Taken: A Romance Novella Page 2

  Drat.

  Keenly aware that she had run out of time, Elise reached over and flushed the toilet to announce that she was finishing up. She hadn’t even dried her hands when she heard the double tap on the door.

  The temptation to turn around and wait, to catch a look at her captor’s face was almost too much. Standing in front of the mirror, she stared at the door’s reflection, waiting, anticipating. But at the last second, as the doorknob clicked and a sliver of light from the hallway shone through, she yanked the blindfold back into place.

  Well, aren’t you the dutiful prisoner? No self-preservation at all, Elise thought with self-directed disgust.

  “You listened. I’m impressed.” A heavy hand closed around her elbow. “Saves me the trouble of doling out punishment.”

  “I would have thought you’d be disappointed by that.”

  “Maybe I am.”

  The gruff delivery sent a shiver of fear dancing down Elise’s spine. Yet, behind her veil of darkness, Elise was led back to her seat with more care than she would expect from a kidnapper. Despite the open threat, Elise was coming to believe at least one of the men had a heart, and it wasn’t hard to pinpoint which one it was. How big it was, however, remained to be seen.

  “I’ll be back.”

  “Where?” Manhandler barked at his partner.

  “To get food. All that’s in that kitchen is cobwebs, and I’m starving. You got a problem with that?”

  “We haven’t been here that long. Can’t you wait?”

  “No, I can’t.”

  There was a pause, in which Elise could hear the sound of her heart beating heavily, her blood rushing in her ears.

  “Fine,” Manhandler said with a sigh. “But keep it short and don’t make a scene.”

  “What, you think I’m gonna dance in the street or something?”

  “You’ve been a real dick lately. I don’t know what you’re going to do or say from minute to minute.”

  “Fuck off, man.” Driver clomped past, throwing open the door a moment later. “You want anything, or am I buying for myself?”

  “Just pick up enough to last a couple days. And beer.”

  “Already on the list.”

  “You need anything? Lady, you need anything?”

  Elise jolted, realized Manhandler was speaking to her. “Uh…no?” Although a chocolate bar would be nice. She tended to get a bit like those Betty White commercials when she was stressed, and this was about as high-stress as a person could get in one day.

  “Here, grab some chocolate too.”

  “I don’t need your money,” Drive said dismissively. The next thing Elise knew, the door was closed and she was alone with Manhandler.

  “How long will he be gone?” Elise ventured to ask. To be honest, she was relieved that he was gone. The tension between the men was concerning. Plus, it would give her time to try to figure out if Manhandler had the nice side she suspected he might have.

  “S’long as the weather holds…not long.”

  Elise nodded, scrambling for more words to keep the fragile conversation going. Keep him talking. Humanize yourself, she told herself. “I’ve never been outside of the city before.”

  Again, there was a prolonged silence in which she could almost feel his eyes on her. “Why are you telling me this?”

  His suspicion wasn’t unexpected. “You told your partner to pick up food to last a couple days. I figure we’re going to be here awhile, right? I just thought a little friendly chitchat might make the time go by a little faster.”

  “Well, it won’t. So sit back and be quiet.”

  “Will that get me out of here alive?”

  “That’s entirely up to you.”

  Right. Of course it was. That didn’t mean she was about to give up just yet though. “So, how long have you been in the kidnapping business?”

  One heartbeat. Two. Then a faint chuckle. “Going on four hours.” Elise’s eyebrows rose behind her blindfold. “Did that surprise you?”

  “You seemed to know what you were doing…so yeah.”

  He grunted. “You were an unexpected…development.”

  “You weren’t out trolling for women to abduct then?”

  “No.” It was one word, but the way he said it, abrupt and sharp, said it all. He wasn’t happy about it.

  “I take it this wasn’t your idea then.”

  “I see what you’re trying to do here, and it won’t work. You’re not going to turn me and my partner against each other,” he growled.

  Immediately, Elise shrank back into the cushion, unsure of how far his irritation would extend. Would he be like his partner and hit her? Judging by his behavior earlier, she didn’t think so, but one could never be too careful. “I’m just trying not to die of boredom. I didn’t mean anything by it.”

  “Sure.” After that, it got deathly quiet. Only the sound of nature and their combined breathing filling the silence. It was only when Elise began counting the steady pulse in her temple that she realized she might truly die from boredom.

  “Is there a television here?”

  “Why?”

  She shrugged. “Just thought some background noise might help pass the time.” Watching it would be even better, but that didn’t seem likely to happen.

  The chair he’d taken up creaked, and then there was the click of a remote. Soon, the cheers of some kind of sports game filled the room. Soccer. Estimating the time, she figured if she were home now, she could be watching “So You Think You Can Dance,” but she wasn’t. Because her life was one massive pile of suck. Well, soccer was better than nothing she supposed. At least there was something else to focus on rather than her breathing.

  She whispered a thanks then spent the next untold amount of time considering how terribly long her hours in captivity would feel over the course of days, because if only a few short hours felt like an eternity now? Hell, maybe death would be preferable. Elise was not known for having endless patience. She needed to move around, do things. She liked to stay active, go on walks, ride her bike, swim, and yes, shop. She was always moving, always doing something. This sitting and doing nothing, not even watching television, felt interminable.

  And that’s when the door burst open like a shotgun blast.

  “We need to get out of here!”

  Chapter Four

  “What do you mean our cover is blown?” Manhandler was in an outrage. Driver was panicking.

  Elise was secretly thrilled. If they’d been caught, she might be free sooner than she expected. Was someone already on their way to arrest them? She was excited by the prospect for about two seconds before realizing that, if someone was in fact coming to get them, she was in a really bad position. Hostage anyone?

  “I mean the news channels are covering everything. They released a description that’s spot on. And they have video surveillance of us taking her.”

  “Wait, they don’t have our faces?”

  “Not that I saw.”

  “Or our names.”

  “They didn’t mention it…”

  Within seconds, Elise saw her chance at salvation dwindle and poof into nothing.

  “So all they have is a description and I’m assuming shitty footage of the van.”

  “Yeah, I guess.”

  “Then we need to ditch the van, which we were going to do anyway. No one recognized you or made any connection while you were in town, right?”

  A town. There was a town nearby. Elise’s hopes skyrocketed again. Not that she had much confidence in forging a daring escape and living to tell about it, but it was better than nothing.

  “I don’t think so.”

  “Then we’re staying put. I don’t see any sense in running out with our guns half-cocked without solid evidence that we need to.”

  She hated that he made sense, and she sensed that Driver did too. With a huff, he said, “Help me bring the stuff in.”

  “Say please,” Manhandler said, a smile apparent in his voice.

/>   Elise almost smiled in response. She wished she knew what he looked like. His voice was just…nice. It didn’t have the same sharp edge to it that the other man’s did. His was smoother, gentler, even when he was being gruff and scary, and she found she had a difficult time being truly afraid. She had to talk herself into it, because that was the smart thing to do. Underestimating either one of them was what would get her killed, and she wasn’t dumb.

  “Not a chance in hell,” Driver said with a surprising amount of humor. Up to now, Elise hadn’t thought he was capable of being anything other than cruel and angry.

  As the men headed out, she felt one of them pause before her. She knew right away which man it was by the way the little hairs on her arms stood at attention. “Stay here and behave,” Manhandler told her. “I was being generous when I untied you. Don’t make me regret it.”

  “I won’t,” was her automatic response. And to the best of her ability, she was being honest. She wasn’t going to push her luck. Not yet, at least.

  It took one trip for the two men to bring everything in, and then there was the rustling of plastic bags and the slamming of cabinet doors. A refrigerator opening and closing. And always, the soccer game continuing to serve as background noise.

  It wasn’t long before the sizzle of food in a frying pan captured her attention, followed by the mouthwatering scent of whatever they were cooking. Elise’s stomach rumbled, and she prayed like hell that they would be kind enough to include her in their meal plans. The last thing she’d eaten was a strawberry Pop-Tart—cold—because her toaster had decided to crap out that morning, so to say she was starved was an understatement.

  Time passed by too slowly for her liking, especially with the anticipation of eating burning a hole in her gut, but she eventually heard the approach of boots on the hardwood floors, making her anticipation rise rapidly.

  I’m like one of Pavlov’s dogs, she thought idly as her mouth began to salivate.

  The cushion to her right dipped, and the sizzle of freshly cooked meat walloped her senses. The scratching of plastic on paper touched her ears. “I hope you like stir fry,” Manhandler said. “Open.”

  She did so without argument. Frankly, it didn’t matter what they cooked, as long as she got to eat. Thankfully, it was delicious. She moaned as the flavor exploded on her tongue: rice and broccoli floret and tender steak all covered in teriyaki sauce. She was in heaven.

  Moaning as she began to chew, Elise didn’t bother hiding her pleasure. There was no telling when or if she’d ever have another moment like this again, free to enjoy the simplest of pleasures in life.

  Hell, she couldn’t recall the last time she’d tasted anything so delicious. Which was probably partly due to the fact that it was a rare meal that she hadn’t had to cook for herself, and partly because it didn’t come out of a microwavable box.

  As good as those meals were, they had nothing on home cooked. Nothing.

  “Good?”

  Swallowing, she said, “Mmm, so good. You’re a great cook.”

  “I’d say thanks, but my partner is the chef. He’s a total dick—”

  “Hey, I heard that!”

  “But he knows his way around a kitchen.”

  Elise was well and truly shocked. Should she thank his slap-happy, brute of a partner, or keep her silence and pray he didn’t take that as an affront too? He seemed to leap into anger at the flick of a switch.

  “Here, have some more.”

  Thank you, sweet baby Jesus. Opening her mouth, Elise accepted the offering of food once more, allowing her moans of approval and extreme enjoyment to speak for themselves. At some point, his partner came into the room to consume his own meal in front of the television, and seeing as he didn’t yell at her or issue any threats, she figured he had found his center for the moment.

  That was a blessing in itself.

  After she was stuffed full, Elise sat back and stayed quiet while Manhandler treated himself to his own dinner, which she actually considered very thoughtful and found it was more than a little endearing. He’d seen to her care before his own. That in itself told her he was a good man. Well, at least not as bad as the situation would suggest. He had manners, values, morals—however loose they may be. It gave her a modicum of comfort to know that he wasn’t the devil incarnate.

  It could be worse, she reminded herself.

  The nightly news followed after the game ended, and Driver turned it down to a whisper, grumbling about nosey reporters and bullshit information. He seemed to be peeved about something regarding their speculation over who they were and what their motivations were. Frankly, Elise was curious to know that too, but she wasn’t about to vocalize anything.

  No, she stayed mute in her little corner of the—cabin?—and continued collecting what meager bits of information she could.

  Manhandler was quiet, aside from the gentle, repetitive creak of the chair he sat in, which she concluded must be an old rocker. Since there was nothing more to do, and she could feel the hours ticking by and her energy waning, Elise allowed her mind to run free, her focus on that little creak, creak, creak only a few feet away.

  She started with a picture of a little cabin, bathed in shadow and dappled with sunlight set against a pristine, glittering lake beyond a sloping, evergreen-covered hill. The cabin was old, rustic, with chipped green paint the same shade as the moss growing on the north side of the trees. Inside, she saw scarred hardwood floors and aged furniture dating back to the seventies. Nothing fancy, nothing new, but everything was warm and cozy, lived in, and welcoming.

  She smelled freshly-baked cookies, and when she looked to her left, she saw a man with hair the darkest shade of black that curled at the nape slowly rocking in his chair as he read the newspaper. When he heard her enter, eyes the color of honey flicked up and lit with warmth as a stunning smile that bracketed his mouth with fine crinkles spread across his face.

  He was gorgeous, lighting her insides on fire and setting her heart to racing. “You’re back early,” he said as he folded the paper neatly and set it aside. Unfolding from the chair, he rose to a great height, forcing her head back as he approached and took her face between hands that were strong and calloused.

  She found that about as sexy as she did his appearance. To Elise, there was nothing more attractive than a hardworking man with a great smile.

  “I missed you,” she replied coyly. Lifting to her toes, Elise wrapped her arms around his wide shoulders and nudged his nose with hers. “Did you miss me?”

  “Every second.” Lowering his head, his lips skimmed across hers in a soft, teasing manner, tickling the sensitive flesh.

  A giggle percolated in Elise’s chest, his playful demeanor so opposite his normally strong, brooding character. “Kiss me,” she demanded on a whisper, and just as she tasted his breath on her tongue, she felt her body begin to shake.

  “Hey.” Manhandler’s voice roused Elise from what she slowly began to realize had been a dream. One she was loath to leave behind.

  “Hmm…what? What’s going on?” she asked groggily, and for a brief moment, enveloped in absolute darkness, Elise almost forgot where she was. Her hand went to the strap of cloth covering her eyes, but her captor knocked it away.

  “No, that stays on,” he informed her. Taking her hand, he guided her to her feet. “You fell asleep. I thought you might want to go lay down in the bedroom.” It seemed he wasn’t going to wait for her answer, as he was already leading her to, she assumed, a bed.

  The sudden thought that he was taking her to a room, alone, woke Elise up faster than a bucket of ice water being dumped over her head. Digging her feet in, she pulled against his hold, which tightened considerably in response. “I’m fine. I’m awake now.”

  “What are you doing?” There was confusion in his voice, followed quickly by realization. His hold loosened, but not enough for her to break free. “I’m not going to hurt you,” he promised, his voice softer than she was used to. “If I wanted to, I would hav
e already done it. Just sleep, okay?”

  Elise hesitated, wondering how much, if any, trust she could place in him. He was her captor, and she was still blindfolded, her every movement monitored. Violence was a constant concern, and yet, she wasn’t getting that panicked feeling in her gut that should come with imminent danger. Her intuition was either taking a holiday, or it was telling her that she needn’t be worried.

  While she couldn’t understand why, Elise was inclined to feel it out and see what came next. She could get raped or murdered…or she could simply be led to a bed and catch a good night’s sleep.

  Not that anyone in their right mind could ever sleep in a hostage situation, but she was willing to try. Even now, she could feel the fingers of sleep upon her brow, her shoulders, weighing down her legs. She was exhausted, physically and mentally.

  And Manhandler had made her a promise.

  Reluctantly, Elise nodded. “Okay, but no funny business,” she warned. “I might be blindfolded, but I took self-defense. I won’t go down easy.” She had taken self-defense. Once. She’d shown up for the classes, meaning to see it through, but when she realized she’d have to be paired with strange men and over a dozen people would be watching her make a fool of herself, she’d turned around and walked right back out again. She hadn’t even called to ask for a refund. Anxiety and shyness was a bitch.

  Manhandler chuckled softly and ushered her along. “I’ll make sure to behave myself.”

  She kind of wished he wouldn’t. Which confirmed that she’d snapped and finally lost her damn mind. What kind of person became attracted to their kidnapper? It was too early for her to claim Stockholm Syndrome, so that just left insanity. Or the sex drought. She hadn’t had a close encounter of the penis variety in far too long to be healthy.