He turned so that we were facing each other and whispered, “Prize. You’re my prize.”
I shook my head, tears pricking at my eyes. “You’re crazy if you think I would ever go along with this.”
His eyes held mine and we reflected opposite images of each other. Where he was cool confidence, I was fear and hatred.
He broke the stare down first and reached for my hand. Gripping it gently but firmly he pulled me up the walkway and the stairs and then unlocked his front door. We walked in his comfortable living space, even if it was a little chilly and dark. He went around the room lighting candles and then a fire from an enormous fireplace in the front room.
The house was tastefully and comfortably decorated. The pieces of furniture high end and in good shape and there was an overwhelming feeling of family here. I couldn’t stop my thoughts from wondering what happened to the family that lived here before Kane took over.
Were they killed in the initial attacks?
Were they forced from their home when Kane’s dad came into power?
Did Kane kill them in cold blood when they refused?
“It will be easier for you if you stop fighting this,” he said in a low voice from near the fire place.
“I’m not sleeping with you,” I declared firmly.
I couldn’t even find the fear that had been plaguing me all day. Yes, there was panic and terror somewhere inside me, but mostly I felt steel determination. I felt resolve.
He was not going to touch my body. He was not going to get close to me.
And to my chagrin he broke into the first genuine smile I had seen from him. It was staggering. He was staggering. Gone was the cold indifference and serial killer charm and in its place was a warmth and affection that seemed blinding with his charisma.
“Nobody said you had to,” he laughed. “You can stop believing I’m a monster, Reagan. I’m not.”
“Then let me go,” I countered.
He shook his head, losing his infectious smile. “I won’t do that.”
“Won’t?”
“I won’t let you go,” he breathed. My skin tingled with a looming premonition and my eyes watered with panic. He continued, “You’re perfect for me. And you’re mine now. I won’t lose you.”
“You don’t even know me,” I pointed out. “I’m a raging bitch.”
He shrugged.
“I would make a terrible wife…. uh, partner, um, possession. I won’t ever be submissive; I won’t ever not fight you.”
“You’re jumping to conclusions,” he admonished me with too much amusement. “Don’t you want to get settled before you warn me off?”
“No. I want you out of my life today.”
“Not happening,” he countered. “This is the best thing that could have happened to you. Stop looking at this like a tragedy and recognize your good fortune.”
“And my friends?”
“Will be safe and taken care of as long as you remember your place.”
I laughed bitterly. “And if I don’t?”
His expression became solid stone. “Don’t find out.”
A knock on his front door had us both whirling around. He sighed impatiently but walked casually over to open it. I took the time to take in his house, find a way to escape, find a weapon to wound him with.
The windows were all barred – something I hadn’t noticed at first. And the back door through the kitchen was padlocked from the inside. There was no walking out of this house, not easily anyway.
I wondered what the second story was like, but had no desire to find myself up there. Not where the bedrooms were. Although in his defense, I wasn’t feeling a “raper” vibe from him. Which might be naïve on my part, but there it was. All the same.
He was detached, distant and terrifying. But he wasn’t the forceful kind. His touches had been somewhat…. gentle and he had coaxed and manipulated me with soft threats and urging insistence. Other than that time he held a gun to my head, he’d actually been kind of a, uh, gentleman.
I shivered with disgust at those feelings. He was also a kidnapper, a tyrant and a desperate man if he felt he needed to steal his women.
The door swung open and a girl around my age stood through the haze of the screen door. Her black hair floated around her shoulders in tumbling waves and her gray eyes assessed Kane with calculating, judgmental eyes. Her delicate features were pursed into disapproval and her petite shoulders tense with frustration.
“Tyler,” Kane breathed. “What do you want?”
What was she? An ex-girlfriend? Lover? If he had this girl waiting for him at home, then why on earth was we dragging me back here?
“Just stopped by to meet your new pet,” she replied with perky enthusiasm.