Page 800 of One More Kiss

Avery

Pain.

My entire body was in pain.

A deep soreness, like I'd just rolled down the side of a rocky mountain.

I opened my eyes, but everything stayed black.

I tried to raise my arms, but they were secured to the armrests of the chair I was in. Undaunted, I twisted my wrists and felt the sharp plastic edges of zip ties. The same for my ankles, tied to the chair legs.

I pitched my head forward in a feeble attempt to dislodge the hood, but it didn’t work. Still trapped in darkness, I panicked. My breathing came hard and fast as the warm, stifling air sifting through the thick fabric of the hood strangled my lungs. Each time I moved, the wooden chair I was sitting on creaked and complained. I paused and tried to stay still, not wanting to alert my captors to the fact I was awake. Holding my breath, I strained to listen for the slightest sound, anything that might tell me where I was or if there was someone else in the room with me.

I could scream. I should scream. Maybe there was someone nearby to help. Or maybe screaming would get me killed. Until I knew more about where they had taken me and why, I would keep my mouth shut.

After an eternity, a door opened, then softly closed. My back straightened as I went on high alert, hoping to learn something, anything, about who approached. Footsteps neared me. By the scuff and muted crunching noise of the shoes, it sounded as if they were walking on a cement floor. There was also a shallow echo as if we were in a large, empty room.

My heart leaped out of my chest when they finally spoke. The sound shattered the unsettling silence. His voice was calm and controlled. “Good morning, Avery.”

My stomach twisted in a sick knot. Whoever he was, he knew my name. So much for this being a huge misunderstanding.

I licked my dry lips and tried to swallow past my dry throat. Unlike his, my voice sounded high-pitched and scratchy when I finally croaked out, “Who are you? Why have you taken me?”

He touched my shoulder, and I jumped from the contact. “All in good time.”

I twisted my wrists. “Please. Please just let me go. I promise I won’t call the cops. I won’t tell anyone.”

Fabric rustled. Although I couldn’t see, I could hear his deep, even breathing right in front of me. I sensed he had crouched down on his haunches. His hands covered the tops of both of mine. His touch felt cool and strangely reassuring. “Shhh, cara mia. Don’t move your wrists. You’ll hurt yourself.”

Cara mia?

It sounded Italian and like an endearment, which wasn’t possible. It must be an insult or curse. So why did it feel like a caress the way he said it? Fuck—heat and fear were frying my brain if I thought this man was whispering an endearment to me while I was tied to a chair with a hood over my head being held captive God knows where.

“Please, just untie me. I can’t breathe under this hood.”

There was a tug on the hood as he shifted it slightly exposing my shoulder and neck, then he picked up a lock of my hair. “First, tell me what you know about Piero Russo’s business.”

It was hard to concentrate with him standing so close. I couldn’t see the man but in my mind's eye, he was about eight feet tall with red eyes and, strangely enough, wearing a suit. “Mr. Russo? My boss?”

A chair scraped along the floor, stopping right in front of me. There was the rustle of clothing again as he supposedly sat. Then his hands were on my knees. His thumbs rubbed the insides, right where my thighs started. I tried to squeeze my legs shut, but the zip ties around my ankles prevented it.

His chair squeaked as he leaned forward. “Tell me what you know, cara mia.”

Even through the hood, I could smell the peppermint on his breath.

I closed my eyes, battling the woozy light-headed feeling I was getting from breathing too fast through the thick cloth. “I don’t know anything, I swear. I just answer the phones. I’m a nobody.”

He ran his hands over the tops of my thighs. “I’m only going to warn you once. Don’t lie to me, Avery. You wouldn’t like what happens to people who lie to me.”

My body trembled. There was only a thin piece of fabric between my skin and his palms. He was talking in low soothing tones which made every word he said that much more terrifying. I swallowed. Thoughts scattered through my fevered brain as I helplessly searched for what to say, but it was useless. Terror clouded all thought out. I swallowed. “I’m not lying, I swear to you. I just answer the phones. I’m not involved in any of his business dealings. He won’t even let me file any of the invoices we receive.”

His thumbs drew small circles on my inner thighs. “You’ve seen his invoices. Good girl. You know more than you think you know.”

His praise was everything and nothing at the same time. The sense of elation I felt at pleasing him was both sick and twisted. My body was responding to the soft caress of his hand, which was fracturing my mind with confused messages of fear and arousal. The man had kidnapped me, for fuck’s sake. I didn’t even know what he looked like. How could I be getting aroused by the sound of his voice and the slight touch of his hands?

Still, I would tell him anything he wanted to know if he would just let me live. I knew from true crime documentaries that it would be best if I tried to connect somehow with my captor. It humanized me to them and made it less likely they would kill me. The only problem was I had nothing to say. There was no husband or young children waiting for me at home. I didn’t even have a dog. My parents were long gone, and I was an only child. My death would literally go completely unnoticed. Even Mr. Russo would probably not even raise an eyebrow. He would assume I'd quit while he was in Italy. It was a humbling thing to realize your presence on this Earth hadn’t left the slightest mark.

I could lie to him and tell him I had children, but something deep down warned me not to. I trusted in his threat. Besides, if he knew my name, there was a good chance he knew more details about me.

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