Bound

Chapter 1

Chapter 1

Samantha felt the chains digging in her wrists and ankles, the blood flowing freely from the gashes when she pulled at her bindings hard enough. She had to get out of there. She stilled when she heard the thud of boots heading for the dirty cell she was locked in. She tried to control her panic as she knew what that noise signified.

The cell door creaked open and a man with a cruel mouth stepped in. His skin was brown and most of it was wrapped up in a trench coat which he removed as he walked deeper into the room. Underneath the coat he was wearing a T-shirt and trousers.

“So, my little princess, have you decided to tell me the location of the headquarters?” he asked his hands going to unstrap the belt on his trousers.

Samantha spat at him.

He smiled, already knowing her answer. “One day, my princess, I am going to break you,” he promised, reaching for her.

Samantha woke up drenched in sweat. With trembling hands she reached for the glock 22 under her pillow, calming down a little as her hands gripped the hard metal. Damn, she hated those blasted nightmares. Those stupid things felt so real even though they were now a thing of the past. She walked to bathroom with the gun tucked in the waist of her sweat pants and splashed cold water on her face, hoping to dissipate the nightmare.

Samantha sighed; sleep was a lost cause now. She could never go back to sleep after having one of the nightmares. Actually, it was the same one, dark and twisted, and not so far off from reality. She had really needed the sleep tonight after staying up for almost thirty-six hours. Walking back into the room, she glanced at the clock- 03:12; barely two hours of sleep.

She rubbed her eyes and padded barefoot to kitchen to make some coffee. Her house was always quiet except the soft drum of the air conditioner. Sure, it made her paranoid, and cock her gun at any small noise but it was better than the other option of being unaware of the threat sneaking up on you.

Samantha switched on the coffee maker and sat on the couch with her laptop, reviewing her last mission. She worked at a security firm that supplied bodyguards, and being a female, it had been difficult to get clients.

Things were not improved by the fact that she worked alone; any old bodyguards had to go if you wanted her protection. She worked as a short term bodyguard for people who had been receiving serious threats from stalkers or worse.

It wasn’t in her to be a permanent bodyguard. She got bored being around the same people especially when action wasn’t involved. It had been tuff, but her boss, Joshua, had been well aware of her previous reputation so within months Samantha had clients piling up on her doorstep.

Samantha was checking her email when the coffee machine beeped, and she got up to get her daily dose of caffeine. She carried the mug of black brew back to couch, leaning toward the coffee table where her laptop was perched. She never kept the laptop on her lap. It took her precious seconds to dislodge the laptop from there if there was an unexpected threat. She never slept with a blanket for the same reason.

More often than not people had called her crazy, including her short-term therapist, and that was the reason she had been short term. But Samantha was set in her ways, her careful control of life brought around by experience and having safety procedures hammered into her head by her mentors.

Samantha now had the next week off. Joshua was very particular about giving his employees at least one week of rest between clients. That was one of the reasons Samantha loved working for him; he was kind, considerate, and attentive to his employee’s need. If not for him, Samantha might have started her own company. But Joshua gave the control she required and therefore Samantha never felt caged while working for him.

Samantha surfed the net for a couple of hours, looking at the current news from the army front, new proceedings in the weapon industry. At five, she changed into her basketball shorts, a T-shirt and threw on a light jacket for her daily run.

She made a circuit of five miles and stopped at the local café for breakfast. She ordered hot chocolate and a bagel to go and walked back to her apartment. Exiting the elevator, she immediately froze sensing something wasn’t right. She pulled out the gun she always carried and rounded the corner to her apartment.

“Whoa, it’s just me,” Joshua said, holding his hands up.

Samantha sighed and lowered her gun, “What are you doing here? You know better than to come unannounced.”

“And you are supposed to be sleeping,” Joshua said.

Samantha entered the security lock and held open the door for Joshua to enter. Another one of her hang ups- she never turned her back to anyone, not even Joshua.

Joshua entered, took his time looking around and faced her again, “Had another nightmare?”

“What are you doing here, Joshua?” Samantha asked.

Joshua grimaced but didn’t comment on the change of topic, “I wanted to know if you are up to take on another client.”

“When do I have to start?” Samantha asked.

“Tomorrow.”

Samantha raised her eyebrow. If there was one thing Joshua never compromised on, it was the one week rest rule.

“What's the emergency?” Samantha asked.

Joshua got straight to the point, another thing Samantha liked about him. “Damon Wilson has been receiving threat letters for a few weeks now. Yesterday he was mobbed and his bodyguard was killed. Thankfully, he managed to escape before they could get to him and now he’s desperate for a replacement, and only wants the best.”

And Samantha was the best.

“Any suspects?” Samantha asked, walking towards her laptop.

“Not at the moment but he is a powerful man and obviously has a lot of enemies,” Joshua said. “So you up for it?”

“I always am.”