A man.
Not a boy like Brandon.
“Oh God,” I whimper and bite my lip, attempting to force images of my sexy boyfriend back to the forefront of my mind. “I feel close.”
Brandon’s tongue goes wild and I squirm against him. I want his tongue to own me. I want him to stick his fingers inside of me and probe where nobody but me has ever been before. I’m ready for so much more than what we’ve had—for the innocence of our relationship to die a quick death.
A creak of the floorboard in my bedroom has me jerking my eyes open. I expect to see Dad—to meet the furious glare of my father. But I don’t.
Instead, it’s something a thousand times more terrifying.
And I nearly come despite the alarm that renders me immobile.
I’m a sick girl.
A tall man, dressed completely in black, donning a ski mask holds a finger to his lips as he sneaks up behind Brandon. Terror seizes me and I’m unable to move a muscle. I want to scream. I want to scramble away. I want to know what the hell is going on. But I can’t do anything but stare.
His dark eyes through the mask stay on mine as he prowls closer. Of course Brandon chooses that exact moment to hit the right spot. Spots darken my vision and I’m on the cusp of something euphoric.
But my dream is threading with a nightmare.
This darkness fits but it is also wrong and dirty. This can’t be real—this can’t be happening.
I’m confused, but the moment he grabs on to my boyfriend’s hair and yanks him away from me, reality splashes me out of my lusty daze. I find my voice and I scream.
Everything seems to slow down and I’m rooted with my butt on the quilt Nana made for me when I was twelve. Brandon attempts to swing at the man but he’s too slow—too young—too innocent.
Crack!
The man’s fist connects with Brandon’s nose and the sickening crunch has me dry heaving.
“Dad!”
Brandon crumples to the floor as blood gushes from his face. I need to help him. No, I need to get away. Fear releases its clutch on me and I scramble on the bed toward the door. I’m close when a powerful arm hooks around my middle and yanks me back.
His hand slaps over my mouth and my naked body heaves in his clutches. I attempt to wriggle from his unyielding grasp but he’s too strong.
“Did you come?” he hisses against my head and frees my mouth.
The room blurs with my tears and I freeze. I know this voice.
“Gabe?”
“It was a yes or no answer, little girl. You have three seconds to answer the fucking question before I slit that pussy’s throat.”
His threat nauseates me and a sob catches in my throat. Where’s Dad?!
“Three.”
My voice. Why won’t it work? Please, God. Help me!
“Two.”
No! No! No!
“One. Times up.” He reaches behind him and then brings around a huge knife out in front of me. A knife like that would kill Brandon.
“N-N-No!”
A throaty grunt vibrates through my back. If I had to guess, I’d say he is pleased by my answer. And by the way his erection presses into my back, I’d say excited too.
“Good answer,” he mutters. “Now, say goodbye to your bedroom and your pussy-ass boyfriend. You’ll never see them again.”
His hand covers my mouth before I have a chance to belt out the scream that is now lodged in my throat. Surely this is some sort of joke. A plan for Dad to make sure I don’t ever try to sneak around with Brandon under his roof.
Yes, that must be it.
All a game.
“Sorry, sweetheart, but this is going to hurt.”
That’s the only warning I receive before he cracks me over the head with a blunt object—probably the butt of his knife. Darkness steals over me, and the last thing I catch a glimpse of is Brandon’s bloody, unmoving body. You’ll never see them again. I can’t handle the reality of that concept and the thought shoves me into oblivion.
MY HEAD THROBS.
Thump. Thump. Thump.
Where am I?
What day is it?
I’m aching and disoriented and cold. But that isn’t what has me terrified. It isn’t that I haven’t eaten. Nor is it that I also haven’t slept. No. What’s terrifying is that I haven’t seen anything but complete black in what must be days.
Anger bubbles in my chest at having been stolen by my neighbor. I can’t prove it but I know his voice. He took me right from my bedroom. Dad never came. Brandon was badly hurt. And I haven’t a clue as to where I am.
I think I hear a thud above me and I try to still my racing heart. Why would Gabe take me to lock me away in some dungeon and let me die? It makes absolutely no sense.
Another thud. Several of them. My heart flares to life and I hope maybe the cops have come for me. That my dad is leading a pack of angry policemen dead set on rescuing me. Seventeen is too young to die. I had plans—plans that involved going to med school. Plans that I’d hoped involved marrying Brandon and having a bunch of babies. We’re in love. God, I hope he’s okay.