Lovenapped

Leyla's Realisation

I wake in a dark room; the only light being emitted from a fluorescent tube across the middle of the cracking ceiling. Cob webs hang across the roof like party streamers and the smell of damp envelopes my nostrils making me want to vomit. I try to move my hands to cover my nose but find them bound to a rickety chair, rope cutting into the skin around my wrists. As my eyes slowly adjust to the darkness I see a figure emerging in front of me. He is wearing a skin-tight top showing his bulging arm muscles and abs, with a pair of chinos and white trainers. I can't see his face; he is keeping it in the shadows so only the whites of his eyes can be seen. I try to call out to him but find my mouth cellotaped shut. A chuckle hums through the room bouncing off the decaying walls echoing loudly. Even though my mouth is gagged I try to make some sound, mumbles and groans making their way through the tape and across the room. I kick out but find my ankles bound too, the effort of kicking out cause blood to trickle from where the rope is digging into my skin.

"Leyla Capri," the man growls stepping forward his face finally being revealed by the weak light of the tubing above us. He has a smooth complexion, big brown eyes, hair escaping its combed back style and simple surrounding his mischievous smile. If I wasn't tied to a chair I'd say he was handsome but there's a look in his eye that scares me. How does he know my name? I've never seen this guy before in my whole entire life.

"You are quite a hard girl to track down," the voice rumbles as he continues to step towards me. I shake my head trying to see how well the ties are constructed, trying to see if I can wriggle my wrists out of them and fight back but I can't see anything-they have been tied behind.

"No need to struggle," the guys' eyes darken, "as long as you help me nothing bad will happen to you." I close my eyes. I had literally just been in the library getting some books for my university work. How the hell have I ended up here? I think back...

Flashback

I walk to the desk in the library carrying three books on the Mughal Empire. My parents had encouraged me to do my dissertation on the history of the country where I was born. I had smiled and agreed not realising just how much I'd have to read around my chosen subject. I have to admit though it is actually quite interesting.

"Ah Leyla back again?" The frail librarian croaks as I let the books fall into the desk. I smile. She is a nice woman really even though a lot of people are scared of her. As long as you follow her rules she can be quite sweet-and I'm on her good side!

"Yes Mrs Manzo, just these today though," I smile as she begins to scan them. As I pass my library card over the desk I feel a pair of eyes latch onto my back. It makes a chill creep down my spine but I dare not turn around in case it's one of the bitchy girls or worse an ex-boyfriend stalking me. That's the problem with watching a lot of crime dramas... I have become somewhat paranoid about people stalking me. I try to hold my smile in place as the hair on my neck stands on end.

"Three weeks Leyla," Mrs Manzo raises her eyebrows at me playfully passing the books back to me. I slide them into my rucksack before swinging it onto my back regretting the swing as the books bash into my back. I take my card from her outstretched hand and slip it into my pocket before shuffling from the desk, keeping my eyes down. The eyes I can feel boring holes into me follow me from the desk to the revolving doors. Hopefully being in a crowded street will give me cover to slip away or lose the wandering eyes. I push through the doors, quickening my pace as my feet hit the pavement outside. I glance up and down the street. I can either try to make it to the bus stop and catch the idling bus or I can walk through the park which will be busy with the Christmas market. I choose the park; I don't have the legs to make it to the bus before it leaves and the walk will do me good. So, I turn left and start towards the park the eyes still leeched onto me. Using my freezing fingers, I pull the collar of my jacket up around my neck trying to stop this chill taking over but I realise with dread it's not the cold wind giving me the chills... it's these eyes following me. As I make my way through the archway into the park I quicken my pace feeling my shins start to burn. I never walk this fast but for some reason my breathe keeps catching in my throat. To say it's supposed to be the Christmas market the park seems to be pretty empty which worries me slightly. Maybe I should have gone for the bus.