Shattered Hearts(11)

By: Marissa Farrar


I exhaled a sigh. Hannah was all right. That was something. She’d probably be worried sick about me, but at least she was okay.

“How can you say you wouldn’t hurt a woman after what you’ve done to me?”

The words were out before I’d thought them through, and he shot me a glare. “I haven’t hurt you, have I?”

“You knocked me unconscious with... what’s that stuff? Chloroform, I’m guessing, and then you taped my mouth and hands, zipped me up inside a bag, and kidnapped me, and now we’re on a plane going to God only knows where.”

That flicker in his eyes again. “But you’re not hurt. You’re not bloodied or bruised.”

“The tape hurt when you pulled it off my mouth,” I muttered.

Wicked amusement glinted in his green eyes. “I haven’t punched you, or kicked you, or even slapped you. Not yet, anyway. But if you push me, I won’t be held responsible for my actions.”

I wondered who he thought would be responsible for him beating me up. I guessed he must be one of those men who lashed out at a woman and then decided it was the woman’s fault for making him do it.

“I... I need to use the bathroom.”

My bladder was full, but that wasn’t the only reason I’d mentioned it. I figured it would give me a moment with the door closed where I could be by myself. I wasn’t expecting to find anything in the tiny bathroom that might be useful for me to escape, but at least it would give me some space.

“The bathroom is at the back of the plane. You do realize, however, that your hands are tied, and I have no intention of untying them.”

“That’s fine. I can manage,” I muttered.

“I don’t think you will.” A slow smile touched one corner of his generous mouth, making me shiver. “Don’t worry, I can help.”

My heart kick-started, and my stomach lurched. “No, it’s fine. Really. I don’t need to go that bad, anyway.”

“I don’t get turned on by taking women to the bathroom, if that’s what you’re worried about, Jolie.”

My face burned hot. That was exactly what I was worried about. Wasn’t it every woman’s fear when they were trapped with a strange man, alone? And it wasn’t as though this particular man had given me any hint that he might be different. He’d abducted me and was taking me God only knew where.

“Really,” I said from between gritted teeth, staring down at my lap. “I can hold it.”

His lips quirked, as though he was entertained by my discomfort. “You’re going to have to go sometime.”

“Not with you, I don’t.”

This man, Hayden, had been intimidating when we’d been in a large room full of people, but now I was face to face with him in this confined space, his presence was overwhelming. It was as though he’d sucked all the air from the plane’s interior, and I was left struggling to catch my breath. I felt as though nature had played a cruel trick, blessing this man with a perfect exterior when clearly his insides were rotten. His hair was so dark, the brown hovered on the edge of black. His eyes were framed with a thick fringe of black lashes, and strong eyebrows. His upper lip was defined with a perfect Cupid’s bow, his bottom lip a little fuller. He was clean shaven, but stupidly I wondered how he would look with a day or so of regrowth.

He appeared to have lost interest in me, as he reached beneath his seat and pulled out a slim, silver laptop. I stared at the item. He flipped it open, and then angled it so I was unable to see the screen. All I could think was that there might be Wi-Fi on board, and if there was, I might be able to contact someone for help.

“Don’t get any ideas,” he told me, as though he’d plucked the thought from my head. “Try anything, and you’ll regret it.”

I scowled at him, even though he didn’t even bother to glance over at me. My arms were still behind my back, pulling uncomfortably at my shoulders. My full bladder made me wriggle in my seat as I tried to ignore it.

“How long is the flight?” I asked him.

His gaze flicked to mine, and it was like he’d squeezed my heart in his fist.

“You don’t need to know.”