You loosen the knot, tug the belt open, and the edges of the robe slip aside. Your fingertips brush down the sides of my throat, to my clavicle, along my breastbone. Gentle, tender. Your fingers shake on my flesh. I am breathing hard past the gag. Blinking furiously in the darkness within the bag blinding me. You nudge at the robe, and it droops off my shoulders, baring me. Now the scant coverage of the bikini leaves me feeling utterly naked.
“Ah...” An appreciative sigh. “So lovely, Isabel. Far too lovely to be covered.”
Snick.
A terrifying sound. Metallic. Sharp.
Something thin and cold touches my chest, my cleavage, right between my breasts. I stop breathing. Hold completely still.
The sharp edge does not pierce or cut as it traces the outline of my breast. A quick jerk between my breasts, and the string holding the tiny cups of the bra is severed. My breasts fall and sway loose.
I resume breathing then, but now my breathing is ragged with fear.
The blade tickles lower. Down my side, to the knot at my hip. Another quick jerk, and the string is cut. The bottom falls around my feet, and I am naked.
Gagging on my panicked breathing.
“Hush, Isabel. Be calm. You know I’d never hurt you.” Your breath, your voice, a whisper in my ear. “I couldn’t mar such perfection.”
Your presence recedes.
I hear aclick, the snap of a camera shutter. Ticking of smartphone keyboard keys. Thebloooopof a message being sent, and received.
Bbbbbrrrrriiiinnnnggagg!Your ringer, so familiar, the old-fashioned metallic blat of a rotary landline phone from decades past.
“Logan.” A pause. “Calm down, Mr. Ryder. As you see, she is unhurt. And she will remain unharmed. But if you leave your office, you will never see her again. No, you idiot, I won’t kill her. I will merely... keep her. I have, as of this moment, every intention of returning her to you in the same condition I received her. The photograph is merely proof of life, I suppose you could call it. I’m not going to hurt her. Nor you, for that matter, although I do have eyes on you, and those eyes are in possession of a rifle, capable of putting a bullet between your eyes from a mile away. Remain where you are.”
Another pause, as you listen. I can hear Logan on the other side, yelling, tinny, distant.
“What do I want? A moment with Isabel, that’s all. To talk. Just she and I.”
Logan’s voice.
“I will have her returned when we are done with our conversation.” You sigh, a sound of long-suffering. This is pure Caleb, calm, in control. “Your dog? She is unhurt as well. The dart merely contained a dose of sedative. She will wake up in a few hours none the worse for wear. And now I must let you go, Mr. Ryder. Remember, stay where you are. Stay in that very room, if you please. Do not leave for anything. In fact, it may be best to not even stand up, for now.”
And then you are in front of me, again, close enough to smell.
Silence, for a long, long time. An eternity, in which you are there, in front of me, not touching me, not speaking. I don’t know what you are doing.
And I can only endure it.
At long last, I feel your hands tugging at the hood. Removing it.
The light, even with sunglasses still on, albeit askew, is blinding after the total darkness.
I blink, and feel you adjust the sunglasses so they sit properly on my face.
My robe is still draped behind me, hanging from my bound wrists.
You are impeccably dressed. Three-piece charcoal pinstripe suit, tailored to fit your trim waist and wide shoulders. White button-down, a crimson tie, knotted but loose around your throat, topmost button undone. Hands in your hip pockets. Just eyeing me.
I glare back. Pretend to bravery I do not in any way feel.
“Isabel. Oh... Isabel. You are, as always, lovelier than ever.” You step closer. Closer, yet. I am unable to slow my breathing, then, when you press up against me. Inhale against my throat once more. Back up, run your palm up my side. Cup my breast and release it. “Pregnancy suits you, I must admit. It adds a softness to your already full figure.”
I am still gagged. I want to vomit at your touch. It is an immediate and instinctive reaction. And surprising.
Yet... welcome, considering my former addiction to you, my former susceptibility to your sorcery.
