Page 69 of Vega

My restraint unsettled her. Aggression would’ve confirmed what she believed about me. Walking away forced her to question whether I intended to use the control I held over her.

I picked up one of the puzzle pieces and placed it beside the section she had started. “That one goes there.”

I walked away, feeling as if I was leaving my heart on the table for her to put together, along with those puzzle pieces. I forced myself to open the door, because I wanted nothing more than to be locked in that room with her. But I opened it and walked out.

“Enjoy your puzzles, nerd.”

Her smile returned despite her effort to suppress it. “Enjoy your day, kidnapper.”

I locked the door behind me with my dick hard and a grin I had no business wearing.

SONNET ELLISON

As soon as the lock clicked behind him, I groaned aloud and stared at the puzzle pieces covering the desk. For one second, I wanted to sweep every piece onto the floor. I wanted to kick the chair over, throw the laptop against the wall, and scream until my throat gave out.

But he was watching. Even if I couldn’t see every camera, I knew they were there. I refused to give him the satisfaction of watching me crumble after he walked away with that smugness in his eyes.

I had been locked inside his house for over a week, studying his movements, arguing with him, and trying to understand why a man who had snatched me from my home could also make me feel so much longing.

Now I was lusting after my captor, and I felt like a fool. I didn’t know his name, nor had I seen his face, and my body still reacted to him. I was intelligent enough to recognize the pattern. A captive became dependent on the person controlling her food, safety, and access to the outside world. Fear became confusion and even basic kindness felt like more than what it was, since cruelty is always expected.

It was Stockholm syndrome, and though I knew it was a possibility, it still didn’t stop my body from responding whenever Vega stood too close.

He claimed Roman wanted me dead and that kidnapping me had been the only way to protect me. But I couldn’t know whether any of that was true. Vega could still be working with Roman. The protection story could have been another method of control, designed to keep me cooperative until Roman decided how to cut my body into pieces and drop me into the lake too.

I had to get out of here. That was why I had really asked for the laptop. I had been listening to Vega’s routine since the first night. He usually left around the same time after dark, probably to murder people and kidnap other women. Then he returned sometime close to sunrise.

I waited at the desk, organizing the puzzle. Eventually, the sounds came in the order I had memorized; his footsteps becoming fainter, the front door opening, the heavier click of the exterior lock, the alarm chiming as it armed, then the faint rumble of an engine.

I remained still until the sound of his car faded. After that, I shut down the laptop and took it into the bathroom, where I assumed there were no cameras, since there weren’t any windows. I flipped it over and worked at the casing until my fingertips hurt. The machine hadn’t been designed to come apart without proper tools, but desperation made me patient.

Eventually, a narrow piece of metal came free. It wasn’t much. Just a thin strip from the inside of the laptop casing, sharp on one edge and slightly bent at the tip. But it was metal, and metal could do more than my fingernails ever could.

My heart started beating harder with hope and anticipation. I pulled my ankle closer and turned the steel cuff until I could see the small keyhole. My hands shook so badly that the first few times I tried to slide the strip inside, I missed completely.

“Come on,” I urged in a whisper.

I forced myself to breathe, then angled the metal piece again. This time, it slipped into the lock.

I froze.

For a second, I was too scared to move.

Then I twisted it carefully.

Nothing happened.

I swallowed back the urge to cry and tried again, shifting the strip up, then down, feeling for anything inside the cuff that might give. The metal scraped softly. Each tiny sound made me glance toward the door like he might hear it from wherever he was watching me.

My ankle ached from the weight of the chain. Sweat gathered along my hairline even though the room wasn’t hot.

I twisted again, and the cuff clicked.

I stopped breathing. I was in disbelief, but I pulled gently, and the steel cuff opened.

For a full second, I only stared at it, too stunned that this had really worked. The chain slid from my ankle and dropped onto the floor with a loud but beautiful clank.

A laugh almost escaped me. It sounded broken and too close to a sob. I slapped my free hand over my mouth before it could get out.