Carl rounded his shoulders. “I didn’t do anything. He’s the one who tightened his fingers around her throat and squeezed until her lips went blue. You have such a bad opinion of me.”
“I ssshould be thankful…,” she slurred. “You’ve drugged me and tied me up?”
“You’re still alive, aren’t you?” His tongue darted from his mouth with a snake like slither. “I feel a little sorry for that runt of a boy you were with. Jacqueline was always a kinky bitch. It was only a matter of time before she was throttled to death.” His husky voice morphed into a strangled laugh.
He stepped over her bound body. With her face hovering inches from the carpet, she tried to follow his steps but her neck wouldn’t permit it.
His fingertips brushed along her inner thigh. “I love this dress on you. It added to your allure that night, well, that and your hair. I have a thing for blondes.”
Fear twisted in her gut, whispering to her sensitised skin to be aware. Prickles scurried across her scalp, hurtling down her back.
His hand followed the curve of her hip. She bit back a whimper as her stomach heaved. Her body jerked away from his touch.
“I want you to be sensible about this. Don’t make a scene when we get outside. If you do, well, I’ll have to resort to punishment and neither of us want that. Do we?” His tone was gentle. “You’re so innocent to Verto and its ways. I was over the moon when you asked me to be your first.” He lunged forward and planted a dry kiss on her temple. “There has to be a perfectly good reason why you didn’t show up. It was your fiancé, wasn’t it?”
Her lungs inflated, and she gulped back the sobs that bubbled in her throat. With every ounce of willpower, she managed to hold back the salty tears preparing to drop to the carpet.
She would never give him the pleasure of seeing how his actions affected her. She wouldn’t gift this psycho with the knowledge of her fear.
She swallowed hard. “It was nothing to do with him.”
“Sure it was. I would be jealous if my girl was going after a guy like me. I bet he made you go home early?”
She shook her head. “I left. Verto wasn’t for me. I changed my mind.”
Carl sighed removing a flick knife from his inside pocket. “You don’t get to change your mind, sweetheart. Not about me.”
“What do you want from me?” Her teeth chattered.
He stabbed the duct tape at her ankles, tearing the sticky adhesive from her flesh in one rip.
“I think that’s pretty obvious, Lana. We need to get to know each other better, and then you’ll realise the big mistake you made when you ran off like Cinderella.” The sole of his shoe nudged her hip. “You didn’t leave a shoe, but you certainly left an impression on me. You’re unforgettable.”
“Fairy tales, Carl?” Her head swam. “Don’t you know the bad guy always loses in the end?”
He nodded in agreement. “Most of them do. Just as well, I’m not the bad guy around here. You’ll see that soon enough.” He swept a clump of hair away from her face and smoothed it down her back. “I’m the good guy, sweetheart.” He paused. “Please don’t make a scene outside, or I’ll inject you instantly with a lethal dose. Do you understand?” His voice was calm.
Lana struggled to a stand, mumbling to herself incoherently. “Right…Good guys threaten death?” The words were meant to play out in her foggy brain but they fell out of her mouth with a hint of sound.
He slid her a chilling look. “I’m protecting you, from yourself Lana. Now, do you understand what will happen if you fight me?”
Steadying her with a helpful hand, he nudged her chin upwards. He squeezed her pale cheeks between his fingers and thumb, puckering her lips. “I said, ‘do you understand’?” His smoky breath made her stomach tighten.
“Yes,” she muttered.
Leaning into her face, he pressed his lips to her cheekbone. “Good. Things will be so much better if you comply.”
3
Carl led her by the arm, out of Rory’s house, a place she once called home.
He dragged her, shoeless and barely dressed, into the open. With each step, she padded the gritty concrete, and tiny stones dug into her soles. The road-fronted property was one of many townhouses; however, aside from the flow of traffic and a line of parked cars, there were no neighbours lurking.
The street was empty.
“For fucks sake,” hissed Carl. “My car is blocked in.”
Not knowing the layout of the busy road, Carl had parked awkwardly on the street corner and now his Range Rover was sandwiched between the neighbour’s ancient rusty Ford and a black bollard.
