Over His Knee, Part Three by Hannah Ford

Chapter 4

LILLIANA

I stay there on my knees for a moment, not sure what to do. I get to my feet slowly.

Now that the endorphins and adrenaline are beginning to dissipate, I’m starting to feel the pain and soreness he’s inflicted on my body.

I stand up gingerly, rubbing the marks on my wrists where the cuffs cut into my skin.

I make my way to the door, the cold of the room now even more pronounced against my naked body, and I wish I had a robe or something to cover myself.

I reach the door and turn the handle. Locked.

I press my hand against the sensor, the way I’ve seen Grayson do, but it burns red. I try it again.

Red.

Panic begins to well up inside of me.

Surely he hasn’t locked me in here.

I pound on the door. “Hey!” I scream. “Hey! The door is locked!” I jiggle the handle again and press the sensor over and over.

“You can’t just leave me in here!” But a second later, it becomes clear that he can, and he has.

* * *

The door doesn’t unlock until early the next morning, hours after I’ve wrapped myself in the comforter that lays on the bed and fallen into a fitful sleep.

When I wake up, the light on the door sensor glows green, and I scramble out of bed.

The door opens, revealing an empty, silent apartment.

On the table is a carafe of coffee, cream and sugar in china bowls, a spread of fresh cut fruit, bagels and cream cheese. It looks like a picture you’d see in a movie, or something you’d get from room service at a fancy hotel.

There’s a robe hanging over one of the chairs, and I grab it and pull it on, tying the sash at my waist.

Also on the table is my purse – presumably picked up from my apartment last night, by the unnamed woman with the British accent, as Paisley had told me in her text – and next to that, a note.

Lilliana –

You will find everything you need in the bedroom and bathroom. A car will pick you up for the courthouse at 9 am. Please be prompt.

~G

There’s no other explanation. No sorry for locking you in that room all night. No are you okay? No call me to discuss.

Nothing.

I stare at the note in front of me, wondering what the hell I’m supposed to do now.

Obviously I can never see him again.

I don’t care how rich and powerful and gorgeous he is, this is some seriously fucked up shit.

And yet…something about the way he looked at me last night –

Stop,I tell myself. No. The was nothing in the way he looked at you last night. You’re just a magnet for fucked up people. First Jeremy, and now Grayson.

I will take a shower.

I will get ready for the courthouse.

I will let Grayson’s lawyer, Kovax, assist me with filing a restraining order against Jeremy.

And then I will never see Grayson Carlisle again.