Chapter Seventeen

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Scale Number: 4 (After she's knocked out)

Cat sat there on the sofa, staring at her hands folded in the middle of her lap. She hadn't moved for what felt like hours, ever since Kal had re-shattered her reality. Her knees were starting to get sore from being bent under her for so long. Letting out a soft hiccup, she sniffed again, listening to the jaggedness of her breathing.

Behind a closed door, Kal was on the phone, not having said another word to her since dropping a life altering bomb on her. She couldn't hear the words clearly, just the muffled sound of talking; angrily.

Either way, there was no room in her mind to care, it was too busy with thoughts of her situation.

She had been tricked into believing this man was her savior, even if in her defense, she'd known the cops that had shown up to meet him at the house. Had he tricked them too? If so, how? It didn't matter how, all that mattered was that he had. And now she was trapped by some guy in a place she was unfamiliar with.

Had that been his plan the entire time?

Get her alone in a foreign place so it would be harder to run from him?

Why did she go along with it so willingly?

Was it because of the strange attraction she had to him?

Her attraction... She had allowed him to touch her... Would have allowed him to do things that some people couldn't have imagined in their wildest dreams. Cat swallowed hard, hating herself for how easily he'd tricked her into almost sleeping with him. She was right before, when she thought she was falling for her rescuer, there was a name for that. Now that he was a kidnapper and not a hero, this was bordering on Stockholm Syndrome.

Fuck! What was wrong with her? She wondered to herself silently.

Her dark thoughts were interrupted when the bedroom door opened.

Cat peeled her eyes from her lap to look up, finding a stoic looking Kal walking toward her. Only he didn't spare her a single look as he went for his bag, grabbing up the gun she'd dropped there. Tucking it into the back of the waistband of his pants, he stood to adjust his shirt over it. Buttoning the front of it, the man turned away without a single word.

When it was clear he was headed for the door, she unfolded her stiff legs to set her feet against the hard floor. "Where are you going?"

"I have work to do," he said harshly, not bothering to turn around as he addressed her.

"Now?" She stood, but immediately had to sit back down when her legs buzzed with numbness. Not sure she wanted to approach him anyway, reminding her of a wounded animal, who might lash out at her. Although she couldn't figure out why he had any reason to be angry, she hadn't been lying to him since she met him. "Aren't we going to talk about this?"

Finishing the buttons on his shirt, "What is there to discuss?" Watching as he stops long enough to unlock the door, "You'll stay here until I know it's safe and return for you."

"Kal, stop," she tried to demand, this time staying upright when she rose to her feet. But it was already too late, he was yanking the door open, slamming it closed behind him before she could get another word in. The loud noise echoing around the expensive suite, making her flinch. She stood there for several minutes, dropping to her knees when they could no longer support her weight.

They had finally started getting along, now there were far more negatives than positives currently being presented.

There was a gnawing at the back of her mind.

If he'd been lying to her about something as big as her safety, what else could he have been lying about?

Her eyes shifted from the door to his bag, only finding the gun just inside after she'd found money in the bottom of hers. Wondering what he had, but he'd come out before she's gotten any further. Part of her wondered what else he'd been hiding in the bags from her, after all he hadn't let her pack or carry them. Finding enough strength in her legs to reposition herself on the couch, she hesitated before touching the zipper of his bag.

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