I wake the next morning with a pounding headache. Casually blinking in the beams of light from the sun that are torturing me through the large floor to ceiling windows. As I turn around taking in my unfamiliar surroundings, I notice I’m lying in a large empty bed in an empty white room. Seriously, there’s nothing in here but the bed. “Oh shit!” I shout out as tiny specs of memory return. Don’t you know better than to go home with strangers? The last thing I remember him saying. “Oh shit! I’m ‘bout to die!” I shout jumping from the bed. I go to the door furthest from the bed first, pulling and twisting the doorknob frantically but it won’t budge. My heart races not knowing what to do as I race for the remaining door. It opens. “Calm down Ronnie.” A nickname my ex used to call me. I take a breath before stepping out into the hall. You would think in my situation, I would be trapped in some dark dungeon-like hole but I’m not. It’s actually quite a nice home, but as I walk the hall there are marked shapes on the wall where pictures used to be…obviously there’s something I don’t need to know. I grab on to knobs to see what’s unlocked as I pass doors of the hall with no luck.
Finally, I find myself back where I’m familiar. The living room…and the front door. Of course I run ready to get out the house but it’s locked from the inside. “Shit.” I whisper hoping he doesn’t know I’m trying to escape his quaint fortress. Suddenly, I hear humming and the smell of bacon cooking in the kitchen. He’s in there relaxed as if he doesn’t have a captive in his home. Staring out the window, I see there’s really no place to go being in the middle of nowhere. The nearest neighbor is so far away, if I did make it out of here he would for sure catch me. I do notice my car now parked in his driveway however. He can’t possibility consider letting me live after this, he must have taken my car in case someone comes looking.
I hesitantly walk toward the kitchen scared shitless tugging at the large T-shirt I just realized he put me in. Holy crap, he’s seen me naked! Oh my god I almost fucked him in the bar bathroom. See, that’s why you don’t listen to your friends…now I’m kidnapped.
“Are you gonna come in here? Or just lurk around?” He says from the kitchen. My body shivers not wanting to be anywhere near him. If he wanted me dead, I would be. Take a breath. I slowly step into the kitchen with my head down scared to look at him. I see him place a plate of food down on the table and pull out a chair. He doesn’t wait for me to sit, instead going to the opposite side and taking his own seat before pouring two glasses of orange juice. I finally get up the strength to look at him as he sits back in his seat and gestures for me to sit. His delightful smile somewhat still there but now I fear him. I take the seat noticing he’s given me two strips of turkey bacon and scrambled eggs with lots of cheese. That plus the orange juice is something I eat every morning. How does he know? I suddenly find myself unable to breathe now realizing he’s been stalking me. “We’ll talk after you eat.” Weighing my options, it’s best for me not to piss him off, and just eat.
After eating as much as I could, he grabs our dishes and cleans up as I just sit there wondering if I’ll ever see anyone I love again. I want to know why I’m here. How long he’s been watching me? Mostly, is he going to get rid of me? “Why am I here?” I courageously blurt out. After I said it, I wish I hadn’t as he turns to face me drying his big hands. He stares at me with those brown eyes that captivated me…tricked me…last night.
“In due time.” He says. He then holds out his hand expecting me to take it, but I’m just too disgusted to touch him. I feel so…betrayed. Which is ridiculous considering I don’t know this guy…I’m the one that chose to come here. “I’m not gonna hurt you Veronica.” He says somberly. For some odd reason, I actually believe him. The fact that he’s taken me, drugged me, and is keeping me here has not changed that compelling urge to trust him. I take his hand and he leads me to a different room…with furniture. “You may shower here.” He says walking me to the bathroom. “Some clothes in there.” He points to the closet opposite the bed and walks out closing the bedroom door. Why is he treating me like an expected visitor? Of course I go through the dresser drawers and nightstands trying to find anything about him or his family, but there’s nothing. Dammit. There’s no use. I contemplate finding something to break the glass in these tall ass windows but that would make too much noise. I wouldn’t get very far at all…and I don’t know where I am. Therefore, doing what he has asked will be best.
I quickly shower wanting to get answers to my questions, and feeling obviously uneasy in my captive’s home. However, going into the closet he pointed to earlier only infuriates me. “He’s been to my house?” I whisper. I step into the walk-in closet only to find all of my own clothes, shoes and even purses. What the fuck? “Son of a bitch!” I shout too loud. He certainly heard me and I honestly don’t care at this point. The fear the paralyzed me has turned to venomous rage. I grab a pair of stretch pants and a large sweatshirt from the closet and get dressed quickly. Enraged, I march down the hall to find Luke sitting on the couch with the newspaper up covering his face.
“Yes…I’ve been to your home.” He says answering my unasked question. He folds the paper down placing it on the coffee table before standing in front of me with his hands folded behind him. For some reason he smiles at me as if this is a goddamn game. “Okay…so you’re mad.” He can’t be serious…there is something mentally wrong with him. I’ve got to get the heck out of here.
“Luke…why am I here?” I ask trying to remain calm.
“For your protection.” My protection? There’s nothing going on in my life that I would need guarding from. I lead a simplistic, drama-free life for the most part.
“You’re gonna have to elaborate.” I say confused.
“Have a seat.” He says pointing to the couch. I do as I’m told, now pretty damn sure he’s not going to kill me at least. He sits beside me and hands me the large envelope on the coffee table. “Open it.” Oh god, the last time he gave me something I was knocked unconscious. I suspiciously open the filled package and pull out a large packet clipped together. When I turn it over, there is a picture at the top that’s covered by the large black binder clip. However, I could see the name on the file clear as day…Quinton “Q” Lathan. Oh god. Just to be sure I remove the clip that’s hiding the photo…it’s him. My heart starts racing as I slowly glance back at Luke.
“Why do you have this? Who are you?” I whisper. He suddenly gets quiet and visibly agitated. I should be the one uneasy. He has a folder with information on the murder of my ex-boyfriend…well fiancé. I stand dropping the papers to the floor feeling the urge to erupt into a crying fit. “Answer me dammit!” I shout stomping my foot like an errant child.
“He’s my brother!” He shouts.
End Part Two.