Finally home, I breathed a sigh of relief as I stuck my key into the highest lock. One down. I laughed to myself as I unlocked the middle lock of my door. Keep it together Chrissy. Stop being such a freak. By the time I reached the third lock I was back to my old calm self, slightly berating myself for getting so worked up over a sentence. As I opened the door I shook my head and let out a long exhausted sigh, thanking God I had made it home in one piece being as distracted I was. Until I felt a tug on my arm…
The nightmare had just begun.
My voice escaped me. I couldn’t scream for help. My limbs were jello as I allowed the intruder to lead me into my dark apartment. I silently prayed someone saw what was happening but glancing at the clock on the stove I knew that was probably not likely. 3:04 AM flashed at me. That’s something I should remember right?
“I told you the sooner you accept that you are mine, the easier your life will be. I guess we need to work on your listening skills, as well as your ability to accept the things you cannot change.”
I froze. What was going on? This was the sort of thing that happened in lifetime movies and Law and Order, not to 28 year old introverted women with a centimeter long dating history, an office job, and class in the morning.
“Mr. Ziegler, please. You’re hurting my arm.”
His grip tightened for a moment, before he slowly led me to the sit on the couch. He seemed so much bigger than he’d ever seemed to be before. His massive shoulders stretched his black tee tightly across his broad chest. At the angle I was positioned, his manhood was right at eye level. I attempted to swallow the lump in my throat.
“So Allison. Have you decided to accept your fate? Or should I bound and gag you before we leave?” he asked so nonchalantly you would think we were friends deciding what movie to watch. I noticed the large black gym bag next to my brand new 50 inch flat screen that wasn’t there when I left my apartment earlier. He was serious. Ever since I started working for Timur, the sexual tension he exhibited whenever he came close to me escalated with each passing work day. I tried hard to remain passive in his presence, always maintaining eye contact and speaking only when spoken to. I didn’t want to give him the wrong impression. Obviously my attempts at keeping our relationship professional had failed. My voice had left me, along with my ability to breath like a normal person. I was beginning to hyperventilate.
“OK Allison. Fist lesson of the day. When asked a direct question, you answer the first time. I do not repeat myself.” He grabbed my hand gently, despite the annoyance present in his demeanor, and led me to the fire window.
“The less people who see you,” he began, “the easier this will be. I don’t want anyone questioning your disappearance.” And like a sheep I followed him, quietly and quickly, as he led me down the fire stairs and into his black Jag parked in the alley.
I couldn’t stop the feeling of excitement that was trumping over my earlier feelings of fear. He opened the passenger door, buckled my seat belt for me, and walked around to the drivers side.
I had no idea of where this new path was leading me.
To be continued….