Tease Me (Private Listing #4)

You’ll let her go when you have me?

Unknown:

When I know you’ll behave.

Me:

Send me a pic so I know she’s okay.

I blow out a breath even as fear creeps up my spine. Coldness settles over me and I shiver. He doesn’t send the picture, but I’m not sure I would have trusted it was new and not something he took days ago.

Setting the phone aside again, I rest my head on the seat. I’m not letting my mind dwell on this being a fool’s errand. I have no proof that Hope is still alive, but I have to have faith that she is. Because her dying at the hands of my stalker would be unimaginable. I don’t think I could recover from something like that.

The driver doesn’t pause long at any point along the way, but I don’t try the doors to escape. I’d rather not confirm I’m locked in.

After about an hour, the car comes to a stop. The phone buzzes.

Unknown:

You’ve reached your destination, little one.

Get comfortable

I’ll be there soon

Picking up the phone, I open the car door. When I step out, all I see is green and a little white house. It’s too fucking serene to be the end. It’s beautiful and peaceful and at complete odds with the anxiety flooding my body. The surrounding trees block my view so I can’t tell which way the city is from here. Which way is home?

When I close the door to the car, it rolls away, crunching gravel as it goes.

I stare after it, half wishing I’d jumped back in, but Hope is counting on me.

Straightening, I walk up the sidewalk and pause at the door. Am I supposed to knock? Just go in?

The door lock snicks. The phone buzzes in my hand.

Unknown:

Wait inside, little one

Fan-fucking-tastic. I walk into what looks like a vacation home. The alarm beeps to alert me the door is open. The house is beautifully decorated with nothing that would identify its owner. No personal pictures hang on the wall next to the basic artwork. The living room has cream-colored furniture with blue accents. There’s a fireplace that looks like it’s actually wood burning. Little blue vases sit on the mantel.

It looks so normal. But nothing about this situation is normal.

“Hello?” My voice is small. When no one answers, I say it louder. “Hello?”

Still no one.

I relax a little. I’d rather be alone in this strange place than sharing the space with my stalker.

Okay, I shake off the shivers of dread and focus. Take in my surroundings. Figure out if there’s anything I can use to protect myself. I’m not defenseless here. He doesn’t have me tied up, just Hope. And until I find her, he might as well have me trapped.

While the house is small, the kitchen is large with marble counters and beautiful chef-worthy appliances. No knives or stabby things. I check every drawer. Not even a pair of scissors.

I move on to the next room. A crystal chandelier hangs over a dining room table with seating for six. Down the hall, I find a primary bedroom with an en suite bathroom.

All my bath products are in it alongside masculine ones I’ve never seen. I spend as little time as possible in that room. I don’t want to think about what he wants from me or how I’m going to overpower him here.

I’m checking out the bedroom drawers when I hear the beep of the door opening. Cold sweat coats my body as I shut the drawer as quietly as possible. I sink down behind the bed. Unfortunately, another mattress is under it or I’d slide beneath to hide better.