And it wasn’t out of fear. More like nostalgia.
Maybe Elise had succumbed to Stockholm’s Syndrome, because all she could seem to recall was the thrill and excitement, the warmth, and most importantly, the connection. She’d run the gamut of emotions in that little cabin…and she wanted it all back.
Returning to her life should have been a welcome occurrence. Instead, it served as a stark reminder that she was utterly alone and her life was about as exciting as a piece of dry toast.
For just a few short days, she’dlived.
Now, she just felt empty. The sun didn’t shine as bright. The nights were too quiet. The days too long. Food lacked taste.
She was lonely.
But there was nothing to be done about it. It wasn’t as if she could just go out and reenact the whole scenario that led up to her kidnapping and have it happen again. Lightning didn’t often strike twice in the same place.
Elise should know. She’d tried.
The grocery store’s parking lot was completely uneventful, just as it should be.
Sighing, Elise opened the freezer to grab the last of the frozen, microwaveable meals, only to find she’d already eaten it.
“Dammit,” she breathed. Shoulders slumping, she entertained the idea of just waiting it out until breakfast the next morning, but her stomach chose that moment to voice its opinion on the matter, and she knew she wouldn’t make it till then.
Putting on her jacket was a chore, as was stuffing her feet into her slip-on shoes. Everything seemed that way lately. Just a constant struggle to get through the day.
Ah, depression, we meet again.
Thankfully, luck was on her side today, as the skies were clear, nary a puddle in sight, and her car, which had been repaired and returned the previous day, was in working order. She slid behind the wheel and was roaming the aisles of the grocery store in a matter of minutes. Filling the hand basket was a matter of grab and drop—no real thought process behind it. She was eating out of habit rather than for taste.
Elise went through the same song and dance with the teenage cashier as she always did, exchanging mundane pleasantries as per usual and forking over the dough on command. Gathering her bags, Elise gave a lax head tip when the boy wished her a nice day and trudged out into the nippy spring weather.
She missed snowflakes, she mused, as she crossed the parking lot, thinking of the little white puffs that’d drifted down around her that day. It all seemed so long ago, rather than a matter of days. It didn’t seem right that she should look back on any of it with any kind of fondness or longing, but she was.
Maybe it was Marcus. She’d considered this a few times, actually. Her thoughts, while misguided at best, always snagged on him. For a time, he’d made her feel safe and protected. Wanted. She’d never had that before. It was addictive, she guessed. And maybe that’s why she kept looking back. Maybe she just wanted more of that fuzzy feeling that came with lust and attraction.
Maybe she wasn’t crazy, but just lacking something fundamental in her life. Like human connection. Companionship.
Excitement.
A breeze kicked up and Elise, pausing at her car to drop her bags in the trunk, tilted her head back and breathed deep. “I need a vacation,” she muttered. Maybe that’s what she needed to break her out of this melancholy. An adventure to trump all adventures.
Except the only adventure she’d ever had was being thrown into the back of a van and stowed away in a remote cabin in the woods. So the bar was set pretty low.
She was really messed up in the head.
Slamming the trunk lid down, Elise depressed the button on the key fob as she rounded the vehicle. The taillights flashed once.
Then she heard it. A car slamming on its brakes. A door opening. Footsteps running.
Elise’s heart sped up, her breathing shallowed.
When she felt a pair of strong arms band around her waist, she didn’t fight it. Instead, a wicked part inside of her shouted, “Yes!”
Dragged backward, Elise struggled only barely. This was what she wanted, what she’d been looking for. Relief was all she felt as she was once again taken—only this time, it wasn’t against her will.
But instead of being thrown inside the back of a waiting van, she was swung around, her back shoved up against the side of a car. The cold metal bit through her jeans, but the solid wall of warmth at her front chased away the chill.
Confusion swarmed inside her. “What the—” Her words died as she looked up into Marcus’s warm, blue-eyed stare.
Smirking, he cupped her face and pressed in tighter. “You didn’t even put up a fight.”