An Oath In Blood (Book #3)

Chapter 21: Spa Day

WARREN HALE

Someone was rubbing sandpaper on the roof of my mouth. That was the first thing I noticed when I came to my senses. A bitter taste pooled in the back of my throat and I gagged before my eyes fully opened and I registered my surroundings.

A pair of feline eyes were staring at me when I forced my sticky eyes to snap open. Green eyes that regarded me curiously, gently. A soft purr escaped the white cat as it raised a paw and put it against my cheek in a caress. At least it felt like it was one. But I had still not fully recovered from having woken up God knew where and I was pretty sure I had a concussion from the way my head pounded as if announcing my doom to me.

"Meow." The cat tilted its head to the side as it removed the paw from my cheek and stepped back, regarding me.

I opened my mouth to speak but the sandpaper in my mouth prickled my throat, a sickly sweet taste settling itself on my taste buds. I gagged again and the cat cowered from me, the bravado, the curiosity gone from its eyes.

I peeled my gaze away from it long enough to see that I was in a narrow alley. An exposed brick wall stood in front of me but when I tried to look over my shoulder, I froze. I couldn't move my body. Glancing down at myself, I realized that I was tied with a thick rope that wound its way from my chest to my feet.

Fuck.

Alarm bells went off in my head a moment later when suddenly bits and pieces from last night started to come back to me. The motel. The candles. The roses. The woman. The corridor. Footsteps. And then nothing.

Close behind the recollection came the realization that no one knew where I was. And I had a plane to catch today. Or had it already left? How long had I been out? How long had I been lying in this dingy alley that reeked of cigarette butts as well as actual butts?

The cat meowed cautiously as it approached me again, flicking a paw against my cheek. I winced as its claw slashed through my skin. Not so friendly anymore, huh, buddy? As I shot the cat a glare, it ran away from me, jumping on top of the dumpster against the exposed brick wall. It watched me smugly from there and I sighed. Even the cat wasn't on my side.

Now that I knew where I was and what my predicament was, I tried to wriggle my hands out of the rope tied around my wrists. Maybe if I could get my hands free, I could get out of the rest of the bondage. But my hands refused to move even an inch. I gritted my teeth, fighting against the mindnumbing pain that laced through my fingers as I tried to cut through the ropes.

I wriggled on the filthy ground of the alley, my dignity dissolving with the small puddle of what I could only put as cat pee a few feet away from me. But in vain. The ropes didn't budge even an inch, the situation slowly suffocating me since the gag bound around my mouth hadn't yet.

After what seemed like hours but were perhaps only a few minutes, I gave up, letting my head fall back on the ground. A moudly spot on the side of the building caught my eye and I stared at it, wondering if this was how I was going to die.

I didn't know who had brought me here, who had hurt me. But I knew that no one was coming to save me. Because no one knew where Warren Hale was.

......

I'd drifted into unconsciousness once again perhaps from dehydration. And when I woke up again, the sandpaper in my mouth had disappeared. That was the first thing I noticed because I no longer felt the urge to gag or hurl. The hard floor of the alley had transformed into a soft mattress that smelled like pumpkin spice and fall.

"He's smiling like a baby." I heard a voice whisper in a distance. It took me a few seconds to realize that the person was talking about me.

"Shut up." Another voice, much sharper, cut through my daze. My eyes flew open as recognition dawned on me. I'd recognize the voice even in the depths of Hell.