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Chapter Three
Scarlet
Beautiful Prison
Two days I spend alone in this room. How do I know this? I have watched the sun rise and set twice from my perch in this prison cell. I haven’t slept more than an hour each night and my entire body is dragging. I have, however, read four of the random thriller novels that were on the bookshelf in the corner.
As far as being a prisoner goes, I may have hit the jackpot. Three times a day full meals are delivered through the slot beside the door. I don’t mean sandwiches, these are full gourmet meals. If my captor continues to feed me this way, I am going to weigh a ton by the time I get out.
Even if this is the nicest place I have ever stayed, and the food is better than anything I have ever tasted, I can’t help the irritation that flows through me at the mere thought of Kyson. The fact that I find him attractive only pisses me off more. His dark hair, slightly stubbled chin just beneath his full lips, and the way he filled out that damn suit … I really don’t like him or my damn reaction to him. I need to figure out why the hell he has me locked up and a way to get out before I succumb to some kind of twisted Stockholm syndrome.
It doesn’t help that my dreams have become more vivid these past two nights. Every time the exhaustion drags me under, but I don’t find any peace. All I have are dreams of this man. And to make it worse, they are escalating, in a sexual nature.
The telltale sound of a key turning in a lock draws my attention to the door. Taking a deep breath I prepare myself for whoever may enter, but the moment Kyson walks into the room I know it was a waste of time.
Pasting a fake smile on my face I greet him serenely. “Hello, Kyson.” I am operating under the old saying that you can catch more flies with honey and all that.
He watches me with distrust as I stand from where I was sitting on the sofa. Returning the book I was reading to the shelf, I wait for him to make the first move.
“What are you wearing?” he asks lowly.
His gaze travels from my bare feet up my exposed legs before stopping at the hem of the green t-shirt I am wearing. I decided to try seduction as an avenue to secure my escape. I even skipped wearing underwear.
I turn and smile brightly. “These clothes were in the dresser. I assumed I could use them.” I tilt my head to study him. “Am I not supposed to?”
“Don’t play with me, Scarlet. I doubt you would like the outcome.”
“Kyson.” I sigh as I walk over to the large bed. “I am not playing with you. This is comfortable and it’s what I would be wearing if I was in my own home. Besides, I love the detergent you use, it smells divine.”
I sniff at the sleeve of the t-shirt and hear what sounds like a growling sound coming from the other side of the room. When I return my attention to Kyson, he is scrubbing a hand down his face.
“These two days were supposed to give you time to think, not plot.” Kyson glares at me.
“And why do you assume I am plotting?”
Kyson rolls his eyes before stepping closer to me. “You are half naked, in a strange place, surrounded by people you don’t know and don’t trust. What would make me think you weren’t planning something?”
I drop the facade and glare back at him. “You keep me locked up God knows where and expect me not to plot? You must be dumber than you look.” I hiss angrily.
“You’re not a prisoner,” he starts to say when I cut him off.
“The lock on the door says something else.”
“Perhaps if you let me explain,” he growls.
“I don’t want your explanation,” I shout. “I want to go home.”
I see clearly the moment he loses his temper. But it’s the venom dripping from his words that have me stunned into silence.
“You don’t have a home anymore. Your parents want nothing to do with you.”
My cheeks heat and I know what he says is the truth. I always knew my good-for-nothing parents didn’t give a shit whether I lived or died. But this … this is beyond even them.
“So let me leave. I can take care of myself.” Even I can hear the sadness and vulnerability in my voice.
“Why would I let you go when I paid good money to get you here? You should make yourself comfortable,” Kyson says before walking out and slamming the door.
The moment the lock turns, my legs give out beneath me, all fight leaving my body as a wail wrenches from the deepest corner of my soul.
