Who'd You Rather? (H.S.) [ONGOING]

Part Sixty-Six

Tegan was already late. She was supposed to meet Harry twenty minutes ago and she hadn't even left her house yet. It took her fifteen minutes just to find her car keys. But when she did, she quickly whipped open her front door, ready to spend the day with the perfect man in her life.

"Get inside. Now," she heard a deep menacing voice, making her blood run cold.

A second later, she was being pushed back into the house by the man she'd been living in fear of for the last few weeks. Her stalker. The pap who camped outside of her house numerous times and even followed her and Harry to Catalina Island.

This couldn't be happening. Why was this happening?

The man quickly slammed the door and locked it behind the two of them as Tegan stood frozen between the living room and the kitchen. She was absolutely terrified. She wanted to somehow get her phone out of her purse and call Harry, but she knew the man would never allow it.

"Wh-what do you want?" She stammered as her voice shook, along with her body.

"Get on the floor. Face down," he snapped immediately, disregarding her question all together.

"What are you gonna do to me? What do you want?" She asked as her heart pounded heavily in her chest and the anxiety flared up inside her.

"Get. On. The. Floor. NOW," he growled, his dark eyes narrowing menacingly at her.

"Fuck," she whimpered under her breath as she slowly got down on her knees before lying completely down on her belly.

She could feel the fear in every part of her being as a panic attack built up inside of her and her breathing became ragged and unsteady. She could hear the blood passing through her ears as her heart beat out of control — thump, thump, thump — and she could see her face moving closer and then farther away from the hardwood floor as her chest rose and fell, heaving out her breaths. Her hands were trembling even though they lay palms down on the floor on either side of her head.

She tried to take deep breaths to calm herself but it only seemed to make everything worse, her heart pounding faster and faster with every inhale and exhale.

Suddenly she felt hot. So incredibly hot. She regretted putting on the sweatshirt she was wearing. The hood sunk against the back of her neck making it worse, trapping the heat against her.

"Put your hands behind your back," the sinister voice told her.

She squeezed her eyes shut tightly, feeling the sting of tears in the back of her eyes. She was going to die. She was sure of it. He was going to kill her.

"Do I have to say it again? Put your fucking hands behind your back, bitch," he snarled, causing her to whimper, then shriek when she felt him grab her wrist and twist her arm behind her.

"Ah. Fuck," she hissed, feeling the pain and discomfort as she quickly brought the other arm back before he decided to yank on that one too.

Her hot cheek pressed against the coolness of the wood floor, but the difference in temperature only seemed to shock her system instead of bringing her any kind of relief.

She suddenly felt a cable tie around her wrists, biting at her skin as he cinched them tightly together. Where the fuck did he get cable ties? Did he bring them with? Was this his plan all along? Was he just waiting for the perfect moment to get her alone? To do this?

She was going to die. Oh, god. He was going to kill her.

When she felt him take her shoes off her feet, the panic only got worse. What the fuck? What was he going to do to her?