Cruel Control by Candace Wondrak

Chapter One – Juliet

When you spent all your time alone, stuck in the same place, your mind ran away from you. When you sat just outside the reach of the sun, wondering if you’d ever feel its unbridled heat on your skin, your daydreams took over. I was a good girl. I listened to Daddy, and yet, was my mind sane? Did I ever want to shed the invisible shackles on my body and run outside, go wherever I wanted and do whatever I wanted?

Daddy would want me to say no, but I knew the truth, and that was why I kept it tucked away, hidden in the darkest parts of my head. Only in my dreams could I truly be free.

I couldn’t remember my mom anymore; she’d died so long ago, and Daddy had gotten rid of her face in the house. We’d moved since then, of course, but I still wondered how different things would be if she was still alive.

Would I be stuck in this house? Would I be alone so often, while Daddy was away, wishing I wasn’t? Would I want things I could never have?

I often wondered what it was like, for those people out there who lived what I called a normal life. The kids who went to school, the ones who were going to college now. I was eighteen; I graduated my online school a few months back, but when I’d brought up college, showed Daddy the brochures we’d gotten in the mail, all he’d done was give me a disappointed look and tell me I shouldn’t have gone out to the mailbox.

I was a prisoner here, you see, only Daddy never told me why. I could only go out in the backyard when he was home, when he could watch over me. I’d tried to sneak out once, years ago, back when I was feeling rambunctious like the young teenager I was… but he’d found me, caught me, and dragged me back home, giving me a lecture that the world wasn’t a safe place for a sweet thing like me.

Was I sweet? Was I innocent? I didn’t know the answers to those questions. Wouldn’t a sweet and innocent girl blindly follow what her father told her? I did, yes, but in my mind I still entertained ideas of a different life. Daddy would be so saddened if he could read my thoughts.

Speaking of Daddy, he should be getting back anytime now. I sat on the couch in the living room, watching the TV—but not really watching it. It was on the news, and the news anchors were talking with a behavioral specialist, someone who spent their entire lives chasing the devils of this world.

Of which there were many, the Hillside Stalker the most recent.

I sat, half-paying attention, while my other half kept glancing to my right, toward the window that overlooked the front yard. I kept expecting Daddy’s headlights to turn into the driveway, for his familiar car to pull up… but he wasn’t home yet. The house was mine and mine alone.

When I turned my attention back to the television, the news segment had gone to a commercial. It did not surprise me the national news was spending most of its half-hour time slot talking about the newest killer stalking the streets of America. With how good technology was, everyone always thought serial killers were a thing of the past, but they weren’t. They were your neighbors, your family members, the ones who you never saw coming. That was their gift.

I never understood the need to hurt someone else, but then, I supposed I didn’t really have much in life to compare anything to, being stuck here all the time. I never wanted to hurt Daddy; I wanted to be a good girl, a good daughter, and that meant listening to him. It also meant never speaking to anyone else out there, never learning the true nature of the people in the world.

From what I could see on the news, people were mostly cruel, although sometimes they weren’t.

Daddy was usually home by dinner, but tonight I had to make myself something in the microwave, swallow it down dutifully, and then clean up by myself. I went upstairs and showered, taking my time in the steamy room. When I actually went to bed, it was almost nine o’clock, and he still wasn’t back.

I lay there under the sheets, staring at the black ceiling above me. I hoped Daddy was okay; his work often took him all over the place. He had friends in high places, too. I wasn’t sure what he did, for he was always tight-lipped about it, but I knew it had to bring in enough money to pay for this house and all the bills that came with it.

Sleep was slow to come to me, and when it did, I did not dream. Instead, my mind came alive with a memory. A memory of a time a few years ago, when I’d been a wide-eyed sixteen-year-old girl, breathing air that, finally, was not in this house.

I’d all but begged Daddy to take me with him. It wasn’t a job from what I understood; more like a little party. Although, I hesitated to call it a party with what we had to wear. I had on my fanciest dress, a knee-length thing with black tights on underneath, flats on my feet. The fabric came up to my neck, tied behind it. I’d taken my blonde hair and curled it a bit, gave its length some waves.

Daddy looked handsome, too. He wore a dark grey suit, something I couldn’t remember ever seeing him in. He was just twenty years older than me, but I knew taking care of me by himself was hard. He had wrinkles around his green eyes, a bit of grey in his light brown hair. Neither of which I inherited from him. I owed my looks to my mom.

The night sky above us was full of stars, entire galaxies whispering invisible promises. So much space out there, so much space here, on earth—space Daddy never wanted to let me run off into.

But tonight? Tonight, things were different. Tonight, things would be better. I was beyond excited, and I could not wipe the smile from my face as we drove along, to a city called Midpark.

I glanced at Daddy, at his stiff figure. Honestly, I’d been surprised when he agreed to take me along with him to this party. He never wanted me to leave the house, but I think every so often he grew worried that I’d try to run away again if I didn’t get a breath of fresh air every now and then, under his supervision.

I couldn’t run away. How could I? Daddy was all I had in this world. There was no one else out there for me. That’s what I told myself, anyway.

Daddy looked strained. After a long while, he glanced at me, his lips frowning somewhat. “Do not, under any circumstances, leave my side tonight. Is that understood?” I knew he meant it; if I did not listen to him, things would not go so well for me back home. Instead of being stuck in a house, I’d be stuck in my room.

Being in such a small space, for days on end, only allowed to leave to go to the bathroom, it was not what I’d call a fun time. It could make you go mad, if you weren’t careful.

“Yes, Daddy,” I whispered, giving him a smile. My legs felt weird. I didn’t want to wear the tights underneath the dress, but he’d told me to, so I added them to my outfit. Where we were going, he’d said, I was to look presentable and not like a whore.

I didn’t think I looked like a whore in the dress without tights, but Daddy was always so old-fashioned when it came to those things.

Midpark, as it turned out, was a huge city, with equally huge mansions. Anyone who lived here had money, more money than they probably knew what to do with. I couldn’t even imagine having that much money, although I figured those mansions probably could be just as much a prison as our house was.

Not that I blamed Daddy for keeping me inside. The world could be an awful place, and it would swallow me up. At least, that’s always been what he’d told me. After years of listening to him, after listening to only him, how could I view his words as anything other than true?

Our destination was one of the mansions. The front gate was open, and we drove in a line of cars, right up to the front door, where valets were helping people out and handing them masks in exchange for their car keys.

Masks. My breath caught in my throat as we neared the front of the line. This was not just a party. It was a masquerade ball, for goodness sake. I could not stop myself from being excited. How many movies had I seen with dances at high schools that involved masquerades? It was always where the main girl stumbled upon her Prince Charming—her true love.

I wasn’t stupid enough to believe I’d stumble upon anyone here like that, but sometimes the daydreams were what kept me going.

Oh, I’d never tell Daddy, for he’d scowl and call me a disappointment, along with a slut or some other word like that, but I did often wonder if I’d meet a boy who’d sweep me off my feet. Someone who I could see my forever with.

Did other girls think about things like that too, or was I the only one? Maybe Prince Charmings were not all they were cracked up to be.

Daddy put the car in park, leaving the key in the ignition when we reached the front of the line. I was in the process of getting out and gazing up at the tall, impressive mansion before me while he hurried around the car to stand at my side. “I left the key in the car,” he told the valet, and the valet nodded, giving him two masks.

One black, one white.

As Daddy put his arm around mine, leading us up to the grand front door, he leaned down and whispered into my ear, “Black or white?” He was going to let me choose? I found that odd, and I opened my mouth, about to answer, but then he finished, answering himself: “The white, of course. The white for my beautiful angel.”

I took the white mask from him as we stopped near the front door. A man stood there, dressed in all black, white gloves on his hands. “Masks must remain on for the entire length of the party,” he said, and together, Daddy and I put on our masks.

I could not fight the crack in my smile. I didn’t want the white one. I wanted the black one. But Daddy was probably right; white suited me much better than black.

Once our masks were on, the man opened the door for us, and we were ushered inside. The front vestibule of the house was immaculate, with tall ceilings and paintings that seemed almost out of their own time. We were ushered through the house, and Daddy never once released his hold on my arm. I wondered if he would really keep a hold on me the entire night. Kind of embarrassing… not like I would ever see any of these strangers again, though.

Still, it would be nice to pretend my prince was here somewhere, waiting for a strike of fate to meet me, for everything to change in the blink of an eye. The whirlwind of a romance that would happen shortly after, the fluttery feeling in my gut I would get anytime he looked at me. I’d watched enough sappy movies and TV shows to know the clichés and to want them for myself.

Was that so wrong?

We made it to what looked like a grand ballroom, and I sucked in a breath, taking in the sparkling chandeliers on the ceiling, the dozens if not hundreds of people crammed in here, all wearing clothes much fancier than mine, some with what looked like hand-painted masks. Some men and women held glasses, servers weaving through the throngs of people, holding trays of what had to be champagne or some other sparkling drink.

It was all so much. So much, and I loved it. This, I knew, was a night I would remember forever. Forever and a day. This was also a night I never wanted to end. Let me pretend to be someone else, if only for a single night.

One of the servers approached us, wordlessly offering us glasses. Daddy shook his head, and I remained silent, even though I was curious as to what it tasted like. Sometimes I found myself too curious for my own good; it was almost like being sheltered to a ridiculous amount led me to wonder just what the dark side of life was like.

“Who are these people?” I asked, glancing around at them all. Every single one of them looked to have money flowing out of every orifice. Not normal people; I knew that much. “How do you know them?” I looked at Daddy, wanting answers. I think, with everything, I deserved them.

“Most of them I don’t know,” he told me, giving me a slight smile. All I could see, besides the mask, was the lower half of his face. His black mask was a plain thing, flat and smooth, simple in its design, much like mine.

A man walked toward us, and he extended a hand toward Daddy. Daddy finally unhooked his arm from me, only to shake the man’s hand. I took the opportunity to take a single step away from him, so it would be harder for him to take the same position with me again.

It wasn’t like I wanted to be attached to his hips all night. I wanted my prince, and even though I might not find him here, amongst all these older, rich folk, I liked to imagine I would.

“Fred Osborne,” the man started, grinning. He wore a rabbit mask, its ears painted gold. “Didn’t think I’d see you here.”

Daddy shrugged. “I’m here on business, I’m afraid.”

“Ah, right, right. Of course you are.” Behind his rabbit mask, the man’s eyes fell to me, and he appraised me silently. “Your wife?” He went to offer me his hand.

“My daughter,” Daddy corrected him, and after a quick nod from him, I took the man’s outstretched hand and shook it once. His grip was slimy, almost. I didn’t like him. I decided it right then: I didn’t like this man at all.

After shaking my hand, the man gestured for someone else to come over—a woman whose black hair was curled, its tendrils pinned to the back of her head. She had diamonds on her neck and fingers, and as she came over, she nearly pushed me out of the way, all to stand at the man’s side.

“This is Fred Osborne, the man I told you about. He helped us with our little… problem.” He put an unnatural pause there, and I couldn’t quite place why.

The woman smiled a million-dollar smile, turning those charms onto Daddy. “Oh, yes, how wonderful! I’m so glad to finally put a face to the name—well, sort of.” And then she laughed, like she’d just made the world’s funniest joke.

I didn’t find it funny, and the way they were talking made me wonder just what Daddy did for these people.

Daddy didn’t know everyone, but he did know a lot of them. So many people came up to him, in fact, I was blocked out. He was like the popular kid, surrounded by fans, for whatever reason. They whispered amongst themselves, laughing, making jokes and saying things I didn’t understand.

Something in my gut told me whatever they laughed at wasn’t right, though. Something innate, something I didn’t dare try to explain.

I stood there, near Daddy, for what felt like forever, and then I realized this might be my chance to get away, if only for a little bit. So, while Daddy was busy with his rich fans, I glanced around the ballroom and slunk away, moving to the outskirts of the big, spacious room.

It was purely accidental, but I stumbled upon a door that had been fixed open, a door that led right outside, into the somewhat chilly night, and I decided to take a step outside. Why not? It was obvious my prince was not here.

My arms were chilled by the night air, but I didn’t let it stop me. Inside, there were too many people. It was stifling, almost, choking and too hot. Plus, Daddy was distracted, so I’d take the moment of freedom while I could. At home, I got no such thing.

I walked into a garden, pushing away from the house, a pebbled pathway beneath my feet. I walked until the stone ended, until I gazed out at a well-manicured lawn just beyond the garden. The moon was almost full, hanging quite low in the sky, its silver moonlight illuminating everything with an otherworldly glow.

Excessively huge house aside, the yard was pretty. So much bigger than what we had, back at home. We lived a few hours away, and I couldn’t stop myself from wondering how Daddy knew these people. What problems did he help them with? Was that why he was gone for a week or more sometimes? He was here, in Midpark, working for these rich people?

“A girl like you shouldn’t be out here alone,” a low, serious voice entered my ears, and I spun to view its owner. My spine snapped straight of its own accord, the breath in my lungs suddenly too heavy.

A man stood a few feet from me, hands in his pockets, wearing a dark black suit and a matching black tie. He was tall, well over six feet, with wide, strong shoulders and a stance that, although it was at ease, looked as if it could crack and fade into aggression at any given moment. His hair was short and black, moonlight falling upon his features, the eyes set just above his square jaw a pitch-black hue. The mask on his face clung to just over half; mostly on the right side of it along with his nose and the area around his eyes.

And his mask was all black, just like Daddy’s, although I’d be silly to ever compare them together. This man was not Daddy. He was a stranger to me, and I knew it in my heart immediately: this man was not my Prince Charming.

He was the opposite.

“Especially in a place like this,” he went on, cocking his head as he studied me, taking a single step closer. He stopped when he stood four feet from me, and I had the strange urge to back up, to put more distance between us.

I did not know this man, but I knew, deep down, he was capable of so much. I did not trust him.

My voice almost didn’t come out, and I sounded downright frightened, like a deer in headlights, “What’s that supposed to mean?”

His lips thinned into a frown, and he took yet another step closer. I wished he would stop, wished I could gather myself to tell him not to get any nearer, but I was paralyzed, as if I knew, no matter what I said or did, this man would do whatever the heck he wanted.

“It means,” he spoke, his voice rough and wild but restrained at the same time, the kind of voice that both soothed you and choked you simultaneously, “that a little thing like you won’t last long here.”

I wanted to say I wasn’t little, but since my head made it to his chest… I felt very small, suddenly. Very small and very weak because, with the man’s nearness, I could see just how big he was beneath that suit. Strong in every way. So I said nothing.

My silence must’ve amused him, for his frown lessened. I could not imagine that mouth curling into a smile, and I didn’t even know the man. He was innately terrifying, commanding my full attention no matter what he said or did.

One of his hands left his pocket, and I saw a flash of a watch beneath his sleeve on his left wrist. His hand went for my face, and I was frozen in place as he gently took off my mask, revealing my face to him even though we’d been told masks had to stay on while we were here.

That said, somehow I couldn’t find it in me to tell this stranger no, to pull away from him. It seemed like an impossible feat.

As he held onto my mask, he gazed down at me so intently, so intensely, I blurted out, “My dad’s just inside—” My voice caught in the back of my throat when the man started to circle me like a predator would.

“I know,” his voice came out deadly, like knives in and of itself. “I was the one who invited him here, and I instructed him to bring you.”

What? That… that didn’t make any sense, did it?

I stared at the man’s dark eyes once he finished circling me, once he stood before me, clutching my mask to his side. “What does that mean? Why? Who are you?” The questions left me one after another, and I found I could not have sounded more terrified if I’d tried. This man… I didn’t feel safe here with him. I didn’t like how I felt my heart in my throat, every nerve in my body screaming for me to get the heck away from him.

“It means, Juliet, there are things out of your control.” His dark eyes leered at me from his towering height, and never before in my life had I felt smaller, even when Daddy was mad at me. Daddy had nothing on this man, whoever he was. “I had to see for myself, to make sure I was correct in my assumption—and, unfortunately for the both of us, I was.”

I had no idea what he was talking about, or how the heck he knew my name. He knew Daddy; did Daddy tell him about me? Suddenly, I regretted wishing for a Prince Charming. That’s not what this man was. No, he was the farthest thing from it. The dark against the light. Danger molded into a man.

A monster. A devil. A man who would never be a prince.

“And as for my name,” he went on, slow to offer me my mask, which I made no moves to take, “it’s Markus Scott.” The name sent a shiver up my spine, and I fought the uneasy feeling rising in my gut.

Markus Scott. Somehow, even though I didn’t know him, I knew I would. I knew, right then, everything was about to change. Something deep within me registered it, and with the unwavering intensity he radiated, I took my mask back from him, my fingers brushing against his.

So warm. His skin was so warm.

I met his dark stare once more, unable to look away. Like an insect caught in a spider’s web, this Markus Scott had me. Come ruin or doom, it didn’t matter. I could not pull myself away from this stranger if I tried.

And I didn’t try, because I knew someone like him never let his prey go.

“I have the feeling you and I will be seeing each other again,” he whispered, and I fought the urge to swallow. “Be safe out there. The worst monsters in the world are the ones we let close to us.” His gaze fell to my feet, slow to draw their way up my body, taking in the way I held the mask against my stomach like a small shield.

I wasn’t so angry about being forced to wear the tights anymore, let’s just say.

And what in the world did he mean by that? If I had a say, I would never see him again for as long as I lived. I almost told him that too, but before I got the nerve, he turned and walked away, leaving me alone out here, with nothing but the wind at my back and the moon above me.

I watched him go, memorized the figure of his retreat. A man like that, somehow I knew he hardly ever was the one to walk away. Not sure what that said about this situation, but I was as clueless as I’d ever been.

That man… Markus Scott. He was so sure we’d see each other again, but I didn’t want to. I never wanted to lay eyes on that man ever again.

Daddy had been pissed at me for leaving his side during the night of the party, and when we got back to the house, he locked me in my room, told me it was for my own good. I never told him that I’d met a man named Markus Scott, nor what he said to me. Sometimes I wondered if having a secret from him was smart, but Markus… I couldn’t say why, but I wanted him to be my secret.

Two years had passed since that night at the party. Two years since meeting Markus. I didn’t want him to be right, of course; I didn’t want to meet him again. But did that stop my mind from drifting off to him every now and then, trying to picture what his face was like beneath that mask?

Was he a handsome man, at least? He had to be much older than me—at least ten years. There was a maturity about him you just didn’t have when you were younger, not to mention the absolute strength he carried, his intense demeanor and all that.

I often remembered what he’d told me that night, that the worst monsters were the ones we let close, and I wondered what in the world he’d meant by it. Had he been talking about Daddy? That was the only explanation I could come up with, even after two years.

Daddy could be cruel, but he did what was best for me. I loved him. He never hurt me. Locking me up in my room, forcing me to stay in this house—it wasn’t so bad. I was all he had, really, so I couldn’t blame him for not wanting me to go to college and start my own life. He had nothing, and I wouldn’t leave his side, even if I was curious about what my life could be.

I rolled beneath the sheets, not wanting to get up just yet, wishing I could go back to sleep and dream of that night again. It was strange. I never wanted to see that Markus again, but it was like my mind kept coming back to him, time and time again, like the man had some sort of invisible control over me.

That was crazy, wasn’t it?

I let out a soft groan when I knew it was time to get myself up. I should check to see if Daddy got home; I was a heavy sleeper, and I’d heard many stories about him coming home and telling me goodnight and me not even remembering the next morning.

Sitting up, eyes still closed, I stretched and yawned. If there was one thing that got to me, it was that mornings always seemed to come too soon. You couldn’t get ready for them, even if you tried.

I flung my legs out of bed, slow to open my eyes. I was seconds from getting up when I saw that I was not alone in my room. A man stood near the window, arms folded, a smile on his face as he watched me.

And it was not Daddy.

I froze, meeting the guy’s green eyes. Near my age, he had to be, with messy brown hair and a clean-shaven face. Definitely not the Markus of my dreams, but a stranger who was somehow in my house and in my room. A stranger who’d been watching me sleep, apparently.

“Hey there, sleepyhead,” the guy spoke, still smiling at me. He was cute, but that didn’t change the fact that he was here and he shouldn’t be. He had clean-pressed clothes on, along with a pair of short leather gloves. “This will go a lot smoother if you don’t try to run—”

I got up, and I did just that: I ran to my bedroom door, flinging it open, seconds from throwing myself in the hall when I felt a strong arm wrap about my midsection and pull me back. I was spun, my back slammed against the door as he used my body to shut it once more. He pinned his body to mine, using his strength as an unfair advantage.

“I said if you don’t run,” he repeated, still grinning ear to ear as if I’d done the most hilarious thing ever.

I tried to hit him, sought to struggle, but within a few moments, he held both of my wrists back, and I could do nothing but stare into those pretty green eyes and wonder what nightmare I’d woken up into.

“Let me go,” I whispered.

“Afraid I can’t do that,” he answered me. “I was sent here to get you, so get you I shall. Like I said, it’ll be easier if you come along willingly, but I’m not above tying you up.” He leaned his face in closer to me, and I hated the fact I felt my heart skip a beat for a reason that wasn’t sane at all.

Up close, this guy was even cuter, and having his body on me like this… didn’t exactly feel bad. How messed up was that?

“I could treat you like a princess,” he whispered into my ear, his breath hot as it bloomed across my cheek, “or I could treat you like a prisoner. What’ll it be, Juliet?”

I chose not to answer him, instead asking a shaky question, “How do you know me?” I did not at all like the fact that he somehow knew my name; I’d never met this guy in my life, not once. His was a face I would remember, a devastating kind of cute that stuck with you.

“As much as I want to tell you the answers, because I know you deserve them,” he paused, his face once again before mine, his lips no longer dangerously close to my ear. “I can’t. Someone else reserves the honor, and it isn’t me. You’ll find out soon enough I’m the lowest on the totem pole.” His green eyes sparkled in the early morning light, and I took in the fact that Daddy wasn’t busting in here to mean he was still gone.

Was this… was this related, somehow? Did Daddy know him?

“Please,” I whispered, my voice faint and fluttery. All semblance of my early morning grogginess had vanished; my rapidly beating heart having woken me right up when I realized I wasn’t alone in my bedroom. “Please, let me go. I didn’t do anything. I don’t know anything.” I had no idea who he was or why he was here, and he was tight-lipped about it, but still.

Giving a stranger the opportunity to take me to a second location seemed unwise. Second locations were where they hurt you, raped you, left you for dead—and that’s if they didn’t already kill you.

The guy gave me another smile, only this one seemed sadder. “I know,” he murmured, his grip on my wrists lessening, though his body never once let up. I could feel every part of him, every muscle in his midsection, how strong he truly was. Not overly-muscled, but lean and fit. “Trust me, we’d be doing this differently if I was in charge, but I’m not. I’m just a lowly worker bee, following the instructions of his queen—uh, his king, I mean.”

I could only stare at him, not knowing what the heck he was talking about. Bees? Why was he talking about bees? What did they have to do with this crazy situation and the fact that he was clearly trying to kidnap me?

He wanted me to go with him without a fight. If he thought I would lay down and take it, I wouldn’t. I might not be skilled in this area, but the moment he let me go, I’d find something heavy and hit him on the back of the head or something—that always seemed to knock people out on TV, and TV was just like real life, right?

Don’t answer that.

“Fine,” I agreed, hoping I seemed genuine in my relenting.

The guy stared at me for a bit, those pretty eyes of his narrowing as if he didn’t trust me. As if I was the one who’d broken into his bedroom and not vice versa. “Okay,” he said, slow to pull off me, “but no funny business. I mean it, Juliet. I don’t want to get rough with you, but I will.” Those words were like a promise, I knew, and they only made my heart beat faster.

This morning was not turning out like a normal morning, that’s for sure.

“Get dressed,” he said. “I don’t think you’ll want to meet my king bee wearing that.” His gaze dipped low, taking in my fuzzy pajamas. My fuzzy pajamas that had unicorns on them, because, yes, I was secretly still five years old.

I felt my cheeks flare up, heat growing inside due to how he stared at me. Embarrassment reared its ugly head, and I tried to shake it off, meandering to my closet and opening its doors.

“Tori would love those pajamas,” the guy went on, and with a quick glance over my shoulder, I saw him standing near the door with his arms folded over his chest, watching me. “She’s probably the only one in the house who would.”

“Oh yeah?” I spoke, still sounding quite out of breath, considering his body was no longer rubbing against mine. “Who’s Tori? Your girlfriend?” Oh, God. I should not have said that. I should’ve said something else, anything else but that.

The guy chuckled to himself, as if Tori being his girlfriend was funny. “No, she’s… well, you might meet her, depending on how it goes. She’s ten. Given who her parents are, it’s kind of funny she has a thing for pink, really—”

I had no idea what the guy was talking about, or why he was feeling so chatty, so I tuned him out. I didn’t really care what he had to say, or, you know, if he had a girlfriend. He was going to kidnap me; obviously, it didn’t matter if he was taken.

I hurriedly pulled a shirt off a hanger, dropping to my knees to pretend to dig on the floor in my closet. The closet door kind of blocked him from my view. Had to find something hard, something I could whack on his head. Catch him off guard, run… although I had no idea where to go. Calling the police wouldn’t do much since they’d take precious time to get here.

No, first thing was first. I had to escape from this guy.

The only thing I could find that maybe I could use was a hardcover Harry Potter book. Seriously, I had nothing else in my closet, nothing heavy, nothing sharp, nothing made of glass or anything like that. I was royally screwed.

I tucked the book under the shirt, slow to stand, holding it behind my back as I met the guy’s stare. I probably acted so obvious it was silly, but I blurted out, “You’re not going to watch, are you?”

This time, his grin was a dimpled one, one that sent a wave of butterflies fluttering about in my stomach. The look he gave me told me more than words ever could: he’d gladly watch me change.

I never knew whether I was attractive to the opposite sex. Daddy had a certain list of websites I could visit on the laptop, and I didn’t have a phone. It wasn’t like I could online date, or chat with the neighborhood boys. These… were not thoughts I should be having while staring at a stranger in my bedroom.

“I probably should,” he remarked, still grinning. “But I can see you’re really torn up about it. Thirty seconds should be more than you need, right?” He gave me a wink—yes, a blasted wink—before turning around and giving me his back. The guy was not going to leave my room, apparently.

I stared at his back for a few seconds, wasting that precious time as I wondered if I could really do this. Guess there was only one way to find out.

I dropped the shirt to the floor, creeping over to him as silently as I could, my bare feet on the carpet. My fingers clutched the hardback tightly, and I lifted it in the air, bringing it down on the back of his head like I’d seen in the movies and the television shows.

Except, you know, in the shows they used lamps and stuff, strangely-placed glass vases, which I didn’t have in my room. Had to work with what I had, you know?

The book came down as hard as it possibly could, and he swayed forward a bit—but he didn’t go down. He whirled on me, rubbing the back of his head and giving me a weird look. “Really?” He spoke with a shake of his head, “Is that a Harry Potter book? Did you really think you’d knock me out with a book?” And then he started to laugh, which only enraged me.

I’m doing my best here, thank you very much, random sir who’s trying to kidnap me.

Because I found his laughter rude, I hit him again with it, this time right across his cheek, like a slap. That got him to stop laughing, all right.

“Now that,” he spoke, rubbing his jaw as he slapped the book out of my hand, “hurt.” The book clattered to the ground, and his expression hardened. “I told you we could do this the easy way or the hard way. You just made your choice. Don’t blame me if you end up regretting it.” His good-natured side completely vanished as something else took its place, something dark and impossibly fast.

In the next moment, he grabbed me, spinning me around. My back slammed against his chest, and before I could speak, he wrapped an arm around my neck, pulling tight. I fought, I struggled, but I immediately grew light-headed and weak. My vision started to blur, and even though I could breathe, it felt like I wasn’t getting enough in me, like he was blocking an important vein or something.

It didn’t take long. The last thing I remembered before passing out was the feeling of his arm wrapped around me, choking me, and the sound of his steady breathing in my ear.