I felt nauseated and wanted to vomit. I looked around the space as my eyes began to adjust, taking in the room. It was huge. When you think about being kidnaped you always envision a damp, dark cell. Concrete floors, chains, maybe even some type of horrid smell. This was not it. The room was beautiful. Cedar wood dressers, a four post bed the size of a small country, floral patterns and incredible paintings adorning the walls. There were stunning ceiling high windows. The curtains were pulled shut, but with a room like this I could only imagine what the view would be like. I spotted a door across the room, it was open and I could see the toilet from where I sat. My stomach finally reminded my brain that things didn’t feel so great down there. I shot off the bed and ran toward the small bathroom, making it just in time to launch the contents of my stomach into the porcelain white toilet bowl.
Unfortunately for me, there was very little inside and I spent a good ten minutes just heaving and expelling the green goo that was my stomach lining. My belly hurt. I wondered if this is what it felt like to complete two hundred sit-ups – just the idea of sit ups made me want to retch again. I was even tempted to check my stomach to see if I’d produced instant abs. It felt like it.
After I’d managed to drag myself off the floor, I cupped some water in my hands from the faucet and tried to suck it down. It soothed the burning in my throat, but not the pounding in my head. I looked up into the mirror and found the cause, a large gash. The wound had been cleaned, but nothing had been placed over it. Not that I was worried right then, the room seemed pretty damn sterile.
I gripped the bathroom doorframe, taking another minute to check out my prison cell. I wondered who owned a place like this.It was stunning. The room not only had the large bed, but also a small leather couch, coffee table and a desk with still enough open floor space to throw a small party. Two big wooden doors which I assumed was the entrance sat across the room. I held my head and stumbled over to them, twisting both the knobs without success.
Of course, who leaves a jail cell unlocked?
I thought about banging and screaming for someone to let me out, but resigned myself to lying back on the bed and trying to pull myself together before someone came looking for me. I managed to get the world to stop spinning, but my mind was still going one hundred miles an hour.
Target had sold me out.
The conniving little asshole.
I prayed like hell that I managed to get out of this situation so I could warn the club. I had no idea if he’d done this as some sort of revenge against me or what, but he couldn’t be trusted.End of story.I laughed softly. Even if it were revenge, Kit would never let him live. The thought warmed my belly a little. He deserved everything he got.
I hope I can be in on that, I want a place in line to kick him in the nuts.
I heard the creak of footsteps outside the door and held my head as I forced myself to sit up. My eyes quickly gazed around the room once again, looking for anything I could possibly use as a weapon, but I came up short.
The doors clicked and slowly opened. I’m not sure what I was expecting, but the small frame of a young teenage girl was not it. Her hair was beautiful and golden and hung in a plait over her shoulder and lightly brushed her waist. She was wearing a weird type of dress. It was light blue with pinstripes and hit just at her knees. She had stockings underneath and an apron on that was tied over the top.
She looked very young, maybe seventeen or eighteen years old. She walked a little closer, leaving the doors wide open. From here I could see two burly men standing across the hall, their eyes staring straight ahead and their hands tucked behind their backs.
Awesome, bodyguards.
The girl stared at me as she stepped closer. Her eyes were pretty, colored not unlike mine with gorgeous long lashes that I was almost instantly jealous of.
“Hello,” she said quietly. “Are you hungry? I can bring you up some food.”
I nodded. “Yeah, a little.”
She mirrored my gesture, giving me one quick glance before turning sharply and basically running from the room. I wanted to yell at her to wait, but my head began to pound harder and the need to lie down heavily outweighed the need for yelling.
I must have drifted off. Waking to the clanging of cutlery as the young girl placed a tray of food next to the bed. Soup and bread, a muffin of some sort and a large glass of water with painkillers next to it.
“Thanks,” I croaked. When I looked up this time, my eyes widened slowly. The young girl was now sporting a freshly split lip.
She nodded and turned away. “Mr. Keaton will be up soon to speak with you. I suggest you eat.”
Her voice was soft and I barely caught what she’d said before she rushed to the open doors and pulled them closed behind her. This was so strange. I wondered who Mr. Keaton was, my mind finally putting the pieces of the puzzle together.
I was no long with Daniel Ashley.
I had been moved on.
This meant the chances of Kit finding me were becoming extremely thin.
I managed to force a little food down, enough to keep my stomach happy. The fast acting pain killers did wonders and my brain finally started working again.
There was no clock in the room, but it was daylight outside. I couldn’t assume at what point in the day it was, or whether it was still the same day I was taken. With whatever they pumped into me after the accident, it could be days later, or it could be hours. I had absolutely no idea.
Please, Kit!
My hope was slim.
I could be anywhere now.