Page 77 of Silver

I keep looking for the keys. I’m tearing the room apart. I’m even irrational as I look under the bed and then in every drawer of his dresser. I toss his clothes on the floor and feel around inside and under as if there might be a secret compartment somewhere.

I run my hand under the table and chairs, flipping them on their sides. I head for the bathroom next and toss everything out of the drawers. No fucking keys.

Losing steam, I try the windows. All of them are locked. I’d have to break the glass to open them, and then I’d have to jump from the second story. I could probably make it, but it’s a last resort.

Silver says nothing while I stomp to the closet. I feel in and around every pair of pants and every shirt before dragging a chair to the top shelf and standing on it to look up high.

Fuck.

It infuriates me that he’s so calm while I’m enraged. Even when he spoke, his voice was level. Now he’s simply watching me. And it pisses me off.

After snapping my fingers, I reach under the bed from the end where he can’t touch me and pull out his toy bags. He has several. I think they’re itemized, but I don’t care about that right now. I riffle through them one at a time, not finding keys but furthering my unwanted knowledge about sex toys.

The man owns things I’ve never seen or heard of. Implements I haven’t read about it in any of my kinky books. I shudder at how many types of nipple clamps he has and unopened packages that I only glance at.

No keys.

In total frustration, I run for the door and try the knob. It’s locked. There’s no way out of here. Defeated, I lean against the door, slide down to the floor, pull my knees to my chest, and drop my forehead against them.

“Daphne…”

“Shut up. Shut the fuck up.”

He doesn’t respond.

I need to think. Obviously, I can get out of here. I can break a window. I could even scream out the window until someone passing by stops and sees me. I could have them call the police. I could also start screaming specific requests loud enough for someone living in this house to heed my warning and get me the fuck out. I doubt any of them wants me to attract the neighbors.

In all my searching, I didn’t find my phone, nor did I find his. Where is he keeping my things? His phone might be in his pocket, but where is mine? There is one locked drawer at the base of his desk. I’m guessing it’s in there. He mysteriously produced my phone two days ago and hovered while I spoke to my grandmother, but I don’t know for sure where it is. Now, I’m assuming this drawer holds that and my ID, but without the fucking keys, I can’t open it.

Think, Daphne.

Minutes tick by. I go through a roller coaster of emotions. High to low and back over and over. I start to justify his action, and then my fury kicks in again.

Eventually, my anger turns into tears. Dammit. They fall silently down my face until I start sniffling.

Twenty-Seven

Daphne

* * *

“Why?” I finally ask, not lifting my head. I need answers. I’m not sure he can give them to me, but I can try.

His voice is soft when he responds, “I think I wanted you to be mine the first time you stepped into the math lab. I started following you the second time. When I realized you were living in your car, I was scared. It wasn’t safe. I decided the best way to get you into a better housing situation was to use fear. So I used you as this year’s freshman prank victim.”

I bite my lip, trying not to interrupt. I want to hear what he’s saying. It won’t help me get answers if I start yelling again. I heard about the freshman prank in a campus rumor, but I never told a soul it happened to me. I wasn’t positive that’s what I had experienced.

“At that point, I couldn’t know that we would be compatible. I had no idea you were such a masochist. I was trying to flush you out of my system. I hoped you would heed my warning and get a fucking apartment. Before I pulled you out of your car that night, I put a tracker on the frame. That’s how I knew you were at the strip club.”

My breath hitches. He followed me? He didn’t just happen to be there that night?

“Yeah, I followed you,” he says as if reading my mind. “It was out of sheer madness that I brought you home with me. But it didn’t take long to figure out you aren’t just submissive but deeply masochistic. You have tendencies that indicate you will succeed as a slave. That was beyond my wildest expectations. In fact, I’ve had to do additional research this past week to make sure I could fulfill your needs.”

I grind my teeth together. Flames are coming out of my head. I hate what he’s saying about me. As if I’m an object and not a person.

I hate even more that he’s right. I’m fucking warped. I crave devious things.

“I’d say my biggest mistake was never telling you it was me that night. I’m the man who terrorized you and gave you nightmares. I’m also the man who rescued you from yourself and chased away your nightmares.”