Page 73 of Incomplete
With my memory still spotty, it was hard not to feel defeated. I recalled running out of Boden’s house, but why was I running? I winced as blinding pain pulsed on one side of my head. I pulled against my restraints, seeking an ounce of relief from the ache worsening in my head, but to no avail as my hands were still tied impossibly tight with zero forgiveness. Tears escaped and ran down the side of my cheek to my ear from the weariness wreaking havoc on my body as I still couldn’t make any sense of the situation.
Sutton River was a quiet town, and Boden was well-known and respected, so it was doubtful he was the target. How could I have been so naive and stupid to think I’d be free of the unwanted attention I’d attracted from the show by simply leaving the city life?
Regardless of how much I berated myself, I was in this position because I ignored the warning signs.The continuous assassinations of my character in the tabloids unearthed a world of crazy I wasn’t prepared for on my doorstep. The play-by-play descriptions someone repeatedly threatened me with via email were vile. The text messages were equally alarming. I should have reported it through the proper channels, but instead, I downplayed the severity and moved as a means to escape the reality I couldn’t stomach facing any longer.
Meeting Boden sparked a new hope within. I began to find the beauty in life that I thought had been forever extinguished. I wanted to revel in the peace and embrace the serenity. I’d never felt freer and was desperate to hold on to that feeling tightly, regardless of the stakes. It was a gamble. One I selfishly risked by not having the strength to confide in the one person I’d given my heart to. I was besieged with everything I should have done differently, just as the sound of metal on metal took the deafening silence to a frightening new level.
I mumbled incoherently as a cold chill whooshed over me, followed by a blinding light aimed at my head. A hand tested the restraints at my feet while my teeth chattered with alarm, and my eyes blinked rapidly as I tried to adjust and find a balance between the darkness and the light.
“Haven’t I always told you bad things happen when you don’t listen to me?”
I didn’t recognize the deep timbre of the man’s voice, but it was menacing enough that it sent another chill rolling down my spine.
The mattress I was lying on sunk beside me as his weight brushed against my thigh. I willed myself to dig deep, remain calm, and appear unafraid, all the while ignoring the uphill challenge that squeezed my lungs tightly.
Knuckles brushed across my cheek and were surprisingly tender as the sound of my heart pulsating wildly filled my ears and nearly snuffed his groan. “It didn’t have to be like this. It didn’t have to be this way.” The flashlight he was holding dipped, allowing me a quick glance to make out he had a buzzed cut head. “Why . . . why did you threaten to leave?”
His questions only left me further mystified as I hadn’t the slightest idea who this man was.
“I warned you what would happen if you did, and then not only did you leave me, but you went and flaunted yourself on national television.”
I shook my head in denial; all the while, the vibe radiating off him in surges grew more unsettling with each passing second.
“Don’t pretend to be all innocent. You wouldn’t have signed up for the process if you didn’t want all the attention it brings.You,” he enunciated with an extra bite of the tongue, “put yourself on display to be objectified by men all over the world.”
My stomach twisted painfully.
“You’re mine!” he shouted menacingly, causing me to jump out of reflex only to have the ropes binding my hands and ankles together sting as they jerked across my bare flesh.
Who did this man think I was?
Yes, I’d gone on a reality show, but I was as single as they come, with no lingering ties to any men I’d dated in the past.
“Did you let him touch you the way I have?” His fingers dug into my chin. “Did you fuck Tyler?”
I vehemently pleaded with him that I hadn’t. It was the truth. Everything was for show. I was ordered to play along, and in all honesty, it was an escape, an alternate reality that, while not ideal, presented me with an opportunity to block mine out.
“And now you’re playing house with some cop.”
With just the implication left hanging in the air, my anxiety bubbled to the surface and clogged my throat, making my breathing uneven and even more restrictive.
The man suddenly shot to his feet, and before I knew what was happening, he pulled a gun on me. My eyes widened as terror bristled under my skin, and my mind raced like wildfire with unforgivable force. He took four steps toward me and bent down, bringing us at eye level with one another. The flashlight fell to the mattress by my shoulder. His pupils were dilated with hatred, and a vein in his forehead distended, but what was most notable was the rage coursing through him was palpable.
Bile from my stomach churned, and I choked in a garbled breath when he aggressively grabbed me by the throat again.
“I should have kept you on a tighter leash, and if it isn’t already blatantly obvious, I’ve learned from my past mistakes. This”—he waved the gun inches from my face before jamming it into the side of my temple—“all of this is to make sure you comply because, sweetheart, your day of reckoning is here, and it’s time to atone for your sins.”
The hairs on my neck stood on end while my breathing turned shallow, and his grip tightened. Fear was a trigger, a means to initiate a spark. He wanted me docile and at his mercy, weak and vulnerable.
“Ahh,” I cried out when he ripped the tape off my mouth.
“What do you have to say for yourself?” he demanded.
“Who . . .” I croaked, “who are you?”
He stumbled backward. My question was evidently a verbal slap in the face, triggering his movements to become more erratic and unhinged. More enraged.
“Who am I, she asks?” He scoffed before leaning into me and dragging his nose across my cheekbone to my ear. “What’s the matter, sweetheart? You don’t recognize your husband?”
