I can feel my heartbeat pick up speed as my mind starts to fill with all the memories of me and him together. His hand around my throat. My tongue in his mouth. His lips on my skin.
Is this what Stockholm syndrome is? Is this how it happens, because maybe I understand now.
No. Fuck, I have to pull myself together. Cyrus isn’t here to fuck me senseless. He’s here to kill me. I have to remember that. I clear my throat. “I won’t say anything. Just take me home and I’ll forget we ever even met.”
Another slow shake of his head. “It isn’t that simple.”
“It can be though.” I sound more desperate than ever.
“Sorry, Carmen.”
I want to turn into myself and cry, but I don’t want him to know he’s getting to me. Instead, I let out a breath and tell myself I’m going to get out of this. I’m too damn determined not to.