Dancing With The Devil

Chapter 16

I froze for a moment, not even able to process what I needed to do. In the dark I didn't know if I needed to bolt or to scream or who was even in my home. Unfortunately, that split second was all the time the intruder needed. It happened so quickly, I wasn't entirely sure how, but the invader was suddenly behind me, creating a barrier between me and my only exit as his larger hand covered my mouth, preventing me from screaming. When I was able to function again I threw my elbow backwards, hoping to strike him in the stomach. The blow would cause him to double over and leave him gasping. He caught it with ease. I brought my leg back to kick him, but he pressed his weight into me, unbalancing me so my blow never connected. I thrashed my body as hard as I could, hoping a limb would hit soft tissue or that I would wriggle hard enough to get out of the tight grasp that surrounded me. I just needed to get my mouth free so I could scream until someone called the police, or startle him into letting me go.

I wasn't exactly sure what I could do if I managed to get free. The only exit was blocked. My balcony was too high to jump off of, I would surely plummet to my death. My only option was screaming and wailing until someone else either came to check up on me or called the police. But all I could do now was throw my body around as roughly as I could.

I'm not sure how long the struggle lasted. It could've been seconds or minutes, the panic had killed my perception of time. But I was getting exhausted. It seemed like my captor anticipated every single one of my moves, blocking, dodging and catching every attempt I threw out. I let out a frustrated scream, but it was muffled by his hand that was still clamped over my mouth. My energy was draining; my fight was weakening while he remained just as strong and just as quick.

"Come on, Camila, you can't win." The voice was loosely familiar, but I couldn't place it. Still, it sounded soothing and relaxed, like this was something that happened every day.

I tried to scream defiantly, letting him know I would not give in so easily, but barely any noise made it passed his hand. Tears filled my eyes, from frustration and defeat. My body was sweating, my arms were aching, my legs had been placed in such an awkward position that they were deemed useless, and the arms that were holding me still were unrelenting. I was breathing hard, but the hold over my mouth was making it difficult. My fighting slowed down.

"There you go." The man murmured. His voice was so level considering I had just fought for my life. "I'm going to let you go because I think you're smart enough to calm down and have a simple conversation with me. If you choose to prove me wrong I will have no problem tying you up, gagging you and throwing you in the back of my car. Do you understand?"

I hesitated, trying to go through all of my options as quickly as possible.

I had none.

I just bobbed my head in the slightest nod. At least then I would be able to breathe properly again and there was a chance that my circumstances would change to give me a better chance of escape.

I was released slowly. He moved his legs away from mine, allowing me to have a normal stance. I just shuffled to stand up properly. My legs were cramping horribly, telling me I had been fighting with this man for longer than I had originally assumed. The arm restricting my upper body loosened, allowing my arms to relax down to my sides instead of being twisted in awkward positions. But before he uncovered my mouth he turned on the light. A second later his hands were completely off my body and I whirled around instantly.

The first thing I noticed was how his hand twitched towards the metal gun that was secured in a holster at his hip, tucked under a suit jacket. The gesture made every scream for help, every cry for the police, and every protest die on my lips.