āHow could he say something like that?ā Simone thought to herself. The redhead tried to usher herself off the sidewalk a second time only to find traffic cutting across the road. Not one vehicle was willing to slow and let her cross to her jeep. She found herself stuck, teetering between being on and off the road, her knees weak from the shock of nearly being run over by the truck. How could I have not seen that coming? Is this guy driving me mental? And how could he say that, that heās not leaving me again?ā Simone heard his voice then, the vibrato of his tone carrying her. While she didnāt catch his words, knowing he was there was all the incentive she needed to step onto the road. Screw traffic. Too late.
His hands gripped her, his left talking hold of her shoulder while his right puled at her left hand. She immediately turned towards him with the force of his grip, her eyes landing on his hands vehemently. Her fingers laced through his and tried to push him off, the motion violent as she tried to throw everything she had into getting him off her. Still, she turned to face him, wanting to make eye contact with him, wanting to give him the Parker stare that sent all men running. Simone looked up into his eyes then, frustrated, angry and slightly terrified. āGet off!ā she ordered. The force of her words became drained and as she tried to utter the latter part of her threat her lips fluttered before freezing, slightly parted. Her eyes looked down at her hands then as she tried to move her fingers, to pull away from him. Her thoughts and desires were not reciprocated by her body. Simone couldnāt move at all. She looked back up at him, her eyes panicked while he merely looked down at her amused. āWhat the fuck did he do to me?ā she wanted to scream. She tried to look behind her and at anyone who was walking by. Simone wanted to scream, to plead with them. She looked up at the security cameras she knew were mounted on top of the door and then back at him again.
āI very rarely take no for an answer, Simone,ā He told her. Simone breathed rapidly through her nose, her heart racing beyond anything she had ever experienced. Panic would have had her shaking violently in front of him were it not for whatever he had done to her. Instead, she was forced to stay where she was, in his arms, half on the road and half off of it, looking up at him with a stoned expression that could easily be mistaken for adoration ā wide eyed, flushed, breathing rapidly. Simone closed her eyes, feeling like she was suddenly at war with her own body, screaming at herself to move away from him, to punch him, to kick him, to do anything to get him away from her. As his hand brushed her cheek, tucking a stray lock of her hair behind her ear she felt revulsion boil up in her stomachā¦paired with a sudden flare of desire between her thighs. It was the strangest combination of feelings she had ever experienced and it made her suck in all the more air. Breathing and blinking appeared to be the only thing she could do.
āStop. Donāt touch me. Donāt hurt me. Please just let me go. Please,ā Simone pleaded with him in her mind.
āAnd I didnāt want to play dirty,ā he added then and Simone held her breath as he suddenly bent and took her in his arms like a bride, shifting her arms around his neck to look perfectly natural while she had absolutely no control of herself. Put me down! Put me down right now! Drop me in the road to be hit by a car, whatever you want, but donāt do this. Donāt.
āBut you just had to run,ā he murmured in her ear and Simone felt another rush of goose flesh erupt down her neck, a strong twist of her stomach telling her that the breath of his words tickled her but her muscles couldnāt flinch or twitch the way they normally would. Simone continued to nearly hyperventilate, feeling him move so elegantly across the road ā and oh yes, fucking traffic stopped for him now! ā to his car, the same luxury vehicle he had driven her home in two years ago. Where is he taking me? Is he going to kill me? Sell me? Rape me?
Simoneās desire to scream at him did not fade as he opened the passenger door to his vehicle, holding her at one point with one hand ā how the hell could he manage that? ā before sliding her onto the seat, bending her knees and planting her feet on the floor. His touch always seemed to linger longer than she would have wandered. If she could cry she would have at that point. Instead she closed her eyes, refusing to watch him move to pull a seat belt over her. Put me in your trunk next time bastard.
For the few moments that she was by herself, she could barely think. He closed the door and Simone watched him walk around the car. It felt like slow motion and she had no freedom to move even as he had his eyes off her. Sapphire. Sydney. Oh my God. Mum and Dad. Iām going to be one of those statistics, those people who just disappear for years and then gets found at the bottom of a river in parts, a foot washing up on a beach, my head eaten by wolvesā¦no. I canāt let that happen. No. No.
Simone couldnāt turn to watch him as he got in. The redhead was relegated to staring forward, a prisoner in her own skin, hearing him slide his keys into the ignition of his vehicle to start it. The vibrations of the engine moved through the floor of the car and up her legs. A seat warmer turned on underneath her. The air began to circulate through the vents. Low music began to play and it was unlike what she had been listening to to the past few days. No detail was lost on her. When he locked the doors, her eyes shot to begin to analyze the details of her passenger door. She tried desperately to look out of the corner of her eye at him, at the center console, at the model of the vehicle. When they pulled away from the curb, Simone found herself taking in everything she could and she didnāt know why. Heās stronger than me. Heās fucking huge. And heās drugged me. He has to haveā¦ But the more she thought, the more her resolve kicked in.
āI am not some insane creep who wants to kidnap you,ā he started. Dear lord. This isnāt CSI or Law and Order. Donāt tell me youāre not psycho. I know youāre freaking insane. You have to be to be doing this, to be taking me and you will never live it down you fucking bastard. I will not be chopped up and murdered without a fight. Of course, her monologue continued and Simone was still silent, still unable to speak no matter how much she thought about screaming, trying to yell at him, trying to move her hand to where she knew her phone was in her pocket. If she could just connect a phone call with someone it could be traced.
āIn fact, only the kidnapping part is correct, though you may think my insane once I tell you this,ā he continued. Quit telling me youāre not crazy you fucking sociopath,ā Simone retorted in her mind. āMy full name is Alexander II Gabriel Kaiseren ChartĆ©s, my title is that of King. I am a vampire, and contrary to popular belief, I cannot survive on animal blood.ā
What the fuck? A vampire? Is he for real?
She was stunned and Simone saw him shift, establishing eye contact briefly. As he smiled she wanted to throw up. She closed her eyes then, beginning to try and think back to her self defense class in universityā¦only they had never told you what to do if the guy actually got you in his car.
āSo once in a while I will procure food for myself in this world. Although, I have to admit my food is usually brought to me. Not the other way around,ā he mused. Heās actually serious about this? He believes heās a vampire? Jesus Christ.
āYou certainly gave me a run for my money, dear Simone. I applaud that, but do not deceive yourself to think you will ever get to leave me in such a way ever again. You are now my property, and you are to do as I command,ā Alexander concluded. Simone hated how proud of himself he sounded. You have no idea how much of a run for your money Iām going to give you, you sick fuck.
Normally she didnāt curse this much. Perhaps he brought this out of her. Still, Simone flared her nostrils at his comments. She looked forward out of the car, counting the streets, remembering their names, watching as he turned into an affluent neighborhood. Within a turn and a short drive off of the main road he pulled into the driveway of a large modern mansion. She continued to look forward, her eyes tracing the lines of the consul in front of her, where the airbags were. Simone watched him park his car across the drive on an angle and when he stopped, he suddenly sat back and looked at her. She heaved a breath and suddenly she could move her shoulders.
Simone could move again.
What the?
Simone shifted then, to turn and look at him, her face like stone for all the tears and screaming she had wanted to do along the drive. However short it had proved to be, the time was enough for her to push away the panic, to think through a thought process. If you fight what will he do? If you go along with him, what will he do? Alexander had always been witty with her, biting her remarks two years ago with his own jabbing retorts. He had always been aggressive. Now she was face to face with the same man who had now taken her to some mansion against her will and declared himself a vampire. Not to mention that he had somehow drugged her long enough to get her there with something strong enough to paralyze her while leaving her free to feel and hear everything he said and did to her.
Simone knew that her iPhone was in her pocket and she had butt dialed her sister Sydney so many times in her life that it seemed like some sort of option. The redhead knew exactly how to turn and face him and nudge the thing against the seat, hitting speed dial 1. Sydney had always been her emergency contact ā she tended to be the more reliable sister when it came to answering the phone, and her legal office had never been far from the zoo. Swallowing, she shifted again, feeling her phone vibrate in her back pocket with an incoming text. Before she knocked it, she knew she had to say something - he seemed like the type to be preoccupied by the sound of his own voice now didn't he?
āYou think I can be owned? That I will listen to whatever you tell me to do just because you ask me to?āSimone demanded lowly. Her hands shifting to his thighs then as she moved toward him. As she began to move towards him, allowing herself to give into her bodyās desire to touch him, Simone thought through the alternatives. She could see it in her head so clearly.
* * *
Her hand would dive out to rip at the car handle only for her fingers to fly back. She would shove her shoulder into it, finding it locked. She would pry at it with her fingers to try and force it up but it seemed like it was glued down. He didnāt seem like the type to dumbly leave the doors unlocked. That was idiotic. Trying the door wasnāt worth it. It was stupid and he would likely be amused by that.
Then she recalled that her the dial tone would suddenly resonate throughout the car. How could she distract him from that? She would have screamed something, but then she could be paralyzed again or he might jab her with some hypodermic needle she couldnāt feel a second time. She would swing her nails poised for his face. Thumb his eyes. Scratch him. Anything to get at the control panel on his side of the car. But he was strong and so muscled and it was that fake steroid muscle. He was probably strong enough to catch her hands and stop her. So attacking him wouldnāt do anything either. Heād probably laugh too, pin her hands, do something she didnāt want him to do against her will right there in his car.
Then Simone could see herself trying to attack him in another way, to distract him. She wanted it to sound like a scuffle was going on for the phone call. She would swing her hands at him, not sure that she would get anywhere near him. Then she would shift her legs before throwing herself over the center console. But knowing her luck her knee would connect with his gear shift painfully ā that always happened even when she had make out sessions in some guyās car. Still, if she could get over it, she would throw herself over his knees and someone turn the car back on, throw it into drive and jam his foot on the gas and send the car into the front of the house to deploy the air bags. Then, she might not be low enough to avoid them ā in fact they would hit her first and knock her out for him.
None of her violent ideas seemed viable. So she didnāt choose any of them. Right away at least. Violence was always how she had dealt with things. Hell hath no fury like a woman with fire for hair.
* * *
Simone let her hands grip his shoulders tightly, not caring if her nails dug in through the fabric of his collared shirt. Slowly she lifted her legs, elegantly sweeping them over the console until she was straddling him, folding her knees on either side of his.
āAll you had to do was ask nicely,ā she scoffed, forcing herself to believe what she was trying to sell him. Her bodyās reaction to his proximity certainly made that easy. Internally she cringed as she moved, re-adjusting herself. Her hip shifted and her phone pressed against her side and the steering wheel. It suddenly dialed and she knew it was quick to connect, it always was. I donāt have an eighty dollar a month plan for nothing.
She moved fast then, or at least she tried to, bringing her fingers to his face in a violent swing of her nails across his eyes. āYou think I can be owned you sick bastard?!ā she screamed then, feeling her lusty faƧade fade away as she did everything she could to lay a hand on him, to let the phone call get through. Dear God, Sydney pick up, go through, just long enough. I donāt care if he breaks my wrists it has to connect. Simone threw her shoulder away from him and into the window as hard as she could, hearing the glass crack, wanting nothing but to get away from him, to hurt him and to above all let someone know where he intended to take her.