Page 39 of Cowboy Heat
I think I’m going to be sick; I think I’m going to pass out. I’m on the couch hovering between both before I can make another attempt to flee.
“Move again, and I’ll cut you instead,” he says matter-of-factly.
This time, I decide to believe him. My head is spinning.
He goes for the zip ties.
Horror fills my body.
What do I do?
What can I do?
He has my wrists together in front of me before I can think of an answer. The zip tie is black and burrows into my skin.
He goes for the duct tape next.
“What are you doing?” I ask, my voice all wobbles.
My legs start to fight back before my brain can okay it. I try to get off the couch, but he pushes my knees down with one mighty hand and scoops up the tape with the other. He bends down to his own knees and starts to get a piece of tape going.
I bring my hands up and then down against his shoulder.
Nothing.
My little attack does nothing.
This man is solid. A wall of black.
He makes fast work of wrapping the tape up my ankles and shins.
It hurts, but not as bad as my face.
“What are you doing?” I ask again.
The man stands back up and surveys his work with the tilt of his head. “Where’s your phone?” he asks instead of answering.
I don’t want to answer.
I also can’t remember.
It’s like he knows both. He walks away from me and back to the foyer. For a big man, he’s not slow.
He’s holding my phone up in between us.
I see the icon for one missed call. It lights up again before I can see who it belongs to.
Now I see the name flash above the incoming call notice.
It’s Beau.
My heart goes from racing to the triathlon of its life.
“Who is this?” the man asks, glancing at the vibrating phone in his hand.
“Someone who will come here if I don’t answer,” I try, going for as sincere as possible. I can’t tell the man’s facial expressions through his mask, but he doesn’t immediately say no. I lean into it. “I don’t know what you want with me but—but I don’t want him getting mixed up in it.” The phone is still ringing. Why is he calling me? “I need to answer and tell him I can’t talk.”
It’s a simple, reasonable request.
