My captor pulled to a halt before a motel. He took off my helmet and we walked inside. My wrist was chained to his and his gun was in his hand. His men had sped past us.
We stepped into the darkness of the motel. We crept from room to room, gathering anything of use. Upon opening the next door I was hit with a smell that sliced my stomach open and sent its contents spilling onto the floor, soaking my shoes in vomit. When I righted myself we continued searching the room but we stayed away from the bed. I was thankful for how long I could hold my breath.
We walked back into the hallway but I heard the groan of a zombie and instinctively pulled my captor back into the room and shut the door behind us. He bent to bring his lips to my ear.
"Thank you."
One set of feet turned to two, then to three, and soon I lost count and my captor was leading me into the bathroom where he locked the door. He held me in place with a firm glare as he unlocked my chains. He stuffed them into his backpack and hopped onto the sink. He forced open the window and slinked outside. When I did the same he held out his arms to help me down. He gripped my hips tightly but gently, crouching to set me on my feet.
"Watch my six. Hit me if you see a zombie," He whispered.
"Only then?"
He laughed. I held onto his free hand so I could know where I was going as I watched behind us.
When we made it to the parking lot he peeked his head around the corner but quickly retreated, crashing into me and grabbing my arms to hold me steady.
"Bushes," He ordered, pointing behind me.
I ran into the thick greenery, my arms ripping and stinging as I did. I watched as my captor fought the hoard that screamed as they lunged for him. He shoved one to the ground to shoot another and gain enough time to leap atop a car and reload. The zombies struggled to follow him but the taller ones were able to grab his legs, though they weren't strong enough to pull him off his feet. Still, there were dozens of them.
He was a killer. He took me from my family. He scared me. I tried to see myself living with the knowledge that I let him die and my lips quivered before the vision disintegrated.
Cursing myself I stood and filled my lungs with all the air I could stand and let my body curve in a primal scream. My face turned red and my chest burned but it felt good, cathartic, energizing even. I knew I'd need the energy.
The dead turned to me and ran. I spun on my heel and raced for the road. I ran on the balls of my feet, my knees almost reaching my chest and the world rushing past me. I didn't look back as I ran, not even when my body burned, not when my mind turned to static, and not when I felt icy sweat soak my clothes.
Something hard smacked against me and my body was thrown to the concrete. Immediately my wrists, thighs, knees, and chest were numb but I'd manage to block my head from hitting the hard surface. I groaned in agony as I elbowed my attacker from behind, my back and spine receiving a stab of shooting, hot agony. The searing pain only multiplied when I turned onto my back and suppressed the hits against my ribcage to grab my attacker's forehead and smash their skull into the pavement. With every sickening crack I growled. The metal in the air poisoned my lungs like smog.
Suddenly I smelled burning rubber and my captor seemed to materialize beside me. He put his helmet on my head and forced me onto the back of his bike before making a harsh turn and speeding for the city. I was sure he could feel my heartbeat against his back. The icy wind whipping my flesh was revitalizing. His firm body against mine was oddly affirming. I'd never saw myself as ruthless or cutthroat but I was surprised to find myself happy that he was alive.
He drove me to an abandoned apartment building. He and I took the elevator to the penthouse. It was bright, clean, and airy. I didn't expect it to be so beautiful. The kitchen and living room were open concept. Connected to the kitchen was a short hallway with two doors to his bedroom and bathroom.
He placed his fingers against my elbow as gently as possible before he took me into the bathroom. My breath hitched when he pulled off his shirt and pants to reveal a shockingly toned body that was covered in tattoos.
"Undress, please. I need to disinfect your wounds."
While he washed his hands I stripped to my bra and panties. He opened the medicine cabinet and poured rubbing alcohol onto a cloth. He knelt down. I felt the man gently pressing the wet rag against my skinned knees and gently soothing me with his words as he did was a completely new man. I tried to push away the feeling of whiplash; of course he was multifaceted, it didn't mean he wasn't an ass.
He showered first so the rubbing alcohol could dry. When I took the shower after him I noticed a strange abundance of products. I didn't take long to leave the burn of water against open wounds behind, put on the clothes he laid out for me, and meet him in the main room.
Upon seeing me he snapped his fingers and pointed to the couch. I crossed my arms and popped my hip as I glowered at him. His back was to me as he made his way to the kitchen. When he turned to wash his hands he didn't bother to hide that annoying smile.
"Sit."
"Do I look like a dog to you?"
"Honest answer?"
"I saw the way you looked at me. I don't think you want to imply I look like a dog."
He tilted his head in a 'fair enough' gesture. He walked to the closet where he retrieved a dog collar and I froze. I watched him approach. My body was stiff, my jaw was set, and my body was heating. He stopped before me. He fastened the collar around my neck, the sound of a lock engaging making my stomach churn. He secured a chain to the collar and attached me to the couch.
"Sit, puppy."
I spit in his face and braced myself for his rage. He wiped his mouth. I couldn't see a hint of anger in his eyes and thus my frustration grew.
"Suit yourself."
I had enough room to walk to the window. The lights of the city at night twinkled like stars against the shadow of man. Beyond the concrete trees was an expansive ocean. It moved lazily under the light of the moon. My new home stood tall on the outskirts of the city. I could almost see where my sister slept soundly, safely... I hoped.
I heard glass against glass and turned to see the man setting two bowls on the table. He sat on the couch, his ankle on his knee and his arm stretched over the back. He watched me like a hawk. I held his gaze as I grabbed the bowl and sat on the opposite end of the couch.
He made apple pecan salad. Taking a bite of the fresh tasting lettuce, the chicken soaked in vinaigrette, and the blend of cheese, pecan, and carrot. It was the best salad I'd ever had. I ate tentatively despite how badly I wanted to inhale the meal bowl and all.
"I'm surprised you're eating it."
I turned to warn him with just my eyes. He shook his head, laughing.
"No, I didn't do anything to it."
Before swallowing I speared a leaf of lettuce and a chunk of chicken. I held the fork out for him. He gave me his stupid smirk again before he leaned in and brought it into his mouth. He pulled away with a moan. My legs flexed. He made a show of swallowing and I rolled my eyes.
"There's no point in killing you, my puppy."
"There wasn't a point in your attack, either."
"That's presumptuous."
"Spell presumptuous."
"P-R-E-S-U-M-P-T-U-O-U-S. I can also spell pretentious."
"If only you could stop talking."
"It'd get awful lonely here."
I finished off my salad and set the bowl on the table. I rested my head on the arm of the couch. The smart TV came alive and he put on a comedy. I was dreading the day the internet would shut down. It would have to be soon.
"Are you able to sleep with the TV on?"
"Yes."
I felt him stand and seconds later I flinched when I felt a heavy, fuzzy blanket swing through the air to cover my body. I looked up at him but he simply ignored me and returned to his place at my feet.
I tried to sleep but every thought belonged to Angela. I was still mad at her but my emotions now wouldn't change our history.
"Can I call my sister?"
I didn't look at him but I could feel his eyes on me. He set my phone beside my hand and stood to leave the room. The phone only rang once before I could finally breathe.
"Belle? Are you alright?"
"Hey, hey. I'm alright. It's okay. What about you? Are you safe?"
"I am. I was so scared."
I could hear John and Jackson in the background; John begging to talk to me and Jackson warning him to back off.
"I know."
"Where are you?"
"I can't tell you that."
"What? You escaped, didn't you?"
"No. He let me use my phone."
"Okay... Uh... We'll figure this out-"
"-No, Angela. You take care of yourself. I'm still with you. We're in each other's veins."
"I love you."
"I love you, too."
I hung up the phone and closed my eyes to hope for sleep.