yn's

w much time has passed without

mmitting the numbers to memory as best I can, I'm still clueless as to how long I've been sitting on

me? Is he doing everythin

I hop

f being rescued. I could be anywhere in the country right now, making it near impossible for Liam to find

ed. And so fucking angry that

ut it's also a reminder that she is likely confused about why I haven't visited or called on m

n option. I refuse to appear weak in front of my kidnapper. I'm su

enting me from leaving. He routinely brings me food and water but makes no effort to speak to me. Not even when he releases my ankle from the chain attached to th

a dangerous man. Whenever he enters the room, his shoulders are tense, his body rigid, and his eyes hard as he stares at me fro

ts to me. I'm completely helpless. But he doesn't hurt

g the masked man is bringing me three meals a day. If that's the case, he has o

e fuckin

t beli

y with the same red tray he has presented me with each time. For my third meal of the day, a steaming styrofoam

rms constricting with the movement. He wears the same thing every day-a blac

air across from me, his usual place to watch me eat. He leans b

w cold it gets in this room, my hands have long since turned into ic

e tray and leaves, not returning until the next meal. Although it's awkward sitting in si

ing the noodles in my hands

ng to be spending time with this man, I may as well try to get him talking. The more

the armrests. My question stunned him. But

I just need to keep him talking. Maybe if I can play the sympathy card and r

m an only child. My father left my mother a few years back, and now

feel his eyes pierc

ve a fiance, too. His name is Liam. We met at a club four years ago

t. However, the admission seems to pique the masked man's interest because he sits up straighter, his long fingers t

get this man talking to me is stronger than my desire to eat.

d behind my back, but I don't want to say anything because he h

his face. If he wants to say something, he doesn't open

keep g

find me." The words are filled with conviction-a warning to my kidnapper that I will be

athy card in the hopes I could tug at his heartstrings enough by t

an idio

fisted at his side. "I'm not scared of your fiance, l

or behind him. My heart races wildly in my chest, the cup

at interaction did not go the way I planned. Now, I j