Save Riley(9)

I wrapped my shirt around myself and decided to head toward the sound of the quieted voices and see who it was that lived here. I knew I had to be careful, so as I passed doors, I made mental notes of how many steps it would take to get to them. I wanted the nearest exit handy just in case I needed to barrel through it.

“Hello?” I called out nervously.

The only response was the sound of a chuckle that echoed into the main room I was standing in. I shifted from my right foot to my left and stared at the open doorway of the room to my right. That’s where the sounds of the television had drifted from and that’s where the chuckle had just come from.

“Hello?” I repeated.

“Come in,” the voice said.

I had seen horror movies that started like this. It was almost like going into the basement when you knew the world’s most horrible things tended to happen in there, but you went anyway.

I cleared my throat and walked into the spacious living room. I stopped short when I saw a man sitting with his back to me, sitting on the arm of the couch. His body was absolutely immaculate; one that you wanted to reach out and touch even though you knew it would lead to deep, dark sins. He was wearing a black sleeveless shirt and it looked like black athletic shorts, but I couldn’t tell from where I was standing. I craned my neck to see what he was watching but couldn’t see past him.

“Hi,” I said quietly.

He turned his face slightly and I saw the smile that was sitting on his face. His gorgeous lips curled at the edges and I felt a shiver go through me.

“It’s about time you woke up. You’ve been asleep for days,” he replied.

His accent was absolutely amazing and even though it was a bit hard for me to understand some of his words, I wanted to just sit next to him and listen to him speak.

Find out who he is and where you are before you fawn all over him.

“So, um. What’s up?” I asked, pulling the shirt tighter over myself.

He chuckled again and turned his face back to the television.

“How’s your head, Ms. Riley?” he asked conversationally.

“It hurts a bit,” I responded truthfully.

“It’ll go away soon. I promise,” he said turning the volume up a few bars.

He cleared his throat and continued watching whatever it was that I had interrupted him from. He was hunched over where he sat and after a few moments, he leaned over to the table next to him and placed a hand towel down, before setting an empty bowl of cereal on it. Well, almost empty; I could still see some milk and a few pieces of whatever it was at the bottom of the bowl.

He stretched his arms over his head before sliding down onto the couch cushion and interlacing his fingers behind his neck.

I stood there uncomfortably waiting for some further kind of acknowledgment, but I didn’t receive any. Instead he continued to laugh at the program he was watching, shifting on the couch every now and then.

“This is a very nice house you have here, Mr. ...,” I said, capitalizing on the fact that commercials had just started rolling.

“Whitlock. Thank you, Ms. Riley. I’m glad you like it,” he replied.

Okay, I don’t know any Mr. Whitlock. I need to get out of here. I took a few steps backwards, listening and agreeing with my inner heroine. Something about him not turning to face me or acknowledge my presence was starting to scare me.

I turned around and walked as quickly as I could to the closest door to the living room. The main doors to the estate I was in were tall and thick. There were topped with beautiful arched windows that allowed the sunlight to have secret glimpses into the home of Mr. Whitlock.

I quietly put my hand on the wrought iron door handle and pulled down. But it didn’t budge. I gave it a wiggle and tried to push down again and nothing.

“All the doors in the house and on this property require separate codes to open and close,” Mr. Whitlock said.

I jumped and screamed in shock, turning to face him. He was sitting on the stairs watching me with a look of amusement. And dear God was he beautiful. So beautiful in fact, that I didn’t realize I was standing there the closest to being naked in front of a man as I ever had been, until he leaned back against the steps and let his eyes wander down my body. I quickly pulled the shirt around myself feeling my face turn crimson from embarrassment.

“Don’t hide yourself from me, Ms. Riley. I quite enjoy looking at you. I have from the first day I saw you,” he said quietly.

“How do you know my name?” I finally blurted out.

He looked at me suspiciously for a moment, before a look of understanding dawned on his face. I watched Mr. Whitlock as he got to his feet and make his way toward me. He stopped a few inches away from me and ran a finger down the side of my face.