His Agenda: Veiled Obsession Part 8

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN.

It had to be a coincidence. How would Mrs. Drawbridge know that calla lilies were my favorite flowers? No, it couldn't mean anything. And yet it meant everything. This was a warning.

I sat on my bed shaking for what seemed like an hour. It hit me that coming to Serendipity had been a mistake. The town was too close to Madison. I had to move away to a bigger city, a place with enough people to swallow me, to hide me from my worst nightmare. Maybe I'd adopt a new ident.i.ty and make it even harder for him to find me.

After calming my breathing, I checked again that the door was locked, shut all the windows, and then picked up the contents of the breakfast tray from the floor. I wiped up the mess with the kitchen towel. My hunger had completely disappeared.

Just to make sure I wasn't imagining things, I called Mrs. Drawbridge, who answered in a chirpy morning voice.

"Did you get your breakfast?" she asked when she recognized my voice. "I don't like disturbing my guests. They come to the Drawbridge Inn for privacy, and that's what they get." She paused and breathed in. "Can I help you with anything else, dear?"

"I ..." I licked my lips as my heart started to race. I was afraid of the response even before I spoke again. "Thank you for the flower. Beautiful ... It's beautiful."

"What flower, dear?"

That was all I needed to hear. The phone slipped from my sweaty grasp and fell with a thud to the floor.

I could still hear Mrs. Drawbridge's faraway voice on the other end, but I couldn't pick up the phone. With my arms around my legs, I rocked back and forth and sobbed long and hard.

It had to be him. He knew where I was. He was just biding his time before coming to get me. I was trapped. If he knew I was staying at the inn, he would know when I came and went. I couldn't leave my room. But then again, he had found a way to slip a flower on my breakfast tray. If he wanted to get to me, what would stop him?

I peered through the bedroom door to the front door, trying to listen to the sounds outside. But the thumping of my heart and my sobs were too loud to let me hear anything.

Still, I watched the door for one straight hour, waiting for him to enter, to find me, to take me back to his life, to punish me harder that he had done before.

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT.

Jude had everything to do with the flower, and he was near.

I picked up the jam-stained kitchen towel and smelled it. My stomach cramped. The faint, but still unmistakable masculine scent made me woozy. I dropped the towel, but the scent was stuck in my nostrils-musky, expensive. No point in trying to deny the raw truth.

My body thrummed with anxiety as my gaze swept the room, searching for possible weapons I could use to defend myself if Jude entered the room. I took in the empty vase on the round table near the window and thought of the iron rod that held up the shower curtain in the bathroom. Then I stood and opened every drawer. A thought crossed my mind and I ran to the tray. My heart fell. It didn't surprise me that even though I would have needed it for smearing the bread with b.u.t.ter and jam, the knife was missing. He'd taken it.

Fine, I'd find another weapon. I lifted my gaze to the top of the wardrobe. First I saw the folded cable, and then the ultimate weapon-an iron. Hard, solid metal. If I used it right and fast enough, I could give him a deadly blow to the head or kill him, if forced to go that far.

In the end I sat cross-legged on the bed, surrounded by the iron, the iron rod, a shoe, the vase, a bottle. If one weapon failed me, I'd have another within reach.

Now that I was ready for him, all I could do was wait. But an hour and then two went by and no one came to my door. Now I was hungry and my bladder was filling, but I was just too afraid to move from the bed where I had the perfect view of the front door. I wouldn't want him to catch me in a moment of weakness. Sitting on the toilet would definitely be one.

Finally, at five p.m., the sky beyond the window started to darken and my leg muscles had cramped from sitting too long in one position. My bladder was on the verge of bursting and hunger twisted my stomach.

Jude didn't show up. What was he waiting for? Was he waiting for me to leave the room before he struck? I wouldn't give him that satisfaction.

My basic needs finally won, and forced me to move away from my weapons. I picked up the rod, bringing it with me to the toilet, peeing with relief. Then I went to pick up the tray from the table at the window where I'd put it earlier. As if I hadn't eaten for a week, I wolfed down the breakfast that Mrs. Drawbridge had brought me in the morning. I didn't care that it had been on the floor, and G.o.d knew what was attached to it. I didn't care that the oil on the sausages had congealed or that the sausages were covered in jam. Nor did I care that the bread was in pieces. Her food all went to the same place. No matter how it looked when it traveled there, it would all end up looking the same.

I had known hunger in my life before, but this was the best meal I had ever eaten. When I was done, the plate was wiped clean.

At nine p.m. I climbed under the bed covers and placed my weapons strategically next to me under the sheets, on both sides of my body. If he entered, I would take him by surprise. I would fool him into thinking I was helpless so he could let his guard down. Then I'd strike.

The clock on the wall above the front door finally struck midnight and my eyes started to drift shut. No Jude.

I wrestled with sleep a while longer, but I eventually fell asleep against my will.

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE.

He was in the room. Even with my eyes closed, I knew.

I wasn't dreaming. I could smell him, feel his heat, and sense his fury. He had managed to sneak in while I was asleep, and I hadn't even heard a thing. I bit my bottom lip, and opened my eyes.

Through the moonlight s.h.i.+ning through the curtains, he sat like a shadow next to me on the bed.

Trying not to panic, I searched my foggy mind for a solution. I could scream, I thought, but he was close enough to shut me up. Then I remembered my weapons and as quietly as I could manage, I ran the palm of my left hand along one side of me and brought my right hand down the other. Nothing but the feel of cotton.

"Looking for something?" He turned his head and gazed down at me. "You must be really stupid to think you can do anything to me."

I froze. My heart started to thump so hard it hurt, as if I had just run a marathon. I actually was, trying to escape without moving. "Jude." My voice was a whisper in the dark.

Like a bolt of lightning, he shot out a hand and grabbed a fistful of my hair, yanked me hard toward him. "You little b.i.t.c.h." Words and spit hit my face. "Did you really think you could run from me? You had the guts to pull this s.h.i.+t after everything I did for you?"

I let out a squeak, and moved upward to try to lessen the familiar pain, but he was pulling so hard it felt as if my scalp would just let go of my hair.

"Jude, you ... you're hurting me." I covered his hand with mine and tried to uncurl his fingers. I was no match for him. He only tugged harder until I felt pins and needles of pain in my face.

He laughed. "You think this is pain?" With his other hand, he slapped me across the face so hard my vision blurred momentarily. "Wait till I'm done with you, you little piece of s.h.i.+t. You dirty f.u.c.kin' wh.o.r.e." He drew me to him and wrapped a hand around my mouth and nose. I thrashed and tried to pull away, but he was too strong.

His hand was soft against my skin. No, I thought as I started to feel fuzzy. No, that wasn't his palm. He was holding something to my mouth. A rag. When I realized what he was doing, I tried to struggle some more, but whatever he was using to knock me out was too strong. Energy drained out of my body and within seconds, my world went black. My last wish was that he should just go ahead and kill me.

CHAPTER THIRTY.

Darkness. Everywhere.

I was awake but unable to open my eyes. I tried, but something tight pressed against them. I pushed through my fuzzy thoughts until I figured out what it was. A blindfold. I tried to use my hands to remove it. They wouldn't move. They were tied behind my back and so numb I almost couldn't feel them. I tried to turn from my stomach to my side, only to realize that my feet were tied too. Whatever bound them dug painfully into the flesh on my ankles.

Sheer black fright clutched my heart. A scream built up inside my throat, but it didn't leave my lips because something was stuffed into my mouth.

Gripped by the desire to escape, I writhed around, my cheek rubbing against a hard, velvety surface.

Where was I? What had happened? Focus, Haley. Think.

As my last memories returned to me, my body collapsed.

Jude had found me.

From behind the blindfold, I closed my eyes and gritted my teeth, trying to ignore the pain that slashed my wrists and ankles.

He had found me just as I'd known he would. And now, he had stuffed me into a small s.p.a.ce that smelled of alcohol and leather. Oh my G.o.d, what if I was inside a coffin about to be buried alive? I screamed from within but only groaning sounds could be heard. I stopped and listened. What I thought were groans from me were in fact a rumbling from underneath me.

Other sounds started to filter through the blindfold covering my ears. Someone shouting from a distance, a car honking, music blasting, sirens. Both relief and dread swept through me. Relief that I wasn't in a coffin or six feet under, but in a car, perhaps in the trunk. Fear that he was probably driving me back to Madison flooded my mind. Was he going to finish me off?

Determined to free myself somehow, I thrashed around. The idea of being stuffed into the trunk of a car suddenly cut off my air supply, and I started to grapple for air. Oh G.o.d, please someone save me.

Pooling together the little strength I had, I kicked both feet into the hard surface under them, over and over, wis.h.i.+ng someone would hear something and rescue me. My struggles only caused me more pain.

Panting, I relaxed and rested my forehead against the velvet floor. The area around my eyes warmed as hot tears soaked the blindfold. Through the pauses in my sobs, I heard the rumbling stop. I froze.

My heart thumped in my ears as I listened to a car door opening and then slamming shut, the sound of heavy boots, a click and then a whoosh. I lifted my head and turned upward. Fresh air rushed into my lungs and I drank it in greedily. I laid my head back down and rubbed my face against the surface, trying but failing to remove the blindfold without my hands.

"Welcome back," he said. His voice had a dangerous note to it. "The drug I injected you with didn't disappoint. Hope you enjoyed your sleep. It was a long drive from Serendipity."

The cloth was yanked out of my mouth and I ran my tongue around the inside to moisten it. "What ... what are you going to do to me?" I said when I found my words, my eyes welling again.

"You'll find out soon enough." His hands slipped around me, and then I was lifted into his arms. From underneath his clothes, his heart pounded harder with each step he took. His evil heart.

"Jude, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. Please don't hurt me." I paused and gulped in air. "I'll do anything you want. I swear it this time."

He didn't respond. Instead, he tossed me over his shoulder and blood rushed to my hanging head.

My body shook uncontrollably as I listened to him unlocking the door and twisting the handle. Sounds I knew too well.

The door slammed and the air around me changed. It cooled my skin and reeked of leather, musk, and evil. He had brought me back to my gilded cage.

More doors opened and shut. Then the air changed suddenly, from cool to frigid.

I was still getting used to the temperature when he threw me off his shoulders and I landed on the hard floor, on my hands. Pain shot up one of my left fingers to my wrist. I gritted my teeth to control it, but that didn't help. As if it weren't bad enough, a hard kick came into contact with my stomach, driving its contents up my throat. I gagged, and on reflex, I curled up into a ball, both to ease the pain and to protect myself. The next kick landed on my face just above my left eye. A bolt of lightning shot upward to my brain. My scream split the silence, the sound deafening even in my own ears. Another kick, then another made me shut up and whimper instead.

He grabbed a fistful of my hair and lifted me to my feet. I was in too much pain to do anything but sob as I swayed. Since my feet were bound, if it weren't for him holding me upright, I'd have fallen right back to the floor.

The blindfold was suddenly yanked off, and I tried to blink. The pain in my eye stopped me in my tracks. I tried again in slow motion.

Panic welled up inside me when I failed to see anything but darkness. Had the drug he knocked me out with made me blind?

It took a heartbeat for me to realize that I wasn't blind. We were inside a dark room.

Although I couldn't see Jude, I could hear him breathe, his alcohol-laced breath hot in my face.

"I've been good to you, Haley. I've f.u.c.kin' adored you." His voice was just as gloomy and heavy as the darkness around us. "Yet you betrayed me. Now I'm going to show you what I do to people who deceive me." He let me go and I dropped to the floor. Before I landed, I balled my fists in time to avoid more damage to my fingers.

All of a sudden, blinding light flooded the room, hurting my eyes. The room was s.p.a.cious, with white-washed walls, and completely empty from ceiling to floor, a perfect cell.

As he approached me again, he reached into his jeans pocket-I'd never seen him in jeans before-and pulled out a pen knife. On reflex, I kicked the heels of my feet against the floor in an effort to back away from him. But he shot out a hand and grabbed me by my clothes. He rolled me around to my stomach and I heard a snip. My arms fell free, but I could still feel the aches in my wrists from being bound for too long. When he cut the rope binding my feet together, I stretched my legs and cried out as my cramped muscles screamed with pain.

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE.

I sat in the center of the room, shaking with fear. He leaned against what looked like a wooden sliding door, watching me with piercing eyes, and it finally dawned on me where I must be. It could only be the room I'd discovered the day I raided the safe for money. The day I still believed in hope.

After staring at me for a long time without saying a word or even blinking, he finally got up and left the room. Before he slid the door shut, I caught a glimpse of his office. I was right. He was keeping me in his secret room.

Gathering all the energy I had left, which wasn't much, and wincing with each move, I crawled to the door and clawed my way up. I pushed on both ends, and pushed against it. It wouldn't budge. Realizing that there must have been a hidden locking mechanism, I crumpled to the floor in a sobbing heap, sweat, snot, and tears mixing on my face.

When he returned ten or fifteen minutes later, I didn't lift my eyes, just laid there, my cheek against the cold floor.

I groaned as he pushed me hard with his foot, away from the entrance and back to the center of the room. Then he dropped something next to my head.

I opened one eye, the one that wasn't swollen shut, and saw a small slice of pizza with a thin, white film coating it, ice. He was offering me frozen pizza? What kind of cruel person did that? My stomach groaned, reminding me that I was not in the position to be picky. I was in an eat-or-starve situation.

He lowered something else next to my head. I didn't need to touch the mug to know it was filled with hot water. Maybe for tea, but where was the tea bag? I felt the heat and watched steam curling upward.

I struggled to sit up while he towered over me. Then I stretched my shaking hand toward the pizza. Before my fingers touched it, he walked away and flicked off the light, sudden darkness falling over the room. I paused and held my breath, waiting for him to attack me again. He didn't. Instead I heard the door slide shut. I waited a few heartbeats, listened to his footsteps on the other side of the door. He was gone. Relief flooded my body.

Swallowing the tears flooding my throat, I fumbled carefully along the floor, in search of the pizza. My hand came into contact with something hot and just as I realized what had happened, scorching pain flared across the surface of my skin. I screamed out and pulled my hand to my chest, eyes shut, teeth clenched. I scooted away and bit my lip.

That couldn't have been hot water in that mug. Hot water scalded, but not like that. It had to be something else. Something hot and slippery. Oil? The pain was so excruciating, my appet.i.te disappeared. He knew. He had switched off the light in the hope that I'd knock over the mug and burn myself. Mission accomplished.

Crying softly, and with both hands now injured, I curled up in a ball and wished for death. I was now Jude's prisoner. What I had before with him had been at least a bit better compared to what I was now going through. How long would he hold me prisoner? Until he killed me?

A while later, just as my eyes were closing shut with exhaustion and defeat, I heard a click and the door slide open again. He switched on the blinding light again. I didn't turn to look at him, just laid there hugging my thumping hand, staring up at the single light bulb hanging from the ceiling, swaying lightly. He had me right where he wanted me. He had crushed me.

"Stand up," he said, no emotion in his voice whatsoever.

It took a long time, but I did as I was told. My legs were so weak I prayed they didn't give in and give him an excuse to strike me.