Page 5 of Fallen Prince
I was sprawled on the floral rug in my living room. I must’ve fallen asleep on the couch, cuddled up beneath my favorite fuzzy pink blanket. But I didn’t remember…
I gasped, and everything came into sharp focusas I went on high alert. Frantically, my eyes searched the room, fearful that my captor still lurked in the shadows.
But there weren’t any shadows. Bright sunlight streamed through the large bay window, flooding the room with natural light. I wasn’t in that awful basement. I wasn’t bound to a chair while a monster interrogated me.
The terrible, beastly mask filled my mind, and I clutched a hand over my racing heart as I struggled to draw in oxygen.
My eyes swept the room a second time. And a third.
The monster was nowhere in sight. For a moment, I doubted that the horrific experience had even been real. It felt impossible now that I was back in my cheery townhouse, surrounded by the safety of my own home and bathed in warm sunshine.
But I recognized my pounding headache and scratchy eyelids all too well. These were the exact symptoms that’d assailed me when I’d first awoken in that basement and found myself trapped in a nightmare.
My fingers rubbed my wrists, checking for restraints that weren’t there. Not even the faintestbruise marked my skin where he’d bound me to that rigid metal chair.
I sucked in a deep breath, remembering the softness of the bindings.
I’m not going to hurt you. Don’t be afraid.Even though he’d terrorized me, Max had gone out of his way to make sure I was unharmed by the experience. He’d wanted to scare me into talking, but he hadn’t wanted to hurt me.
I recalled the cool sensation of the water he’d offered me, soothing my parched throat and alleviating the worst of my headache. Suddenly, I was desperately thirsty.
I struggled to my feet, swaying slightly at the lingering dizziness from the drugs.
Yes, the nightmare had definitely been real, and I was still feeling the lingering effects.
I stumbled toward my kitchen, quickly grabbing a glass from the cabinet and filling it with chilled water from my fridge. I moaned when the cool liquid slid over my tongue and down my scratchy throat.
Max might not have wanted to hurt me, but the aftereffects of those drugs were worse than the most wicked hangover of my life.
Despite the nauseating waves of heat that rolled just beneath my skin, my flesh pebbledwith an echo of the bone-deep chill that’d settled over me in that basement. I rubbed my arms, hugging myself tight. The back of my neck prickled, and I shot a wary glance around my brightly lit kitchen. I couldn’t shake the fear that’d taken root in my psyche, keeping me on high alert for danger that seemed to have evaporated in the morning sunlight.
Moving with slow caution, I tiptoed around my entire house, checking every corner for signs of my assailant.
Not a single one of my belongings was out of place. It was as though Max was a ghost, not the corporeal monster who’d bound me to a chair and asked me insane questions about my father and the Russian Bratva.
I am a monster out of your worst nightmares.A shiver raced over my skin as his snarled words played through my mind.
I took a deep breath and focused on the memory of his face, not when he’d snarled at me, but later, just before he’d let me go. His features had softened, and his eyes had dropped from mine as though he couldn’t bear to look at me.
Or he couldn’t bear my eyes on him.
He’d warned me that he was a monster, but at that moment, he’d been a damaged man tormentedby regret. His mad scheme had come to nothing, and his despair had been palpable.
Did he regret kidnapping me? Or was he devastated by the fact that I hadn’t confirmed the awful lies he’d said about my father?
I jolted at the thought of my dad.I won’t hurt you, but I have no problem hurting your father,Max had threatened.
A fresh spike of panic sent me rushing back into the living room, searching for my phone. It lay on my glass coffee table, right beside where I’d slept on my couch.
I barely registered a small swell of relief that Max hadn’t violated the privacy of my bedroom before I snatched up my phone. My jaw dropped when the screen lit up. The Notes app was open, and if I’d been tempted to think last night had been a terrible dream, the confirmation of awful reality was emblazoned on my phone:Your security is shit. Set a passcode. I’m not the only monster out here.
My skin crawled, and my eyes darted around the room once again. I rubbed at the back of my neck, trying to alleviate the maddening prickling warning that I was being watched.
Immediately, I opened my security settings and changed them so that my phone unlocked with a six-digit passcode rather than my thumbprint. The iron band around my chest loosened slightly once it was done; Max wouldn’t be able to break into my texts again. No one would be able to access my private messages.
I hastily exited my settings and opened up my messenger, frantically scrolling through the last four texts to my father.
My mouth twisted in a scowl when I noted a couple of one-word responses accompanied by multiple emojis. Max had been able to hold off my father’s concerns with a few smiley faces. My stomach lurched at the sudden, undeniable knowledge that Max had been able to abduct me without anyone realizing I was missing. How long would it have taken for Daddy to suspect that something was wrong?
