Read Online Sleeping with the Billionaire (Rendezvous with the Billionaire Book 3) by Eve Adrian - Free Book Online
Authors: Eve Adrian
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door and walked through it like it was something I did every day. The staircase looked just like any other. Industrial, cement steps and cement walls, a metal railing and doors which indicated the floor number at every other landing. Dylan was keeping me on the seventh floor. I hadn’t seen anyone at all, but I didn’t want to appear out of place. I took the stairs two at a time but slowed down after three stories. I didn’t want to use all my energy if I had to run later. After seven flights of stairs I finally reached the bottom.
Okay, steps one and two were complete, now for step three. Find a phone and call for help. But I needed to get outside to do that. I had no idea what part of the city I was in or even if we were still in New York. For all I knew we could be sitting in Jersey and I wouldn’t have a clue. If I didn’t know where I was, I couldn’t be very helpful to whoever I called.
I followed the exits signs and made it all the way to the door. But just as I opened it, everything came crashing down. Dylan walked in and saw me. I tried to run, but he grabbed my arm with one hand and punched me in the face with the other.
It stunned me, I’d never been punched before in my life. I tried to fight back, but I was already stumbling as he dragged me back towards the elevator, cursing at me the entire way. He pushed me into the elevator hard enough that I slammed up against the opposite wall. As the door closed, he sank his fist into my abdomen and I fell, sliding to the floor. Everything went dim except for the pain and I felt the hard sole of his shoe kicking me.
I tasted blood just before I passed out.
I wasn’t tied to the chair anymore. This time, Dylan had bound me in the corner, my hands wrenched behind my back and my feet tied together. My head feel like it was about to explode and the entire room was spinning. I couldn’t quite focus on anything. The world had taken on a subtle fuzziness around the edges. That wasn’t good at all.
Dylan was sitting on the floor, his eyes crazed as he raked his gaze up and down. I felt dirty just being looked at. He straightened when he saw my eyes open. “Why did you have to do that?” He was really complaining about me escaping? I would have scoffed if my throat didn’t feel like I’d swallowed broken glass. “I had a plan. It was all going to work out fine. Why did you have to ruin it?” He yelled that last bit and I flinched.
I had no idea how long I’d been out. I thought Dylan was wearing the same clothes that he’d been in when he’d kidnapped me, but I wasn’t sure. Now they looked rumpled, like he’d pulled at his shirt’s collar and maybe laid down for a while. I felt like I’d been run over by a truck. My muscles were stiff and sore and each little movement was a new agony. If this is what it felt like to get into a fight, I was never doing that again.
Assuming I survived.
His cell phone rang and he jumped. But he stood, placing his gun on the kitchen counter while he spoke. I guess he realized I couldn’t very well fight him while I was bound on the floor. He was right.
I wanted to curl into myself and cry. I didn’t deserve this, I had barely done anything wrong. And certainly nothing that warranted being held at gunpoint by a murderous lunatic. But tears weren’t going to get me out of this situation. I needed my wits, I needed to pay attention to what Dylan wanted me to do, and I needed to do whatever it took to get out of the cuffs and out of the apartment. I tried not to think too hard about what he might ask, it only made my stomach turn.
I eased onto my side, rolling over a tender bruise in the process. A little yelp escaped, but I kept going, wedging myself up against the wall until I was in a sitting position. That didn’t help my head and I felt like I was going to throw up. But sitting was better than lying down and I was determined to stay there.
Dylan came towards me and I was sure he was going to hit me for the
Okay, steps one and two were complete, now for step three. Find a phone and call for help. But I needed to get outside to do that. I had no idea what part of the city I was in or even if we were still in New York. For all I knew we could be sitting in Jersey and I wouldn’t have a clue. If I didn’t know where I was, I couldn’t be very helpful to whoever I called.
I followed the exits signs and made it all the way to the door. But just as I opened it, everything came crashing down. Dylan walked in and saw me. I tried to run, but he grabbed my arm with one hand and punched me in the face with the other.
It stunned me, I’d never been punched before in my life. I tried to fight back, but I was already stumbling as he dragged me back towards the elevator, cursing at me the entire way. He pushed me into the elevator hard enough that I slammed up against the opposite wall. As the door closed, he sank his fist into my abdomen and I fell, sliding to the floor. Everything went dim except for the pain and I felt the hard sole of his shoe kicking me.
I tasted blood just before I passed out.
I wasn’t tied to the chair anymore. This time, Dylan had bound me in the corner, my hands wrenched behind my back and my feet tied together. My head feel like it was about to explode and the entire room was spinning. I couldn’t quite focus on anything. The world had taken on a subtle fuzziness around the edges. That wasn’t good at all.
Dylan was sitting on the floor, his eyes crazed as he raked his gaze up and down. I felt dirty just being looked at. He straightened when he saw my eyes open. “Why did you have to do that?” He was really complaining about me escaping? I would have scoffed if my throat didn’t feel like I’d swallowed broken glass. “I had a plan. It was all going to work out fine. Why did you have to ruin it?” He yelled that last bit and I flinched.
I had no idea how long I’d been out. I thought Dylan was wearing the same clothes that he’d been in when he’d kidnapped me, but I wasn’t sure. Now they looked rumpled, like he’d pulled at his shirt’s collar and maybe laid down for a while. I felt like I’d been run over by a truck. My muscles were stiff and sore and each little movement was a new agony. If this is what it felt like to get into a fight, I was never doing that again.
Assuming I survived.
His cell phone rang and he jumped. But he stood, placing his gun on the kitchen counter while he spoke. I guess he realized I couldn’t very well fight him while I was bound on the floor. He was right.
I wanted to curl into myself and cry. I didn’t deserve this, I had barely done anything wrong. And certainly nothing that warranted being held at gunpoint by a murderous lunatic. But tears weren’t going to get me out of this situation. I needed my wits, I needed to pay attention to what Dylan wanted me to do, and I needed to do whatever it took to get out of the cuffs and out of the apartment. I tried not to think too hard about what he might ask, it only made my stomach turn.
I eased onto my side, rolling over a tender bruise in the process. A little yelp escaped, but I kept going, wedging myself up against the wall until I was in a sitting position. That didn’t help my head and I felt like I was going to throw up. But sitting was better than lying down and I was determined to stay there.
Dylan came towards me and I was sure he was going to hit me for the
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