Page 21 of Craving Sin

CHAPTER SEVEN

Abbott

If I had to make a guess, I would assume Rian is speaking to someone about me. He’s paced the porch, dropped his head back against a pillar…watched me. I’m sure they’re planning what to do with me. I still don’t get why he was following me or how I ended up in this situation in the first place, but it’s clear that he didn’t know who I am. He didn’t plan to kidnap the governor’s son, but now he has me, and that—and by that, I mean me—is a huge problem for him.

It’s a whole lot easier to get away with kidnapping and murdering someone who doesn’t have the kind of reach my father does. While we might not get along, and I’m not the son he wishes for, he will never let an opportunity pass to gain sympathy or attention from any story. My kidnapping will be no different. While it might take a few days for anyone to realize I’m gone since I’m off work, once they do, I’ll be all over the news. That has to work in my favor, right? I have to find a way to hold out until then.

I watch as Rian pushes away from the pillar and comes into the house. “You should let me check your wound,” I say as he closes the door behind him.

“I need a list of everything you’ll need to treat me.” He grabs paper and a pen from the drawer in the kitchen.

“Oh, are we having guests? I’m beat after being up all night. I’ll need a nap and a shower before I can entertain.”

He smirks. “A sense of humor, huh? Who would have thought?” He nods toward the paper. “Write.”

I do as he says, partially because I’ve got to at least try to get on his good side. If I can get him to trust me, that will give me more of an opportunity to escape, but also because I really had been telling the truth earlier. Despite the situation, I don’t have it in me not to try to help him to the best of my ability.

I hand the list over, and Rian takes a photo.

“Do you have any allergies?” he asks.

“Huh? Aren’t I the one who should have asked you that?” What’s wrong with me? Why hadn’t I asked?

“I meant food. You’ll have to eat, and I can’t risk you going into anaphylaxis.”

“Not until you’re ready for me to die, at least.”

“Obviously. I have to get my use out of you first.”

“Or you could just let me go.”

Rian sighs. “You’re too smart to pretend like you think that will happen.” He’s right. I am. I know how this turns out for me. “Food?”

“No allergies,” I say. “I can eat anything.” I look away, trying to ignore the hatred filling me. I don’t like feeling that way, don’t like letting that kind of ugliness fill me up, but this man is disgusting. He takes people’s lives without a second thought. Many of them, if I had to guess, and I’ll be the next on his list.

But then…why is he also so worried about what I’ll eat? Why is he making sure all the options are safe for me when all I would have to say is no if he brought something into the house that I couldn’t have?

I shake my head, not willing to let myself try to turn this man or his actions into anything other than what they are. He’s not a good person, even if he does do something thoughtful. I’m sure the evilest of men have had moments where their malicious behavior doesn’t shine through, but that doesn’t change who they are. “I have to piss,” I tell him.

Rian sighs, takes the pen back, then disappears into the garage. He comes back a moment later with keys, freeing me, but leaving one cuff still attached to my wrist.

His gun is in his pants, there for me to see, even though he’s not holding it. He points toward the hallway. “This way.”

I walk first, Rian behind me, until I find the bathroom.

“Door open,” he instructs me, waiting in the doorway, not giving me his back, but not looking at me either.

I’m still in scrubs—though I’d changed them after my surgery and hadn’t seen another patient afterward—so I lower them, pull my dick out, and do my business. I wash my hands, before he says, “My turn. Don’t move.”

He slips around where I’m standing at the sink, leaving me closer to him than he was to me when it was my turn.

Rian pulls his gun from his slacks, looks my way, then sets it on the back of the toilet. He tries to hide his wince when he moves, but I notice it. He’s in pain, and it’s getting worse. The sweating is coming back again, too. I can use this to my benefit.

When I hear the first drops of his piss hit the toilet water, I don’t think, I just run. I’m not even sure the thought was in my head before I started moving, but suddenly I’m sprinting down the hallway, trying to get to the door.

I’m fairly certain I hear him curse behind me, before there are loud footsteps, and he’s running too. My heart is beating out of my chest, one thought running through my head over and over—run, run, run.

I slide on the rug on the hardwood floors, making me stumble into the door, unable to stop myself. When I go to pull it open, it’s locked. My hands are shaking as I turn the deadbolt, and the second the door is open, Rian’s body slams into me from behind.