Read Online Caught Up In You 5: No More Denial (Edgeplay) by Jenna McCormick - Free Book Online
Authors: Jenna McCormick
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out on my visitor. “Why don’t you come up and have a cup of coffee? I’m afraid that’s all I can offer you, but my friend should be back with provisions soon.”
I buzz him through, my mind whirling. My tablet is devoid of messages too. I’m convinced Connor is scheming again and I compose a brief note without a subject line.
Dr. Fletcher. Really?
I press send just as a sharp knock sounds on my door.
Doctor Fletcher’s expression is pure relief. He crosses the threshold and shuts the door behind him. “I was so worried about you.” He holds out his arms for a hug.
“Um, okay.” It seems rude not to accept the comfort he offers so I step into his embrace.
His arms crush me against him and I’m about to pull away when I feel the sharp prick of a needle against my neck. “What the hell?”
My limbs feel heavy and I sag against him, no longer in control of my body.
My vision tunnels and the last thing I see is his satisfied expression. “There there, we’re together now. Everything will be all right.”
Chapter Seven
S lowly the world comes into focus. I wince at the stabbing pain in my head. What the hell happened? My eyelids feel heavy and I can’t recall ever being so hung over. The world jostles and I moan, then realize there’s a gag in my mouth. I try to remove it, but my hands are bound behind my back with what feels like an electrical zip tie. My ankles as well.
It all comes back in a rush. Dr. Fletcher, Ian, showing up at Rochelle’s apartment. Jamming a needle into my neck. Why would he do that?
A shiver tears through me as I relive the fervent look on his face, the relief that he found me. I’ve been so distracted by Connor that I somehow missed the clues that the man I trusted with my grandfather’s mental health was fixated on me. And apparently Ian Fletcher has it in him to come after me.
Another thump and my entire aching body is jostled. I can’t see a thing but I think I’m in the trunk of a car. He’s kidnapping me! Bound and gagged by a madman.
Panic wells, my heart beating so fast my limited vision goes spotty. I tamp my anxiety down and struggle for rational thought. Someone will realize I’m missing. Rochelle will see signs of a struggle and call the police. Or Connor. I just need to endure. Connor will never give up until he finds me.
Even after last night? Snarkarella whispers. You said horrible things, do you really think he’s eager for more?
With nothing to do but think, I revisit my hazy memories from our time in the limo. I remembered him wild eyed and desperate, more out of control than I’d ever seen him. He’d accused me of playing games, with an edge of violence in his gruff voice. I’d been sure he was about to rape me.
But he’d stopped. Controlled his urges when I used my safeword. He didn’t take the choice from me.
The car jerks to a stop and I’m thrown to the back of the spacious trunk. Cold metal brushes my fingertips. It’s a tire iron. I grasp it desperately in my right hand. He’ll have to cut the bindings to get me out of the trunk and then I’ll strike. Years of manual labor have kept my body strong, and a solid whack might cave in Ian’s skull.
I don’t debate whether or not I can do it. I’ve seen the effects of a person being taken against his will and would rather live with a murder on my conscience than the hell Connor dwells in.
The trunk opens and I wince in pain as daylight streams in, my headache worsening with the addition of light. A man’s shadow falls over me. Ian.
“You’re awake.” He sounds perturbed by this.
I stare up at him, unapologetic. My grip on the tire iron tightens when my gaze focuses on the temple where I plan to hit him.
He leans in and I stifle a growl as he invades my space. Something’s waking up in me, something primal, animalistic. Outrage that Ian could do this to me. I confided in him over my grandfather. The betrayal burns like acid in my gut.
I
I buzz him through, my mind whirling. My tablet is devoid of messages too. I’m convinced Connor is scheming again and I compose a brief note without a subject line.
Dr. Fletcher. Really?
I press send just as a sharp knock sounds on my door.
Doctor Fletcher’s expression is pure relief. He crosses the threshold and shuts the door behind him. “I was so worried about you.” He holds out his arms for a hug.
“Um, okay.” It seems rude not to accept the comfort he offers so I step into his embrace.
His arms crush me against him and I’m about to pull away when I feel the sharp prick of a needle against my neck. “What the hell?”
My limbs feel heavy and I sag against him, no longer in control of my body.
My vision tunnels and the last thing I see is his satisfied expression. “There there, we’re together now. Everything will be all right.”
Chapter Seven
S lowly the world comes into focus. I wince at the stabbing pain in my head. What the hell happened? My eyelids feel heavy and I can’t recall ever being so hung over. The world jostles and I moan, then realize there’s a gag in my mouth. I try to remove it, but my hands are bound behind my back with what feels like an electrical zip tie. My ankles as well.
It all comes back in a rush. Dr. Fletcher, Ian, showing up at Rochelle’s apartment. Jamming a needle into my neck. Why would he do that?
A shiver tears through me as I relive the fervent look on his face, the relief that he found me. I’ve been so distracted by Connor that I somehow missed the clues that the man I trusted with my grandfather’s mental health was fixated on me. And apparently Ian Fletcher has it in him to come after me.
Another thump and my entire aching body is jostled. I can’t see a thing but I think I’m in the trunk of a car. He’s kidnapping me! Bound and gagged by a madman.
Panic wells, my heart beating so fast my limited vision goes spotty. I tamp my anxiety down and struggle for rational thought. Someone will realize I’m missing. Rochelle will see signs of a struggle and call the police. Or Connor. I just need to endure. Connor will never give up until he finds me.
Even after last night? Snarkarella whispers. You said horrible things, do you really think he’s eager for more?
With nothing to do but think, I revisit my hazy memories from our time in the limo. I remembered him wild eyed and desperate, more out of control than I’d ever seen him. He’d accused me of playing games, with an edge of violence in his gruff voice. I’d been sure he was about to rape me.
But he’d stopped. Controlled his urges when I used my safeword. He didn’t take the choice from me.
The car jerks to a stop and I’m thrown to the back of the spacious trunk. Cold metal brushes my fingertips. It’s a tire iron. I grasp it desperately in my right hand. He’ll have to cut the bindings to get me out of the trunk and then I’ll strike. Years of manual labor have kept my body strong, and a solid whack might cave in Ian’s skull.
I don’t debate whether or not I can do it. I’ve seen the effects of a person being taken against his will and would rather live with a murder on my conscience than the hell Connor dwells in.
The trunk opens and I wince in pain as daylight streams in, my headache worsening with the addition of light. A man’s shadow falls over me. Ian.
“You’re awake.” He sounds perturbed by this.
I stare up at him, unapologetic. My grip on the tire iron tightens when my gaze focuses on the temple where I plan to hit him.
He leans in and I stifle a growl as he invades my space. Something’s waking up in me, something primal, animalistic. Outrage that Ian could do this to me. I confided in him over my grandfather. The betrayal burns like acid in my gut.
I
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