. She looks at me, annoyed, that perfect nose scrunched up.

  “What the hell is this Anna, twenty-one fucking questions?”

  I knew this was coming. It’s too late now. Goodbye joyful Ann-Marie. Hello, my outraged old friend.

  “I’m sorry if I’m overwhelming,” I say carefully. “But I just want to make sure we’re being as thorough as possible here. This is a huge leap. Just yesterday you were single and less than a day later, you’re telling me that’s all changed. As your sister, I’m concerned. I only want the best for you, Ann-Marie.”

  My words are sincere and full of caring, but of course my sister’s already gone over the edge.

  “That’s a load of shit and you know it,” she says rolling those big, blue eyes at me.

  “It’s true,” I insist, still wiping away at some invisible spot on the counter.

  Fire flashes in her eyes suddenly and I know it’s over now. She turns on me nastily.

  “Damnit, Anna! Why can’t you just say congratulations and move on? Would it kill you to be happy for me for once? Not everyone is content to be alone and boring like you. That’s probably why you’re so against it. You want me to stay in this cramped apartment with you and do nothing with my life.”

  So. Not. True.

  “You’re such a lump on a log that you don’t get it,” she snaps furiously. “So what if this is unconventional? We’re in love and getting married, full stop. You’re so critical all the time, can’t you be happy for once?”

  The acid hits me in the face, making me flinch, but I maintain my calm on the outside. Inside, I want to crumple because maybe, just maybe, she’s right. Words fly in a fury from her mouth now, each one like a stinging slap to the face.

  “That’s exactly why no one asks you out. You’re too boring and by the book. So what the hell could you possibly tell me about love?”

  My soul deflates, but I can’t let her know. I can’t let my sister know how much she’s hurt me, so I look down at my watch, eyes blurring with tears. Is she right? Am I really a boring-ass old lady, already dead by the ripe old age of twenty? I swallow hard, still not looking up, before taking another deep breath.

  “Fine, it’s fine,” I say, keeping my voice calm. “We’ll talk about it when I get back okay? I have to work, but we’ll talk about it after work later tonight.”

  Ann-Marie doesn’t even look at me, turning away haughtily, nose in the air.

  “This is exactly what I mean, Anna. It’s Saturday. Duh. It’s the weekend, and yet you’re working. No wonder no one wants you.”

  The words are like a knife to my heart but the truth is, I have to go in. I support us, I pay the rent on the apartment. If the boss says there’s an emergency, I have to show up or lose my job

  But there’s no way to explain this to my sister, and besides, she wouldn’t understand.

  “We’ll talk again when I get back,” I say once more. “Don’t do anything dumb okay? Just hang tight, we’ll talk when I get back.”

  And even though she doesn’t acknowledge me, I know my sister hears. So I step outside, shutting the door quietly. And once I’m about twenty feet away, my feet stop so that I can take a deep breath.

  God, what’s going on? My baby sister wants to get married to some dude she just met? I bet she doesn’t even know her supposed fiancé’s real name, not that that would bother her. He could be anyone, he could be a scammer, a criminal, or some dirty old dude who just wants a sex slave.

  But there’s nothing I can do about it right now, so taking another deep breath, I start walking. The streets are practically empty and I assume that people in the neighborhood are tucked inside the safety of their homes luxuriating in the laziness of a Saturday morning.

  We can’t all be so lucky.

  Sucking it up, I grip the strap of my purse tighter and settle in for a walk. Normally, the bus would be my thing, but it only comes once an hour on weekends, so my own two feet it is. Besides, a nice, brisk walk might be just what I need. Any encounter with my sister is crazy and exhausting, and hopefully the stroll will help me get my act together for a long workday ahead.

  On the sidewalk, I round the corner and begin trudging north towards Copperstein, Marshall and Leigh. There’s no one around, it’s a Saturday after all, and we don’t exactly live in a safe part of town. On my salary, we’re already barely scraping by as is, so our neighborhood is gritty and grey, the sidewalks crumbling, grass popping out from between cracks in the concrete.

  But still, the air is relatively fresh and I take a deep breath, expanding my lungs, trying to shake away Ann-Marie’s issues. I can’t show up at the office already aggravated, it’d be a bad start to the day.

  And at that moment, an unfamiliar black car creeps up the street at a slow crawl. The vehicle seems to have appeared from thin air, rounding the corner out of nowhere.

  That’s weird. It’s almost like the car is casing me. There’s a dark figure at the wheel, but I can’t see what they look like despite squinting.

  Putting my head down, I keep walking and try to focus on something else. The last thing I need is another item on my list of crap.

  Maybe the person is just new to the neighborhood and decided to take a ride to learn his or her new surroundings. Maybe they’re lost and are driving aimlessly, trying to find their way back. Whatever it is, I pick up the pace, gripping my purse strap tighter.

  But then the car speeds up, making my nerves prickle.

  You’re being paranoid, Anna, the voice in my head says. You’re just riled up from this morning’s fight with Ann-Marie. You’re fine.

  Suddenly, the driver comes to a screeching halt behind me. Maybe they’re going to ask for directions? But instead, someone jumps out of the car.

  Shit.

  Spinning quickly, I begin to run, but it’s too late. A few, calculated strides are all it takes for the
m to catch up with me.

  There’s a dark presence near my back and chills erupt over my spine. Again, I try to get away but this time my wrists are seized before I can take a full step.

  “Let me go!” I demand vehemently, panicky and paranoid. “Don’t touch me!”

  My heart slams furiously against my chest.

  Behind me, someone reaches around to fasten a gag just as I open my mouth to let out an earsplitting scream.

  I still attempt to yell even though the sound is muffled by a rag covering my mouth. Terror pumps through my veins as my arms flail trying to hit something.

  But it doesn’t work. The person behind me is much bigger. At least twice my size, and they’re clearly prepared for a struggle.

  I’m not even able to turn my head and get a look at the person’s face because he shoves my head forward forcibly every time I try.

  Somehow, I know it’s a man. There’s no other explanation for the brute force holding me in check every time I try to break free. And as if to confirm this, my captor swears harshly under his breath as I continue to struggle against his hold.

  His deep voice comes out as an aggravated rumble.

  “Hold still, bitch.”

  With my arms pinned to my side and my back pressed flush against his chest, he begins walking back to the car he abandoned a little further down the street.

  The man makes quick work of dragging me the entire way, my feet dangling precariously above the concrete sidewalk because he’s lifted me off the ground. I feel tiny pulled against him, like a limp rag doll.

  When we get to the car, he drops me to my feet and I stumble forward almost hitting my head against the rising hunk of metal.

  Dread seizes me and vomit rises in my throat, thick and ugly.

  There are absolutely no other pedestrians or cars on the street to witness my horrendous predicament.

  Oh my god.

  I’m being kidnapped.

  But why? Who could possibly want me?

  With the trunk fully open, my captor gives me a slight shove. But I’ve planted my feet on the street, still clinging to my last ounce of freedom.

  When I don’t budge, the man pushes me forward with a force I can’t match until I fall into the trunk, my head hitting the bottom with a hard thunk. Ouch! The pain makes me see stars, but I try to roll over quickly. Maybe I can somehow get out of here.

  No such luck.

  There’s a quick glimpse of black jeans and heavy boots before the trunk slams closed and I’m left alone inside the dark confines, shaking with complete and total fear.

  Where is he taking me?

  What did I do?

  Who’s responsible for this?

  So many questions swirl in my head, making me dizzy with confusion and terror. But then the car dips under the driver’s weight and zooms off from the curb, throwing me around inside.

  This can’t be happening.

  I’m being kidnapped.

  Help!

  CHAPTER THREE

  Anna

  As the car moves, I squirm and thrash around in the back of the trunk. My eyes haven’t adjusted to the total darkness and the blackness is blinding.

  Still maintaining hope, I bang my balled fists repeatedly against the trunk. Hoping someone will hear me, my feet join the effort and I start kicking like a madwoman. But it’s real hard. After a few minutes, my energy is nearly zapped and my knuckles are sore and raw from the repeated beating. Oh god, what’s going on?

  As my adrenaline goes down, I realize for the first time that it’s freezing back here and my body begins shivering involuntarily, teeth chattering as I rub my arms furiously in the small space. Does this guy want to kill me? What does he want, period?

  At least the gag isn’t too tight nor does it appear to be coated in any type of substance to make me lose consciousness. Thank god, I don’t know what I’d do if I were knocked out and drugged. Even the thought of illicit chemical substances makes my body shake with fear.

  What in the world is going on? What did I do to deserve this? Why would someone attack me out of nowhere?

  But the thing is this wasn’t a random attack. There was the dark car that trailed me, the one that followed me on my walk. And it seemed like he knew where I was going, appearing and then disappearing in the corner of my eye. What the hell? My mind spins furiously.

  But after a while, I lose track of time. A dull ache forms at my temples and eventually, I doze off to sleep after what feels like hours, bouncing and jouncing in the back of the car. Oh god, please let me survive this nightmare. Please, god, please, just let me survive and I’ll do anything you ask. I’ll be nice to Ann-Marie, I’ll work harder at my job, I’ll even volunteer in my spare time if that’s what it takes. Please, god, please …

  ****

  Teeth chattering, I’m jolted awake. The car’s still moving but the air around me has dropped in temperature. It’s freezing and this time, my shivers are more like full-body shakes, chilled to the bone.

  Usually, I can count of my extra body weight to generate heat and keep me warm, but today my fluff offers absolutely no relief. It’s as if my body has shut down completely, refusing to help.

  Plus, my headache is worse than when I went to sleep. The dull ache has progressed into a full-on throb across the front of my forehead, the pain causing me to wince even in the darkness of the frigid trunk. Oh god, I’m losing it and my body no longer knows up from down or hot from cold.

  But from the smooth rumble of the car, we have to be on the highway. I can’t remember anything except being hauled into the trunk, and then the metal slamming down. Did we go right? Turn left? Swerve in a U? Unfortunately, it’s all blurred together.

  Trying to make the best of my situation, I struggle to stay calm. What is there to keep me sane? Ah ha, my favorite day dream, a boyfriend. Or more accurately, a book boyfriend. I concentrate on imagining a handsome alpha prince, a man so devastatingly charming that I can’t help but fall head over heels in love. He’s got blue eyes and black hair, and a wicked body, one that makes me salivate, nips going hard as my insides go weak. That’s right. If I could only find him from the back of this car, while locked in the trunk. Oh god, oh god.

  But the voice in me tells me to stay strong. Calm down, Anna, it soothes. This is all gonna come to an end, sooner or later. He has to let you out of here at some point.

  I take a deep breath, focusing on Mr. White Knight once again. Because people are always praising the wondrous powers of positive thinking, right? It’s at least worth a stab in the dark.

  So closing my eyes, I will my mind to conjure up more of the dark prince, with the hard muscled chest, the line of his vee leading to a huge, dripping cock. Oh yeah, that cock is gonna keep me alive, it’s going to help me focus and stay calm.

  Bobbling in my fantasy, I hum to myself, dreaming of the prince. Hours seem to pass as the man continues to drive, and blearily, I note that he hasn’t once stopped for gas. Maybe he did while I was asleep? Or maybe we haven’t been driving for as long as I think, maybe I’m just going insane in captivity.

  Take a deep breath, the voice in my head chimes. Think, Anna, think! What do you remember? What did you see about him?

  But all that comes to me is that deep, dark voice.

  Hold still, bitch.

  The words echo in my mind, but they don’t scare me for some reason. The voice was low, commanding and rough, but it wasn’t mean. It was sexy in its own way.

  You’re crazy, the voice in my head screams this time. You’re absolutely nuts, Anna! He called you a bitch! What is this, some kind of weird Stockholm syndrome, where prisoners fall in love with their captors?

  But the thing is I hadn’t been scared. There was something about that deep rumble and the strong arms that held me tight. Sure, they manhandled me into the trunk, but it wasn’t a rough shove, it was more of an urgent push, movements that made sure I was comfortable and safe even though I was being kidnapped.

  Do you hear yourself
? My mind screamed again. You’ve been abducted for crying out loud! There’s nothing comfortable and safe about being kidnapped!

  That was true because the trunk of this car was effing cold, and I shivered painfully again. Oh god, oh god, it had to be night time now. We had to be going on at least ten hours of driving, and I pounded again the trunk above me again, but it was no use. We were speeding along, and there was no one to hear. Instead, my mind went crazy with wild thoughts.

  Who hired him to kidnap me?

  Why would someone do this?

  What’s so special about me?

  Drawing a blank, I can’t think of a single person who would want this. No one has a motive to take me. There are no enemies that I can name, no one who hates my guts to this level.

  Why would he do this?

  Truly confused, I don’t understand what’s going on.

  None of it makes an ounce of sense.

  Plus, this all happened in broad daylight right outside the place I call home.

  Would anyone even notice I was gone? Would there be a missing person’s report filed?

  My thoughts wander to Ann-Marie and I know that she certainly won’t think twice about my absence. She likely won’t even notice until a bill goes unpaid or there’s an eviction notice plastered on the front door.

  Hopefully, I won’t be gone that long.

  If I can just talk some sense into this man, maybe he’ll let me go. It’s a long shot, but I have to cling to some sliver of hope. Maybe I have something to offer him, but what? My curvy body? Would he even be into that? Or some secretarial work? Oh god, I’m making no sense and give up, curling into a ball once more.

  Later, the ride turns bumpy as the car slows and starts covering rougher territory. The tires dip and the vehicle jostles and I hold myself as still as possible to prevent from flying into something. This rough terrain is no joke and we drive over it for at least twenty minutes, if not more.

  Finally, the car comes to a stop with an unwelcome jolt. Unprepared for the sudden movement, my body is thrown against the front wall of the trunk and I bump my forehead hard. Ouch, my hearing buzzes and vision blurs. But it’s time. Tensing, a door slams and heavy footsteps round the vehicle.