Page 11 of Bound

Tensing up, I stood stagnant, waiting for a second shot, anticipating a bullet in my back as I begged for help to answer my call.

“Hello, Wallingdale police department.” I heard the dispatch clear as day, and yet I was mute, unable to connect my brain to my mouth. Nothing was working, my voice, my lips, the tumbling words that were thrashing around inside my skull; I was a quiet ghost in the receiver.

“Hello? This is Wallingdale police, is anyone there?”

I'm here! I can hear you! I need the police, send the police!

The screams went on inside my head, an endless barrage of noise that couldn't be heard by anyone else but me.

“Can I help you?”

Help! Yes, I need help!

“Hang up the phone.” A man's voice cut through my head, slicing my brain into numb slabs of meat. Inhaling a sharp breath, I could still hear the woman on the line, her questions demanding and concerned.

I should have screamed for help, I should have made some noise to let the police dispatch know that I was in serious trouble.

But I didn't. My jaw hung open, my lids shot to my brows, wide and afraid.

Oh, shit. . .

A heavy hand fell on my shoulder, spinning me around. “I said hang up the fucking phone.” Yanking it from my hand, the man threw it to the floor, and crushed it under his foot.

Everything around me fell silent. There were no voices, no subtle music; all I could feel was my body convulsing with spastic movements I couldn't control.

Staring up at him in shock, the white of his eyes lit bright, as a heavy scowl dressed his face. I could see the rage in his glare as his pupils expanded, and thick lines creased his forehead.

But it wasn't the man that had held the gun, it was my stranger that had seduced me. With wild eyes and fear in my voice, I asked, “What happened? What did you do?”

“I warned him, I fucking warned him.” Raking his hand through his hair, he dragged his fingers down his face. “It's alright, everything will be fine.”

I wanted to believe him, but how could I? There was a dead guy on the floor.

“Fine?! Fine?! How is this fine?! You killed him, you fucking killed him!”

Flaring his nostrils, he gritted his teeth and snarled, “Let's go.”

“I'm not going anywhere with you,” I said, taking a step to the side and eyeing the door.

Inching closer to me, he attempted to reach out and grab my arm. “We need to leave now, let's go.”

“Get away from me.” Backing towards a stall, I tried to slink inside and shut the door.

Lunging forward, he curled thick fingers around the back of my neck, and pulled me out, forcing my feet to move with him. “I'm leaving, and you're coming with me.”

The scarred man was laying on his back, eyes wide open, a bullet hole in the center of his head. Shock was the best word to describe what I felt. You can't prepare yourself for something like that, seeing a dead person laying in a pool of blood on the floor.

His face was frozen, his hand still twitching at his side. Gasping, I cupped my hands over my mouth as tears began to stream down my face. “He's dead, he's really dead.”

“He didn't listen, he should have listened.” Stepping around his body, the man yanked me along behind him.

Throwing the bathroom door open, the club was still moving, the room around us completely unaware of what had just happened. The music was too loud to hear the shot, and the alcohol was flowing so freely the bang went unnoticed.

With firm fingers around my neck, the man pushed me down the hall towards the back of the club, exiting out a door that dumped us into an alley behind the building. The cool air filled my lungs as a shiver ran through my body, making me realize I had lost all control.

I didn't like the feeling coming over me. I felt vulnerable, exposed, completely at the mercy of the man holding me hostage.

Why did I let him seduce me like that?

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