I’ve been kidnapped by a serial killer.
Bella’s hands started shaking as she looked around, desperate for an exit. There was a small window over the bed that she could probably squeeze through. She climbed up onto her knees with her heart racing in her chest and pushed the window open. The cabin was in the thick of the forest and she had no idea where she was.
Something or someone moved in the other room and she whipped her head around, staring at the open door with her chest tight and a shakiness in her limbs.
Heavy footsteps were coming toward the room, sounding out like an executioner’s drum. Bella was frozen to the spot, any hope of escape was vanishing with every step that the monster took toward her.
She quickly dropped back down on the bed and closed her eyes, pretending that she was asleep. Images of serial killers came flashing through her mind like rapid-fire.
He’s going to butcher me and make a lamp out of my skin.
The footsteps reached the room and she held her breath, too terrified to breathe.
“I know you’re awake.”
Bella squeezed her eyes closed even tighter. This is not happening.
The deep roughness of his voice was like the voice of a beast, turning her blood cold and making the hair on the back of her neck stand up straight.
“Open your eyes,” he commanded, making her flinch.
She slowly opened them, gasping when she saw him.
He was huge. His massive body towered over h
er, his head almost reaching the ceiling. He was built like a truck with an enormous chest and big muscular arms. He was wearing a tight brown sweater that clung to his sculpted round shoulders and stout back. The hood of his sweater was on over his head with the fabric and shadows covering his face.
Bella could feel her face turning white, her stomach in knots. He had come to kill her. Why else would he be hiding his face?
“Are you going to kill me?” she asked in a shaky voice.
He huffed out a breath, his massive chest heaving up and down as he stared down at her.
“You hit your head.”
She glanced up at the window. Was it too late to jump out?
He caught her intentions and a low growl escaped from his throat.
“You’re not leaving,” he said, his voice deep and rumbling.
Bella pressed her elbows into her sides, making her body as small possible. “Am I your prisoner?”
“Call it what you want,” he answered, “but you’re not leaving.”
Her pulse was racing, her heart hammering in her chest. She got a jolt of adrenaline and swallowed hard. “Yes I am,” she said, swinging her legs over the bed to stand up.
He was on her at once, moving so fast that all she saw was a blur. He put a powerful hand on her shoulder and pushed her back down onto the bed. God, he’s so strong.
“Don’t test me,” he growled, leaning forward. “It’s not just my looks that make me a monster.”
His head leaned down into the sunlight and Bella gasped when she saw his face. He had four long scars across the right side of his face starting at his forehead and running down to his chin. He was horrifying.
She cringed, closing her eyes as she turned away.
“You’re not leaving,” he repeated, standing back up straight.
Bella swallowed hard and then slowly turned to look at him again. His eyes were a sad brown that looked very familiar. He had a strong masculine chin with a rough face that would have been handsome if it weren’t for the deep pink scars running over it.