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Romance Me: A Collection Of Standalone & First In Series Books Page 5
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"Where do you think you're going?" His husky voice scared the crap out of her and she quickly pushed herself back onto the mattress until her head hit the wall behind her. He leaned forward in his chair and barked again. "I said, where the fuck do you think you're going?"
Tears stung Cassandra's eyes. "I need to use the bathroom," she mumbled.
"Do you see one?"
Cassandra's eyes adjusted to the darkness and she looked around. There was a door opposite of her bedding, but it was the only one which she assumed was the entrance to the room, not a bathroom. Her eyes scanned a large bucket and she prayed it wasn't what she would have to use to relieve herself. The thought alone made her forget she had to go.
She pulled her knees up to her chest and rocked back and forth. Cassandra sobbed but tried not to let him hear. "What do you want from me?" She found the courage to ask.
"Shut up. And don't ask questions," he warned.
She stayed quiet for a moment but couldn't help but try and talk her way out of danger. "If it's money you want, my father—"
The stranger threw a mason jar across the room and it shattered. "I don't want shit from your father," he screamed.
Cassandra's pulse raced. If he didn't want money, what did he want?
"Who are you?" Cassandra asked.
He jumped up from his seat and stormed toward her. Cassandra lowered her head toward her knees but felt his presence near her. He reached over and slowly traced her jawline with his finger. Chills went up her spine as thoughts of him forcing himself on her entered her mind. "Please don't," she pleaded.
"Please don't what?" He stopped touching her face but didn't leave her side.
Cassandra gulped then answered. "Don't touch me." She crossed her arm over her ripped t-shirt and hid her breasts from him.
The stranger burst out in laughter. "Don't worry, raping isn't my style." Cassandra saw blue in the darkness and somehow, she believed him. She eased slightly, but he continued to talk. "Oh, I'll have you, but you'll be begging me to fuck you senseless."
Just the thought caused a burning sensation between her legs. Cassandra didn't admit it, but she felt an odd attraction to him. He stood close, causing her to flush and she inched further onto the mattress. "What do you want with me?"
The captor leaned close and yelled, "I want you to shut your fucking mouth."
Chapter 2
ANTHONY LEANED AGAINST the table as he sat and watched Cassandra sleep. Her body was curled up and she shivered in the corner. A part of him felt sorry for her, she had no idea what was going on. One minute she was safe inside her therapist's office, then the next he had shoved her into the trunk of his car. Anthony thought about the day's event.
As Cassandra walked through the parking garage attached to the doctor's office, he walked up behind her, placed his hand over her mouth, and jabbed a needle into her arm. Anthony already rigged the security camera but knew he needed to get her into his trunk, gag and tie her, as fast as he could. He jumped behind the wheel and slowly made his way out of the garage, so not to draw attention to himself. Through the rearview mirror he noticed his accomplice starting Cassandra's car to remove it from the site.
She stirred in her sleep and Anthony focused on her body. It had been years since he'd seen a woman, a desirable woman at least. Hundreds of impure thoughts ran through his mind as his jeans tightened around his crotch. Cassandra had the look he expected a wealthy girl to have—long wavy hair, perfectly aligned teeth, a nice set of breasts, and long toned legs. Anthony longed to undress her, rip her bra and panties off, and have his way with her, but shook his head instead.
Someone of importance had hired him, a man he'd never seen in person. The mission was too important for him to fuck up. He had to stay alert and be ready for anything. Sex was out of the question, though her begging him not to touch her turned him on more than he could admit.
A flip phone on the table vibrated. Cassandra heard it and turned toward him. Her eyes opened as Anthony answered. He covered his mouth and spoke low in the hope she couldn't hear what he had to say. "Yes," Anthony spoke.
"Where is she?" The firm voice on the other end quizzed.
Anthony looked at the girl and lowered his head. "We're exactly where you told me to be."
"No," the boss screamed. "Where is she?"
Anthony squirmed in his chair. "She's been sleeping, and her cell phone is locked."
"Holy fuck, kid," the man on the other end of the line burst. "Wake her up and do whatever you have to do to get the phone unlocked. We don't have much time."
He sighed and answered. "Fine. Don't worry, I won't let anything happen to her." Without saying goodbye, Anthony shut the phone and ended the call. Cassandra sat up on the bed and stared at him. He reached inside a drawer and pulled out her phone, then raced over to her side. "Unlock this," he ordered.
"No," Cassandra cried, then hid her face between her knees. Anthony pulled his gun out from the back of his jeans and pressed it against her head.
"Look at me," he barked. Her tear streaked face turned toward him but said nothing. "I said, unlock it."
Cassandra reached over and took the phone in her hands. Her fingers trembled as she keyed in her passcode. She tried to hit the call button, but Anthony grabbed the device and lowered the gun. He sat beside her as he explored her settings and hacked the GPS.
"What are you doing," she stuttered. Anthony looked at Cassandra and smiled.
"I'm not doing anything," he grinned. "You are." He allowed her to watch as he opened her social media app. He then typed, "Much needed time on the beach," and hit the send button.
Cassandra's eyes widened as she noticed the location pop up. "No," she shouted.
"What's the matter, you don't like Greece?" Anthony knew he got under her skin and he wanted to laugh.
She choked on her words as she said, "My friends won't look for me if they think I'm on vacation."
The laughter escaped his lungs. "What friends?" he teased.
"I have friends." Cassandra looked down and paused. "In Europe."
Anthony waved the phone in front of her face and continued his torment. "Oh, in Europe," he mocked. "Must have been rough, traveling across the world."
Cassandra straightened herself out and let out a puff of air. "That's none of your business."
Anthony smiled. "Yeah, well I don't think your friends will come to the States to look for you, anyway."
"My therapist knows I'm not planning a trip to Greece."
"Oh yeah, Allen Jenson, the great doctor himself," he laughed. Anthony flipped through her friends list and clicked on the doctor's profile. "Why is your therapist on your social media to begin with? Isn't that a bit strange?"
Cassandra tried again to take the phone, but his hands were too quick. "He's my friend, too."
Anthony shook his head and walked back to the table. She watched his every move, but he didn't care. He turned the passcode off, reset her settings, and then placed the phone in the drawer it came from.
Chapter 3
CASSANDRA SLEPT ON and off throughout the night. The temperature dropped and left her fidgeting to keep warm. If it weren't for whatever poison he put into her body, she wouldn't have slept at all.
She laid in the corner thinking about how her abduction reminded her of her mother's death. Cassandra was young, a mere eight years old, but she remembered it still. Someone was there, she told herself. It was because of those beliefs that her father took her to see a psychologist. In time, along with the help of medication, they convinced her the blue-eyed man she imagined didn't exist.
That doctor, Allen Jenson, continued to council her and became her therapist. Cassandra shook her head when she remembered the stranger asking her why she connected with the therapist on social media. They were friends, she reminded herself, and he would report her missing. Dr. Allen Jenson escorted her to Europe to continue her treatments, claiming it was important for her mental health, and they became friends while abroad. She
knew he would look for her.
She turned and noticed the man staring at her. He doesn't exist, she heard the voice in her head say. Cassandra wondered why her captor reminded her of the man medication helped her to forget. His eyes, she thought. Cassandra obsessed with blue eyes. She didn't date much, Dr. Jenson said it wouldn't be a good idea, but she'd always been attracted to men with eyes of blue. It was all because of the man who saved her, she thought.
Looking back, Cassandra understood why Allen advised her against relationships. Although he was twice her age, he wanted Cassandra for himself. She liked him, but not in that manner. He once told her, "I don't see what you like in those colored eyes." Cassandra sneered, knowing he said that because his eyes were brown.
She sat up and pulled her knees to her chest. Cassandra had a morning routine which involved taking her medication before she even got out of bed. The stranger continued to watch her. "I need my medication," she told him, assuming he had it.
He shrugged and leaned back in the chair. "No, you don't."
Her mouth gaped at his reply, he didn't know who she was or what she needed. Then it occurred to her that she didn't know who he was, not that it mattered much. "What's your name?" she quizzed.
"What do you care?" He snorted in return.
Cassandra thought about it. "I don't," she replied. "But, since you have me locked up here with nobody else to talk to except you, what harm is it to call you by your name?"
He hesitated but answered, "It's Anthony."
"You mean like Tony," she asked.
Anthony picked up the gun and twirled it around. "You call me Tony and you'll wish you died." Cassandra gulped hard. "They called my no-good father, Tony. Don't make that mistake."
She nodded and sat on the edge of the bed. "Anthony, can I please have my pills?" Cassandra hoped that being polite to him would help her.
"No."
"I need them," she muttered. "They help me, they keep me balanced."
Anthony stood and leaned against the wall that faced her, placed his fist in his front pocket and stared at her. "You don't need shit. Those pills do nothing for you," he told her.
Cassandra worried. If he didn't plan on medicating her, what did he plan? She feared the worst and assumed he wanted to kill her. "Don't you have my purse?" Cassandra asked. "Can't you at least give me my birth control?" She knew didn't have any contraceptives, but if her purse was in the room, she'd be able to sneak her medication when he didn't look.
He chuckled at the thought. "You don't take the pill. You get the shots, and you're not due for another two-and-a-half months."
Cassandra couldn't believe her ears. "How do you know?"
"I know a lot of things, Cassandra Frame." He grinned as she studied his face, but she said nothing for a while. Anthony stood still, telling her he wouldn't back down. She wiggled and held her breath. "Now what's wrong with you?"
"I haven't gone to the bathroom since I've been here," she told him. "I can't hold it much longer," Cassandra admitted.
Anthony walked over to the table and opened the same drawer that held her cell phone to pull out a set of keys. He went to the door and unlocked all the locks. "Well." He turned to her. "Do you have to go or not?"
Cassandra jumped up and followed him out the door and stood in a long dark hallway. Anthony allowed her to walk in front of him. Cassandra thought of making a run for it, but noticed he carried the gun with him. Her feet were bare, and debris covered the floor. She continued walking in the direction he pointed to.
Anthony stopped her at a door. "I'll be right out here," he instructed her.
Cassandra nodded her head and turned the knob. Inside the bathroom was dirtier than the room he held her in. Like the other room, the bathroom had a small basement sized window that let in the sunlight from outdoors. Cassandra almost wished it were still dark.
Cobwebs hung in every corner, and under the sink along the rusted pipes. She neared the toilet and almost vomited. An inch or more of dirt covered the seat, and a stench of death rose from inside. Cassandra cried at the thought of sitting. Her bladder pained her, and she knew she either had to sit on the toilet or let the pee run down her pants.
Cassandra removed her jeans and used them as a barrier between herself and the toilet. It felt good to relieve herself, but she realized there wasn't anything to wipe with. Tears fell down her cheeks as she tried to figure out what to do. Even if there were toilet paper, she told herself, it would have been worthless. She prayed she'd see a clean bathroom before she died.
"You can't flush," Anthony yelled from the other side of the door. "The water is off."
Just great, she complained to herself. Thinking like a man, she wiggled on the seat and tried to get as much of the moisture off as she could. When she stood up to replace her jeans, she could feel the rest of the urine run down her inner thighs. She couldn't end like this, she thought.
Cassandra looked up at the window. She knew her body wouldn't fit through it but hoped she could at least get someone's attention and call for help. Cassandra finished zipping her jeans and knew Anthony could hear her move around. She had to act fast! So, she stood up on an empty trash can, reached for the glass, and pushed. Her footing slipped from the can and she stumbled back to the floor and screamed.
The door burst open and Anthony pulled her out by the arm. "What the fuck are you doing?"
"I tried to wash my hands," Cassandra lied to protect herself. "But a spider came out of the faucet and scared me."
"If there's no water for the toilet, how did you think you could wash your hands?" Anthony yanked her arm and forced her back into the room.
She turned to face him once they were back inside. He re-locked the door and headed back to his chair. Cassandra eyed the locks and wondered if she could figure out which key he used on each of them.
Anthony must have read her mind. Before he sat down, he placed the keys in his front pocket. "If you want them," he teased. "You're gonna have to get them."
Cassandra's face flushed when she looked at the bulge in his pants. Anthony smiled, and she knew she kept her eyes there much longer than she should have. She looked down and raced to the mattress. Cassandra crawled across it and faced the wall.
She didn't want him to see her blush. Her breasts ached, and she knew it was because of him. He had kidnapped her, she reminded herself, and she wondered why her body heated when her mind raced with thoughts of him. Now, more than ever, she needed her medication to keep her from growing insane.
Chapter 4
ANTHONY PACED BACK and forth. The flip phone hadn't sounded, and he grew impatient. Cassandra watched his every move, but he ignored her pleading stares. He didn't like being locked inside the basement any more than she did.
"This place is such a dump," he complained as he kicked the wall and watched the concrete crumble to the floor.
"Then why are we here?" Cassandra asked. She brushed her fingers through her chestnut colored hair and waited for him to reply.
Anthony plopped down on the chair. "It's only for a few days." He looked at her and noticed the way she studied everything he did and said. He realized boredom was getting the better of him and he didn't want to appear to weaken. "Why don't you roll over, go to sleep, and shut up?"
Her stomach growled, and Anthony's agreed. "I'm hungry," she told him.
He reached under the table and pulled out a bag. There wasn't much, and he wasn't sure if it would last. Anthony pulled out a box of crackers and handed her a sleeve while he kept one for himself. He gave her a bottle of water but said, "Don't drink this too fast. We don't have much."
"You didn't bring food and water?" Cassandra rolled her eyes and continued to open her crackers.
"I couldn't exactly carry a ton of groceries and you," he replied. Cassandra dropped her food and bawled. Her tears softened him a little. "Look," he said to comfort her. "I'm not going to hurt you."
She wiped her eyes and looked at him. "Then why are you holding me here?"
Anthony swallowed the food in his mouth an answered. "Let's just say I'm making good on a promise I made a long time ago."
Cassandra didn't know what to think of his comment and he didn't feel like elaborating. She finished the crackers he gave her and rolled over and faced the wall. There was nothing for either one of them to do. She napped on and off for the rest of the day while he continued pacing the floor waiting for the phone to ring.
ANTHONY'S EYES GREW heavy. The sun had gone down outside a few hours before. He hadn't had a good night's sleep in a couple of days and seeing Cassandra sleep on the mattress stirred a little jealousy within him. He watched her as her breathing slowed, and he knew she was out.
He quietly walked over to the mattress and looked down at her. Her eyes didn't open, and Anthony thought that was a good sign. He watched her sleep for a moment. Her soft brown hair enveloped her face. Anthony wanted to bend over and move it away from her eyes but resisted. Touching Cassandra would be a bad idea, he thought.
Moving toward the bottom of the mattress, he slid across to the other side of Cassandra. A pillow would be nice, he thought, a hotel would have been nice too. The boss thought the basement was best until the coast cleared. "He's an idiot," Anthony mumbled to himself.
Cassandra shivered and so did he. The temperature of the basement dropped again. Anthony moved closer to Cassandra and her scent alarmed him. His nose inched closer to her brown locks and took in the Japanese cherry blossom that still lingered. After two long days in a dingy basement, he thought she'd lose the scent.
It wasn't just his nose that moved close to her. Anthony's entire body nestled against Cassandra's. "Shit. This isn't good," he complained again. He knew if she felt his erection press into her, she'd freak out.
He shut his eyes and tried not to think about her soft skin next to him. He promised the boss he wouldn't touch her. It was a job, nothing else, he reminded himself. Part of Anthony hoped she would turn to him and make a move on him, then when the boss found out, he would be innocent.