Groovy Overkills

Chapter Twenty

No matter how hard Scarlet's heart pounded in fear, it wasn't enough to break through the black net prison encasing her body. It kept her limbs tight against her, making most movement impossible. Cramps were already forming in various muscles. Far worse than the pain and discomfort, however, was the insidiously claustrophobic nature of this trap. Managing her breathing would be critical lest she hyperventilate beyond the point of no return.

She currently lay on her side. Her shoulder bore the painful brunt of her weight. Should she shift to her back? Maybe. But first, she needed answers. "Herb?" she pleaded. "What's going on?"

He simply stood there, an unreadable expression on his face. Why wasn't he answering? Such behavior wasn't like him at all.

"Please tell me this is nothing more than a new bondage game."

The chances were slim to nonexistent, but she had to try something to get him to respond. He would always tell her in advance if he wanted to engage in some kinky fun. He knew not to spring any heavy-duty restraints on her. She had told him about the dark places her mind might go if they didn't carefully plan the sessions in advance. Too many horrendous experiences in her childhood had led to the development of many triggers, so the last thing she wanted was to inadvertently lash out at him when they were supposed to be enjoying themselves.

"We both know I wouldn't spring something like that on you." His voice sounded flat, emotionless.

Her brows furrowed. What was wrong with him?

A fresh sense of dread filled her. If this net wasn't a bondage device, then what ultimate purpose did it have?

"What is it, then?" She flopped onto her back. Despite the new position, the horrible, helpless feeling of complete and total entrapment remained. "How did it get in here? Has someone targeted us?" Pointless questions, perhaps, but the truth could very well prove to be unbearable. Denial was in order. Distraction. Anything to avoid facing the possibility that Herb was behind this nefarious attack.

The thought made her anxiety spike even higher. Oh, no. Not that. Not her precious husband—the man who held her complete and utter trust in the palm of his hand. Please, no.

He turned and headed for his dresser. What was he up to now? She had to crane her neck to see him.

"You're smarter than that, Scarlet," he said, speaking over his shoulder. "I brought it in here, obviously." He began pulling out a fresh set of underclothes.

The stinging truth sent a shiver of fear down her spine. "If you needed to test a new weapon, why didn't you tell me?"

He sighed heavily. "It didn't need testing."

Her heart sank. Not some misguided attempt to surprise her, then. He'd used a perfected weapon on her. The implications of that unsettled her deeply. She knew her questions were off the mark, but giving him the benefit of the doubt was easier than facing the possibility that he had turned against her for some reason. "I don't understand. Herb, you're scaring me. I don't like this game anymore. Please get me out of this thing."

"That's not going to happen."

A spark of anger lit her blood. There was clearly more to this situation than met the eye. "Why the hell not?"

He pulled on underwear, an undershirt and socks. "I can't tell you."

"Can't tell me what?" she demanded. Why was he being so cagey? Dishonesty was something he did with other people, other villains. Never with her.

He disappeared into his closet.

She gaped. So rude! Turning his back on her like that wasn't normal for him, either.

"When have you ever kept a secret from me?" she yelled. "What's changed? Something happened when you went missing, didn't it?" A horrifying thought occurred to her. "Did you even really go missing?"

Had all her trauma been for nothing? She couldn't bear the thought of his disappearance being deliberate. And if so, what could possibly have motivated him? All the questions piling up in her mind were making her dizzy. Herb certainly wasn't helping matters by refusing to level with her.

He emerged from the closet and passed back into her line of vision. He was fully dressed and carried a pair of black shoes. She could barely wrap her mind around his outfit. Save for his usual purple dress shirt, he wore all black. The sight puzzled her. He sometimes wore black pants or a jacket, but not both together. He was partial to color, stylish patterns, and flair. Well, he usually was. It frightened her to think there were things about Herb she didn't know anything about.

"I'm not sure I care for that outfit." Disapproval oozed from her voice. A ridiculously petty detail to focus on, but her frail emotional state was going to crack to pieces if she didn't fortify it with anger. Anger and hate had helped her survive difficult situations more times than she cared to count.

Avoiding her gaze, he sat on a chair in the corner of the room and slipped into his shoes.

She kept pressing him, determined to find answers. "What really happened last night? You didn't just pass out drunk in an alley, did you?" She hissed. "Did someone blackmail you to get at me? I'll fight them, pay them off, whatever it takes. Just get me out of this thing!"

Herb stood and made a few final adjustments to his jacket. Turned to leave. At the door, he paused and looked back at her. Their gazes locked out of pure habit, but she had never felt so disconnected from him. He opened his mouth as if to speak—and then closed it.

Then he left the room without another word.

Panic flooded her. "Don't leave me! Herb! Where are you going? Herb!"

She tried rolling over to chase after him, but the ever-constricting net made that strategy a dangerous one. Stranded on her back in the middle of the bedroom, she screamed for him to return until her voice grew hoarse. All for naught, because he didn't come back. The room grew eerily silent in the wake of his departure.

Was he leaving her? If so, why? And why go to the trouble of trapping her? She couldn't figure out anything she'd done to drive him away. She loved him! She had supported him from day one, paying for everything he needed. Risked her life to steal anything he desired. She was a magnificent wife, damn it! None of this situation made any sense.

The true gravity of her predicament soon dawned on her. The fortress' powerful security system meant no one could enter it without permission. With Herb gone, no one would be able to check in on her, assuming anyone thought to do so. Why would they? The only people she'd established any kind of relationships with were all villains. Many were loyal to her, but only as far as business was concerned. Like her, they were all ultimately out for themselves. They certainly weren't wondering if she was safe in her own home.

So much for being the greatest supervillain of all time, if it meant zero support during the greatest crisis of her life.

Oh, Herb. Why are you doing this to me?

Had she accidentally done something to hurt him? She didn't think so, but how else to explain his cold, hateful reaction to her? Though it made no logical sense, she could only conclude she'd done something so devastating that he didn't even want to confront her about it. So awful he no longer wanted her in his life.

She whimpered in fear. If that was the case, did he want revenge as well? Was Herb leaving her here to die?