Captured

by SdaisyS

Anastasia is kidnapped, taken by Christian Grey because someone she knows owes his boss, Jack Hyde, money. Does she really know this person? Will they pay up before the deadline? What will happen if they don't pay in time? OOC/AU *I do not own Fifty Shades of Grey* My Forbidden Love Challenge Entry! Voted #1 Forbidden Winner

.

Captured

Christian/Anastasia
Forbidden Love: Kidnapper/Victim

---

~C~

"I have a job for you." Jack says as he tosses the folder between us.

We're at Fifty's Pub, a local Bar & Grill type of establishment in Seattle that Jack and I own. I bought it for him, but everyone thinks he owns it because I'm a silent partner.

Fifty's is the go to hot-spot for placing bets on all sports, MMA being the most popular here; I've even held my own in a few fights when I was younger. Fifty's is closed right now, only the two of us are here, the cook having just made Jack some food before he left out the back with the bartenders. It maybe be just after 3 am, but I don't sleep much.

I've known Jack for over 16 years and have been working for him since I was 15. He's the only one who has ever been there for me, since I was 13, and taught me everything I know. We're like family, best friends, I'm basically his right hand man. He's a bookie, has been since we were kids, and if they don't pay their debt, that's where I come in. He and I are ride or die, and nothing could come between us, not even Jason Taylor, the lead detective who likes to investigate us along with his partner Luke Sawyer.

"$50,000." He lists the price he'll pay me once I complete this job, double than any other before.

"What's the catch?" I ask, reaching for and opening folder before pulling out the file.

Inside is all the information I'll need to do this job; it lists a full background check of a girl, a photo, and much more.

"It's not our usual MO."

"How so?" I ask, not looking up from the information I'm going over. "How much does she owe?"

"She doesn't owe anything." He says, pointing at the girl before he takes a bite of his burger.

"I'm not following."

"Someone she knows owes me money." He wipes his mouth before he speaks. "We're going to hold her for it until he pays."

"We don't usually work that way." I remind him. "I normally fuck up the guy until he pays. Besides, Andrea usually takes care of the females."

"Like I said, it's not our usual MO." He continues to eat as he talks, like we're discussing the weather. It's nothing new, it's how we always do things. "Fucking them up isn't doing it anymore, they're not caring and it's taking longer to get my money. Now, if we went after their loved ones, with a deadline, they would be even more inclined to pay me. So, we threaten them with their loved one's life."

"I see that."

"They have 2 weeks to pay me, or else we move on to the next and the next, until they have no one left. This fucker," He points to the name of the guy who owes him, "It took Barney longer than I would've liked to find someone he cares about. He has no one, literally, and when I finally found her... it was like hitting the jackpot. She's the only one in his life, so he's bound to pay, perhaps more than he owes, to get her back."

I'm still hesitant to agree, I've never done this before. Sure, I have killed before, but never someone so... innocent.

"Oh, come on, you could have a little fun with her while you wait for him to pay, she looks like a cock tease. Or, if you would rather I have Ros do it, I can see if he's free. I would take her myself, but I have to be in New York next week and I can't very well take her with, or leave her for a few days."

And that is what has me sitting in the Clayton's hardware parking lot.

It took me a few days to finally agree. I went over her profile, her background check, looking at her photo over and over until I finally decided that if this girl was going to be held for money, she was going to be safe and comfortable while she was. She's just too fucking innocent for this shit and Ros is a fucking shark. Everyone who deals with Jack knows who I am. They would rather deal with Ros than me, but I know Ros is not to be messed with; I trained Ros myself. I may not have a heart, but letting Ros do this job, when this girl is so innocent, I just couldn't do it.

Ros likes to rape, so does Jack, but I don't. It's the one thing we don't agree on. I know some people would wonder why I'm friends with them when I don't agree, but just because I prefer consensual sex, doesn't mean anything. Besides, I've done some pretty fucked up shit myself, who am I to judge.

With Jack set in his ways, trying to make a point with this one, I've been following her for weeks and learning her routines. I'm a master at stalking and not being noticed by anyone. I even broke into her apartment and took a few items and clothing, that she will need, and made note of the products she uses and food she has, so I could have everything ready when I finally took her.

Jack wanted me to take her as soon as possible, but she was set to graduate soon and had finals. I didn't want her to miss out on that opportunity so I came up with some bullshit lie, telling Jack I needed more time to be sure we could do this without anyone knowing she was taken. I planned to take her on her last day at Clayton's, because everyone will think she has moved on with her life and not question why she isn't around, so that's why I'm here, waiting for the right opportunity.

There are plenty of ways and opportunities for me to take her; break into her apartment and wait until she's alone, or sleeping, unhook the battery cables so she has car trouble or cause her to have a flat tire and I just so happen to be there to help her before she can call anyone, wait in the backseat of her car at night, flirt with her at a bar and slip something in her drink, the list is endless. Though that last one does sound intriguing. I could even ask her out on a date and never bring her back.

Hmmmm... I've never went on a date before.

Get that out of your head, Grey, you've already decided how to do this.

I just hope she doesn't get hurt.

What the fuck, Grey?! Why would that matter?

Shaking that from my thoughts, I think about everything I've already set everything into motion.

Today, while she was on her lunch break and her back was turned, I took her cell phone out of her bag so she couldn't call for help tonight. After she came back to Clayton's hardware store to finish the second half of her shift, I filled her gas tank up, because I'm going to need a full tank with that death trap she calls a car. We're going to drive hours away from here and I don't want to run out of gas before we get there, and I don't know how much gas she already has in her car.

Now I just have to wait until she's off work.

As the days went by, I became obsessed with her, I wanted her, I couldn't wait any longer to have her with me. It was harder and harder not to take her sooner, but I had to wait until after graduation. And looking through her phone photos isn't helping my obsession and sudden need to be near her either.

What is she doing to me?

I know I can't be seen near her, I can't approach her, but I'm itching to talk to her, just once, to see her smile and blush like I've seen while following her these past couple weeks, or to witness close up the way she seems to trip over thin air.

"Fuck it."

In the end, my attraction for her wins. I get out of the stolen car I'm 'borrowing' and go inside the hardware store where she works to find her.

It's a just job, a job like any other I've done before, nothing will change that. Nothing.

---

~A~

I'm restocking screws when I hear the bell above the door go off, announcing we have another customer. I secretly want to thank them for waiting until now to come through, because just an hour earlier, we were busy. While it is my last day here, it's spring. It's that time of year when all the do-it-yourselfers and those obsessed with home improvement come out. This being hardware store, spring is our busiest season, summer coming in at a close second.

I don't mind the extra hours, but it does put a strain on study time. Thankfully I've just graduated, Kate and I are moving to Seattle this weekend, and I have a few interviews lined up on Monday.

But I really just can't wait to go home. On top of us being busy, I lost my phone while I was on my lunch break.

Today is just not my day.

"Excuse me, miss?" I hear a man ask.

I try not to be annoyed with him, but I am busy restocking and he had to pass Paul, who isn't doing anything at the moment, before finding me in the back of the store.

But when I turn around, it's hard to be upset.

The man is seriously beautiful, if I a man could be classified as such. He's like a freaking male model that puts Jamie Dornan to shame, if that's even possible.

I'm no longer annoyed and pleased that he is interrupting me instead of asking Paul for help.

"Ye-yes?" I blush when I stutter.

"Are you free?"

"Yes, what can I help you with?" I ask, getting into my no nonsense, professional demeanor; squaring my shoulders and pretending that I know more than I do when it comes to this stuff.

After working here for four years, I know where everything is in this store, and thankfully I had Ray to teach me manly things.

"Do you stock cable ties?"

"Cable ties," I repeat, my ever present blush has yet to leave my cheeks. "Yes."

I tell him to follow me and walk towards the front of the story, down aisle 8.

No wonder he needed help, he passed them. He must not be from around here. And I know I've never seen him before, I would've remembered.

"Are you in town on business?" I ask, curious and making casual conversation.

"Yes." Is all he says, giving nothing away.

When we reach the cable ties, I wave my hand over the display and immediately want to smack myself.

Seriously, Ana? Waving your hand like some game show host, like it's a brand new car instead of freaking cable ties!

He doesn't seem to notice my inner turmoil and chooses the largest set; big enough to fit both wrists or both ankles.

Whoa. Okay. That was a weird thought; stupid erotica fanfiction.

"Did you need help finding anything else?" I ask politely, hoping that he doesn't need my help anymore; I'm already making a fool of myself. But at the same time, I want to stay near him. It's a heady confusing mix of emotions.

"Tape."

And if the wave of my hand wasn't bad enough, I somehow trip over my own feet and almost end up falling flat on my face. Luckily, the man grabs me before I can face-plant.

After apologizing and thanking him, I lead him to the aisle with all our tapes, not saying a word the whole way. I do, however, glance back to see him fighting a smirk.

The bastard is laughing at my clumsiness.

When we arrive at the tape, I don't wave my hand at them like an idiot. Instead, I pick up the one inch masking tape and two inch duct tape and hold them out for him to choose.

He reaches for the 2 inch duct tape, brushing his fingers against mine as he grabs it. A shiver runs through me and I feel my nipples harden.

Crossing my arm over my chest, so he doesn't notice my nipples, I wait for him to speak. However, he just stands there, looking at me, not saying a word.

It's unnerving, his staring, it's like he can see right through me.

"Anything else?" I break the silence, but my voice doesn't go louder than a whisper. I seriously sound like a porn star and we're about to get it on.

"Rope, I think." He glances up and down my body quickly. "Yes, I'll definitely need some rope."

Did he just check me out?!

"This way." I lead him to where we keep the ropes.

On the way, when I look back to make sure he's following me, I catch him checking out my ass this time.

He is checking me out! I'm glad I wore my favorite pair of jeans today.

"What sort were you after?" I ask as we walk, swaying my hips a bit more than necessary. "We have synthetic and natural filament rope . . . twine . . . cable cord-" I halt at his expression.

His eyes are darkening and he looks a little turned on. By rope?

"I'll take 5 yards of the natural filament rope."

I quickly measure out five yards against the fixed ruler, well aware that he is still watching me with that sexy, dark expression.

What is this guy's fixation with rope?

He tries to make causal conversation with me while I cut the rope, but I'm too shy to talk much about anything else but hardware supplies.

"What else would you recommend?" He asks, in an attempt to keep me talking. At least, I imagine that's why he's asking.

I really don't like when customers ask me that, because I'm crap at DIY and I don't know anything about what he's planning to do with cable ties, duct tape, and the rope he seems to enjoy way too much. And I don't want to ask, or know what he's planning, because if he's using these items to fix his aunt's lobster cage or something, it will ruin my buzz I've got going. I'd rather imagine he's using these items for something kinky.

Maybe I'm the one with the rope fascination.

"Perhaps, plastic sheets?" I suggest, trying to avoid anything that could further make my imagination go wild.

His eyes darken further and he smirks hard. The look confuses me and turns me on at the same time, which is doubly confusing.

If I thought rope turned him on, the plastic sheets are going to make him cum in his pants.

"I prefer silk." He says in his husky tone.

"Silk?" Silk, what?

He raises his brow and it's now that I realize he's talking about sheets, silk bed sheets, not plastic.

Why would he, or anyone for that matter, want to purchase bedding at a hardware store?

"Oh. Well, this is a hardware store," I remind him. "We don't carry linen. You could try Bed, Bath, and Beyond."

"I'll do that."

"Okay, so," I say after a long silence. "Anything else?"

"I think this should do it."

"Great." I hand him the rope. "Now you're the complete serial killer."

Though adding the plastic sheets would benefit his serial killer kit.

The mood suddenly shifts. He doesn't find my little joke as funny and his smirk, that he was sporting the entire time has fallen from his face, gone completely.

That's when he leaves, almost in a rush to get out of the store and nearly bumping into another customer.

Paul was at the register, but I saw the man paying with cash. I guess I can't look through the credit card receipts later to find his name, since I was too shy to ask for it.

The rest of my day dragged, nothing interesting happening after the man left, just the same regular costumers.

But I found myself daydreaming about him tying me up with the items he bought and having his wicked way with me in the back. I even played with the cable ties, tape and rope as I walked passed them, wondering what he plans to do with those three items. I know he probably has some real legit reason as to why he bought those items, maybe he needed to fix something, but maybe he's a freak who likes to tie women up.

My daydreaming is interrupted, coming to a halt by Mr. Clayton who gives me a hug and tells me my last shift at Clayton's is officially over.

They have a mini farewell party for me, because they are still open for another hour, and then I'm on my way.

"Bye, Paul." I say as I hang my vest up for the last time.

"Hang on, Ana, I'll walk you to your car."

I'd rather he didn't, because every time he does he asks me out.

Paul is a nice guy and all, just like all my guy friends are, but he doesn't do it for me, just like they don't. Sometimes I think there is something wrong with me, that I'm waiting for someone who doesn't even exist. Kate says I don't have the 'need a boyfriend gene', whatever that means. I blame it on my love for literature, they just don't make em like that anymore.

"That's okay." I turn Paul's offer down and head to the door.

"It's dark out." He uses as an excuse and follows me out.

As soon as I walk out the door, someone wearing a hoodie is walking towards the hardware store. I think nothing of it, because they are still open for another hour, but as soon as Paul steps out behind me, they turn around.

Now I'm thankful that Paul wanted to walk me out.

I don't know why, or what this person was planning, but this action has peeked my interest and causes me to look around the nearly empty lot.

Nothing is out of place, no unknown vehicles, so I pull my keys from my bag and turn to Paul.

"Hey, so," Paul begins, what has become his ritual. "I was wondering if you wanted to grab a drink, maybe tomorrow?"

"Sorry, we're still so busy packing. But I'll talk to Kate and José and see if we can all have one last get together before Kate and I move this weekend."

"Yeah, cool." He hugs me. "I'm gonna miss you, Ana."

I really do feel bad always turning guys down, but I just don't want to settle...

"Whoa, Paul." I push him away when he tries to kiss me. "No."

We pull apart when we hear a loud bang behind us.

When we turn in that direction, we don't see anything, mainly because it's getting dark out.

"Paul, we're friends." I get back to us instead of finding out what that noise was. I just want to go home and climb into bed, it's been a long day.

"I know, Ana. I'm sorry. I just thought- This is my last chance, before we move on with our lives. I mean, you're going to Seattle, I'm going to Princeton, I don't know when we'll see each other again. I just thought, if I kissed you, if I tell you how much I like you, I mean really like you... I know I should've said something a long time ago, but maybe we could-"

He stops when I shake my head, not wanting to rehash this with him.

Paul has told me he likes me, many times before, though in a joking kind of way but I knew he was serious. And I've always told him that I didn't feel the same, in that way.

"You know what, it's cool. I'd rather have you as a friend than not at all. Goodnight, Ana. And... goodbye."

He waits until I'm in my car before he walks back inside Clayton's.

As I'm backing out of the parking space, I hit something behind me. It's not very hard but it is enough to jolt me.

I swear I was paying attention, but obviously not; the accident is my fault.

"Shit."

But what could I of hit? Nothing was around me when I got in my car.

Looking into my rearview mirror, I see it is another car and the driver is signaling me to get out.

The parking lot is empty, but the Clayton's are still inside the store if I need them, and it is my fault, so I get out.

I leave my bag in the passenger seat but take my keys with me to inspect the damage; though there is none on either vehicle.

I'm about to turn around and tell him this, hoping we can avoid exchanging information, but before I can, I'm being pushed up against my car.

Without thinking, I drop my keys and scream, only for a leather covered hand to cover my mouth.

Shit! He's wearing gloves in 60 degree weather! This can't be good.

I can feel his breath on my neck. I can smell him, and damn if he doesn't smell good. It doesn't make sense.

The strong arm around my waist moves to grab my wrists and pulls them behind my back while keeping me pinned to my car with his hips.

Within seconds, something hard and plastic is wrapped around my wrists, like a makeshift cuff, clicking into place.

A piece of tape, which he probably already had ready because it's the perfect size, covers my mouth.

He lifts me easily, like I weigh nothing at all, and drags me to the trunk.

I kick and scream, though it comes out muffled now because of the tape, and push against the car, trying to knock him off balance.

He is obviously stronger, and overpowers me, regardless of how hard I fight against him.

Soon, I'm inside the trunk of my own car.

I wasn't able to see a thing, because it's dark and he was behind me the whole time, and nobody heard me.

I'm silent when I hear him start my car, cursing a few times as he tries to control and drive my shitty car that wont go beyond 50 mph. Wanda gives me a great upper arm workout, since the steering is fucked up, but it's mine and I love it, and right now I'm glad he is having trouble with her.

As I lay in my trunk, tears clouding my eyes, I'm seriously freaking out.

I've been kidnapped!

Okay, Ana, I tell myself, calm down.

Since I'm flexible, I'm able to move my hands from behind my back and bring them in front of my body. As soon as I can, I remove the tape from my mouth. I don't scream, or make any noise, though, because I don't want him to hear me or know that I'm taking off my bindings. I know a way to get the cable ties off, Ray has taught me with flex-cuffs and they are made of the same material, but I'm wearing flats and I need a shoe lace to do it so I'm shit out of luck. I don't have enough room to do it the other way he taught me.

Moving on to how to get out of the trunk, my first thought it to flag a driver.

I can remove the taillights from inside the trunk easily enough, but when I get it off, there is nothing to see. No headlights, no streetlights, nothing but darkness.

Since Wanda is pretty loud, I'm able to kick at the trunk without being heard. But unfortunately, Wanda wont budge and is too tough for me.

I have no way out.

So, instead, I try to remember everything from when Ray taught me self-defense, because I know I'm going to have to fight my way out of this. It's the only option I have left.

I try not to overthink it, because I wasn't able to fight him off before he put me in the trunk.

My heart is nearly pounding out of my chest when I realize this. The only way I can think of to get away from this guy is if I had some sort of weapon.

I move my hands around in the dark trunk, trying to find anything I can use, until my hands hit the metal crowbar José used when he changed my flat tire months ago. It's his, but he left it in my car incase he ever needed to help me again; he doesn't have a car but likes to work on them.

My hands may still be bound together, but I can still hold the bar and hit him hard enough... I think... I hope.

I grip the metal crowbar tightly in my hands, and wait.

And wait.

And wait.

I'm not sure how long we've been driving, or where we're going, or if there will be more men wherever he's taking me, or what he plans to do to me, but my heart rate suddenly increases, as if it could beat any faster, when he stops and turns the car off.

My grip tightens and I'm waiting for when he opens the trunk, ready to attack.

As soon as it opens, I close my eyes tight and swing, coming into contact with his body and hitting his ribs.

I may not have hit him as hard as I would've liked, because of the angle I'm laying, but it's hard enough to hurt him.

He grunts, grabbing onto the crowbar and easily pries it from my hands before I can hit him again.

Taking advantage of his pain and distraction, I struggle to get out of the trunk. My hands are still bound together, but I manage to get out, only to fall onto the ground.

I watch as he throws the crowbar onto the ground and slams the trunk shut.

As he turns to face me, to come after me, I hurriedly scramble to my feet and run.

Oh shit! If he wasn't already, he will definitely be out for my blood now! I hit him! I hit him hard!

I don't get far before he grabs me, tossing me over his shoulder and holding me tight.

"Let me go!" I scream and yell and shout, hitting his back with my fists together and trying to kick him.

He drops me when I manage to hit him in the nuts.

"You wanna go," He questions like I wouldn't want to. "Go!"

I'm shocked that my kidnapper is willing to let me go so easily, but I don't question it.

I get up and run, but soon discover I have no idea where I am or where to go.

Looking around, it's dark and all I see are trees in every direction.

"You'll get lost," He warns me. "And if I have to look for you, to save you from wild animals, I'm going to be pissed."

Turning around to face him, I start to hyperventilate.

He's not wearing a mask, and all the shows I've ever watched, all the stories I've ever read... if the kidnapper shows their face, they plan to kill you.

And then it feels as if I was the one hit with the crowbar. It's dark, but I can see that it's the guy I sold all that serial killer stuff to.

I look down and see that my hands are bound with the cable ties I sold to him. My mouth was probably taped with the duct tape he bought from me. And the rope... I don't see the rope anywhere, what does he plan on using that for?

I don't plan on staying to find out.

The moment he realizes I'm going to run, I see a lust in his eyes, the darkness from when I was helping him with the rope returns. He's turned on by the thought of chasing me.

I take off running in some random direction, hoping to escape somehow.

Trying not to go in a straight line, I turn this way and that way, not really sure which way I'm going or which path leads to freedom.

It wasn't a serial killer kit, it was a kidnapper kit. Or maybe both!

I feel like I'm in a scary movie; I'm running for my life while the killer is walking slowly behind me and will catch me in a matter of seconds, no matter how fast I run.

And then I stop, hearing something move. I know it's not him because he's behind me and I hear the noise in front of me.

I jump, not expecting to hear growling.

From out of nowhere, two glowing eyes pop out from the trees and then an animal comes running straight at me. But, before it can attack me, a sound I've never heard before and can't really explain goes off and the animal, that looks like some sort of dog, falls to the ground.

"Are you happy now?" I hear the man behind me, twigs snapping as he walks closer. "You made me shoot one of my favorite dogs."

Dogs? As in, more than one. This vicious dog is his and he has more of them running loose around here?!

When I turn around, I see that he has a gun now and that it has a silencer on it. I may have heard guns going off before, but never one with a silencer. Why would he need a silencer?

"Are you going to kill me now?" I ask bravely, pointing my chin up, even though he's not pointing the gun at me.

"Not now."

"But you are going to kill me." I state, more than ask.

"We'll see." He has the nerve to smirk.

Oh god, he's going to kill me! Why? What does he want from me?!

With the gun he's holding, I'm sure he can do anything he wants. He didn't seem to have a problem killing his pet, what am I to him but a stranger.

"Don't worry," He says, noticing my stare on his weapon. "I don't like guns, so I don't use them when I do my job."

"You just used it on your dog." I remind him.

"Would you rather I let the dog attack you?"

I don't know, it depends on what he does to me.

"Let's go back, if you're done running around, trying to get lost. It's late and I don't want to have to shoot anymore of my dogs because you think you can get away. You can't."

I look around again, but we're still surrounded by trees and darkness, and there is no possible way to know which direction to go without me getting lost. As much as his taunting annoys me, he's right. I can't find my way out of these woods alone. And if he has more of those vicious attack dogs, it would be better to go with him.

Or would it? He did say he is going to kill me. Well, he didn't confirm it, but he didn't deny it either, all he said was, 'we'll see', whatever that means.

After another 'let's go' from him, like a moth to a flame, he lures me back to my car.

"Please." I beg him as we walk. "Please, just let me go. I won't tell anyone anything."

"Yeah, I should probably tell you, the whole 'let me go, I won't tell' thing doesn't usually work. I took you for a reason."

"I seriously think you have the wrong girl."

"Anastasia Rose Steele, goes by Ana, works at Clayton's hardware, enrolled at WSU..." He lists everything he knows about me, even my appearance, including my exact height and weight. It's quite frightening, knowing this man has been stalking me and I never even knew. "Yeah, I think I have the right girl."

"I don't understand. Why me?"

"Your father owes my boss some money. We're holding you ransom until the debt is paid."

We've finally made it back to my car and I just now notice a cabin.

He unlocks the door, that has many locks including a keypad, holding it open so I can enter first.

I'm hesitant to go inside, because once I'm in there, there may be no way out, but he gives me a little push to guide me in.

"How much does my dad owe your boss?" I ask while looking around the main room.

"Just over one hundred fifty thousand dollars."

"One hundred fifty thousand?! Ray doesn't have that kind of money."

"Ray?" He frowns. "Your stepfather?"

"Yes."

Who else did he think? Maybe he does have the wrong girl? Is there another Anastasia Steele out there with all my info and looks?

"No, this isn't about him, this is about your father. Your biological father, Frank Lambert."

"You must be mistaken," I correct him, "My father died when I was a baby. I was only a day old."

"Nope." He shakes his head. "Lamb is very much alive and owes a substantial amount of money to my boss."

I can't wrap my head around what he's telling me. My mother told me my father died when I was a baby, but this man is a saying he's alive?!

"I don't believe you. He's dead. My mother told me he died when I was a baby."

"Your mother obviously lied to you."

Why would my mother lie to me? She wouldn't. Did she know? Well, I can't very well ask her now, she died last year.

Even if it's true, even if my biological father was alive...

"I- I didn't- I didn't know."

"Doesn't matter." He shrugs, sitting comfortably on the sofa, like we're talking about the weather, while I continue to stand near the locked door.

"What happens now?" I would wrap my arms around myself, but they're still bound with the cable ties.

"He has 2 weeks to pay his debt."

"What if he doesn't pay?"

"He has 2 weeks." He repeats.

"But what happens if he doesn't pay?" I repeat, wanting an answer.

"He has 2 weeks..." He repeats again, trailing off before adding, "or else."

"Or else, what?" I continue pushing.

He has the nerve to grimace before raising his eyebrow, as if to say 'you know what will happen'. And I do. I know exactly what will happen, and now I know what 'we'll see' means.

If he doesn't pay within two weeks, I die. Seriously?! I don't even know him!

"Or else my life clears his debt." I say out loud, filling in the blanks myself, before warning him, "My friends and Ray will know I'm missing, they'll call the police."

"I've already taken care of that." He holds up my phone that I lost this afternoon. "We just need the money and you can go."

"He won't pay." I whisper, defeated.

"Let's hope he does."

I can't stop the tear from falling. I'm going to die.

"Hey, hey." He coos, coming to stand in front of me. "Don't cry."

When he reaches up to brush away my tears with his thumb, I move away from him so he can't touch me anymore.

"I'll tell you what," He says, straightening up. "If he doesn't pay, and I have to carry this out, I'll have mercy on you. I won't let you suffer, a service I don't usually offer."

"Gee, thanks." I roll my eyes at him.

He shows me to a room that will be mine for the deration of my 2 week stay.

The room is red, and I don't know if he chose the color because he likes it, or if it's to help hide and blend the blood spatter on the walks when he does his... job. The windows in the room are high up, I could just barely reach them, and they have bars on them to prevent me from getting out that way.

There is nothing in the room except a shelf with clothes, a bed and a chair, both bolted to the floor.

The bedding is red, and looks like high quality. Under the bed is a cage, going the full width and length of the bed, and just high enough for me to kneel if I'm in there.

In the corner is a giant X with cuffs on each corner. It looks like some sort of torture thing.

It almost, sort of reminds me of a BDSM dungeon, without all the toys and implements.

I wonder if he owns any BDSM toys? If he does, maybe he uses them to do his job. Maybe he whips people for a living.

"Are you a dominant?"

"No." He says off handedly, only to smirk and look at me. "Unless you want me to be."

"Are you going to tie me to that?" I ask, ignoring him and pointing to the cross.

"Only if you're a good girl."

My eyes widen. What does that mean?

"No, Anastasia." He says at my alarm, trying to calm me. "I'm not going to tie you up, not unless I have to. I want you to be comfortable while you're here with me. Well, as comfortable as you can be. You have nothing to worry about."

"Uh-" I raise my hands that are still tied together.

"Are you going to be good?"

"Really?" Is all I say.

He sighs and then pulls out a pair of scissors he had in his back pocket to release me.

"So, what is this, like, the red room of pain, or something?" I ask, rubbing my wrists as I look around the red room.

"Red room of pain?" He laughs like I made a funny joke.

"Don't tell me this room is more about pleasure, because I won't believe you."

He doesn't respond, but continues to smile as he leaves me alone. I'm surprised he didn't lock the door.

As I look around the room, I notice an open doorway. Inside is a bathroom; toilet, sink and stand-up shower.

And the creepiness continues when I see my brand of shampoo and other toiletries.

Thinking the clothes are going to be exactly my size, I check.

How he knows my clothing size, the products I like and use... I'm not so sure I want to know the answer. The answer may frighten me even more than my imagination.

When I look at the clothes he has set on the shelf, a chill runs down my spine. They're mine, like really mine. They are my clothes.

"How did he get these?" I whisper in the dark.

This guy looks nothing like a killer, or a kidnapper, nothing like a criminal at all. He's good looking. But isn't it always the ones that blend in, the neighbors who turn out to be serial killers and their friends and neighbors, even their family didn't know. I wonder if this guy's family knows he does this.

..

It's late, but I can't sleep. How could I?

Since I'm not bound to anything, or locked inside that cage- able to move about freely, I wait until I think he's sleeping before I leave the red room.

Opening my door enough to peek out, I don't see him so I leave my room.

There are three doors in the main room; the main door, my room door, and a door that I assume is his room.

I want to check, to make sure he's sleeping, but when I go to open his door, it's locked.

I don't know if he's sleeping or not, but I don't care, I'm not waiting any longer. I have to get out of here.

He gave me the opportunity to leave before, and I stupidly chose to come back here with him, because I saw no way out. But I have to leave, knowing that he will eventually kill me. I don't know if I believe him about my father, but if he is telling the truth, I highly doubt Frank will pay to get me back; he doesn't even know me.

I've already tried to fight, now it's time for flight. I may get lost, and I'll deal with the dogs, or wild animals, or whatever else is out there when the time comes.

I look around for a way out. The door is useless, thanks to the locks, so I look at the windows, but they are all too high up and all have bars.

There is literally no way out, and I'm sure previous victims have tried to escape too, but I have to try something, anything, and quietly. I don't want to wake him, if he is sleeping.

Looking around, I see no hope of escaping, until I look up. There, above the small two-seater table, is a skylight. It has a latch, so it can be opened, but not very much.

I'm sure I can fit through it.

I climb up on top of the table and stand on my tippy toes as I unlock the skylight window.

I jump up, grab onto the window ledge, and, with the help of Wanda- giving me my daily upper arm workout, I pull myself up and slip out onto the roof.

Standing on the roof, though it's dark, I look around and see nothing but trees for miles and miles. I don't see anything helpful. There are no roads, no trails, no- Wait. Is that a building? A house? Another cabin? If someone is there, maybe they can help me.

It's not that far to the ground, so I hold the edge of the roof, dangle down until I'm stretched out and then drop the few feet down.

I land on my feet but slip and fall onto my butt, my hand coming into contact with something cold and hard.

Realizing it's the crowbar I used earlier, I pick it up and run to my car.

When the door doesn't open, I look inside my car windows with the intent of breaking one if my bag is still in the car, because then my phone will be in there and I can call the police. But, as my luck would have it, my bag isn't there.

So instead, I take off running in the direction of the building I saw.

While I run, I try to keep quiet, remembering his guard dogs are roaming free, and that he may or may not be sleeping.

When I finally reach the building, I bang and bang on the door, no longer carrying how loud I am.

"Help! Help!" I yell as I pound on the door. "Somebody, please, help me!"

I knock and knock, but nobody answers.

I'm not sure if anyone is even in there, but I need to get inside, I can hear something behind me. It could just be my imagination, but I'm not staying out here to find out.

With the help of the crowbar, I pry open the door and walk inside.

As soon as I'm in, it's like I've entered Dexter's kill room. There are plastic sheets hanging everywhere. It reminds me of when I suggested them at Clayton's, and when I made the stupid joke of him being the complete serial killer. Now I know why he rushed out of the store, because he thought I knew what he was. But it looks like he really does use plastic sheets in a non-serial-killer type way.

Walking further into the room, I find a light switch and turn it on.

Now that I can see, it looks like I'm in some type of garage or something. A boathouse, maybe?

I can see through the plastic sheets, but not clearly, so I venture further when I see something behind them.

Pulling back to sheets, I see a boat with The Grace written on the side. It's beautiful, and obviously doesn't belong to him. So someone does come here and could help me.

Maybe I can stay in here while I wait for them to return and he wont be able to find me.

Absentmindedly, I reach up to trace the name of the boat, but, before I can touch the words, I'm grabbed from behind. I know it's him because I know his scent; he smells so good.

Shit, I've been caught and I dropped the damn crowbar!

He lifts me over his shoulder and walks out.

There's nothing I can do. If I was somehow able to fight him off and run, I wouldn't get very far, he always seems to find me. And whoever owns this boathouse doesn't live in it, it's just a garage for the boat, so they likely wont come around any time soon.

Defeated, I let him carry me back to the cabin in silence and into the red room.

"If you try to run away again, I'll tie you to this fucking bed for the full 2 weeks." He growls as he tosses me onto the bed. "I was trying to be nice, by not tying you up, but obviously I've underestimated you."

He reaches under the bed and pulls out a leather cuff attached to a chain and restrains my ankle to the cage.

I'm too scared to move as I lay on the mattress and watch him. I've never seen him this angry, not when I hit him with the crowbar, not even when I managed to kick his balls.

After I'm secure, he leaves the red room without another word to me, slamming the door shut.

Once I'm alone, again, I check out my new binding.

It's long enough so I'm able to move about the room, even able to reach my bathroom, possibly even part of the main room. But still, I'm restricted and can't get it off.

I guess I wont be escaping any time soon.

..

The second day I stayed in my room the whole time, but he did came in to bring me food and water. I didn't eat or drink it, not knowing what he did to it.

He also said we would be expecting a visitor today. His boss, Jack was expected to show up.

Christian, the guy who kidnapped me, said Jack wouldn't touch me, or rather, he wouldn't 'let' Jack touch me. Whatever that meant. They just needed a photo of me to send to Frank Lambert, to prove they had me.

This worried me because Frank could tell them he doesn't give a shit about me and would be perfectly fine if I paid his debt with my life. After all, he has been alive this whole time and I didn't know. Then I wouldn't have the full 2 weeks.

Jack never showed up, though, because Christian said he had a flight to catch and the time was changed on the flight or something. He didn't tell me this, I just over heard his phone conversation. Christian ended up tying me to the chair himself, using the rope he bought from me, covering my mouth with the duct tape, and taking the photo himself, sending it to his boss.

I don't know why they are using their real names... or maybe they aren't their real names... or maybe they are and they just don't care because they know I wont be around much longer.

I can't tell anyone anything if I'm dead.

By the next day, I was completely and utterly scared. I knew they would send the picture of me to Frank soon, if they haven't already, so I tried to run away again.

Of course, obviously, that didn't go well, just as my previous attempts haven't, and I have now been officially grounded.

..

A week later and I've become bored and tired of waiting.

I'm still tied up at night, but I'm free to roam about the cabin during the day, so long as I'm a 'good girl'.

I tried ignoring him, staying in my room day and night, but with nothing to do in this stupid cabin, I started venturing out of my room.

We're in the main room, sitting at the table for two while we eat our lunch.

It's the first time I've eaten with him, I usually eat in my room. At first I wasn't going to eat anything he gave me, but after a few days of not eating, I got hungry.

I wanted to cook my own food, but we compromised that I could watch him make my meals. He's not the best cook in the world, but I'm not allowed near the stove or the food. He's probably afraid I'll burn the place down on purpose, or poison his food, as if I could or as if there were some sort of poison I could use. I guess I could boil a pot of water, or oil, saying it's for food, and then throw it on him, fucking up his beautiful face. But I don't want to know what will happen if that plan goes wrong.

I decide, while we're eating, to ask him some questions.

"So... you say my dad, my biological father, is still alive."

"That's right." He continues eating, not looking up or anything.

"Do you... Do you have a photo of him?"

He thinks this through for a second, then pulls out his phone and pushes a few buttons and hands it to me.

I'm completely surprised; I could call the police, though he could overpower me in a matter of seconds, and it's likely he could have some sort of thing that disables calls, only turning on when he puts in some passcode or something, but still... to give me his phone?

Deciding if I'm ever going to get out of here alive, I need to show him some sort of... trust. Which means I have to stop trying to escape.

Taking the phone, I look at the screen. And while the man in the photo does show some similarities to the photos my mother has shown me, he looks older and... nasty. He's thin, bone thin, and his hair looks greasy like he hasn't washed it in weeks. His clothes look okay, so I know he's not homeless, but he looks...

"He's... repulsive." I shudder.

"You obviously take after your mother."

I look up when I hear him speak. I didn't realize I had said that out loud.

"What?"

"You look nothing like your father." He elaborates. "Except... maybe your eyes."

I look away, not wanting him to see my eyes that he has suddenly become so fascinated with.

Everyone has commented on my eyes because they are so blue, but I've always felt they should be brown to match my hair. I once wore colored contacts in high school, but stopped when my mother made me an optometrist appointment and the eye doctor said they could do harm to my vision if they weren't approved by an optometrist. Instead of getting colored contacts through him, because I thought he was bullshitting me just to make money, I stopped wearing brown colored contacts.

A friend in mine, in high school, said I wore them to blend in, that I like to go unnoticed.

"No, not even your eyes." I hear him say, bringing me from my thoughts. "Yours are more... blue, more innocent and sweet. You're much too beautiful to be his kid, but the DNA doesn't lie."

Did he just call me beautiful?

"Are you... Are you hitting on me?"

"I am a hit-man." He smirks at his joke.

"Oh, funny." I say sarcastically. "What about you?"

"What about me?"

"Tell me about your family."

"What about my family?" He nearly growls, obviously not wanting to talk about it.

Does he not want to tell me about his family because then I'll know about them, more about him? Well, he knows more about me than I do myself, so he's just going to have to deal with it.

I decide to go with a question that I don't think will be so bad. Maybe it will open him up more.

"Do you have any family members that you thought were dead but aren't?"

He presses his lips into a tight line, squirming in his seat a little, obviously not wanting to tell me about him.

"Oh, come on," I try to encourage him to talk. "I'm gonna be dead in like, a week or so, who am I going to tell."

"You don't know that."

"I do. You know it, too. Frank isn't going to pay anything to get me back."

We're quiet for a while, until he starts talking.

"My mother... Ella, she was into drugs- kept running away and getting into trouble. She got pregnant with me when she was 15. My father, a man named Lincoln, didn't want her anymore because a baby, namely me- I would ruin his marriage, so he ended things with my mother. With no where to go, she came back home to her parents, to have me, only to run around just as much after I was born because her parents were there to raise me.

"My grandparents finally had enough so they took her to court and got custody of me. My grandfather was an attorney so it was easy enough to do. My grandmother said that Ella would come see me on my birthdays, Christmas and other holidays, but I don't remember. She died when I was 4 of a drug overdose, so my grandmother was the only mother I knew."

"What are your grandparents' names?"

"Grace and Carrick."

Grace? As in, The Grace? That big beautiful boat does belong to him! He must've named it after his grandmother. That has to mean something, doesn't? Maybe that's why he got so mad when he found me in that garage with his boat, why he grabbed me when I was about to touch it. It's important to him, it means something to him.

"Where are they?"

"When I was 13 my grandparents died."

"Oh. I'm so sorry."

He sighs, running his fingers through his hand and continues talking about them.

"My grandfather died of natural causes, but my grandmother... they couldn't find a reason. I overheard people saying she died of a broken heart-" His tone suddenly changes to anger, "But she had me. I loved her and I needed her, I was just a fucking child and I had nobody but her."

He takes a deep breath, presumably to calm down, but I'm not sure how much it helped, he's still upset.

"After their funeral, I had no other family to stay with. They had friends, so many fucking friends, but no one would take me in, so I was sent to a home. That's where I met my boss, Jack."

"You met him when you were 13?" That's so young. Has he been doing this bad stuff since then?

"Yeah. He was 17 and was scheduled to be removed from the group home on his 18th birthday; five months after I moved in. We were always close, since day one. When I turned 14 I started doing odd jobs for him here and there. And when I was 15, when I was moved to another group home... Jack was there for me when the group home leader-" He stops, probably sparing me the details. "Elena, she was my first."

I have no idea if he means sex, or kill, but I stay quiet while he continues his story.

Maybe he killed her because she had sex with him? Either way, the smile he gave off at the memory was no indication of which.

"When I turned 18, he was going to let me stay with him, because I had no place to go, but my grandparents' lawyer came through to tell me that I inherited everything they had. I'm a billionaire, I own so many houses... I have a house in Bellevue near the Sound, Aspen near the mountains, Montana near a lake, and New York near Central Park. I don't have to work for the rest of my life, if I don't want to.

"Jack doesn't know, I never told him. I shouldn't even be telling you this, I don't know why I am."

"I'll take it to my grave." I try to joke the promise but it comes out all wrong, like an I'll timed joke.

"Okay," I clear my throat. "So, then why do you do this? Why do you... kill people? You obviously don't need the money."

"Jack is the only one who has ever been there for me. He never left me, not even when he was removed from the home- he still took care of me, protected me, taught me how to fight. I owe him my life, he saved me. If he needs me to do these jobs, I'll do them."

"Okay, so your birthmother wasn't there for you, I'll give you that, but your grandparents were."

"They left me." He growls. "I was sent to a home for five fucking years because they left me."

"They didn't leave you, they died. And they sound like good people."

"They were." He hangs his head in shame.

"Would they really be happy to know this is how your life turned out? That you are planning to kill an innocent girl, an innocent girl who didn't even know her father was alive, and has nothing to do with him."

He suddenly stands, throwing his plate and food in the trash.

"That's enough share and tell for today." I says, before locking himself in his room.

I don't know when it happened, but something changed. Even though he is basically dismissing me, he's no longer the monster who kidnapped me... well, he is, but he seems different somehow... He's lost. Everyone he has ever loved has left him, either intentionally or not, except this Jack guy. He's finding loyalty in the wrong person. I truly believe that Christian could be a good person, if it wasn't for Jack's influence.

...

I'm still waiting, I only have a few days left of my 2 weeks, but now Christian and I are talking more and more.

I try to avoid talking to him about anything personal, because that's when he shuts down. I'm hoping if he gets to know me well enough, he wont go through with this. I know it's wishful thinking, but it's all I have left.

But I find, the more we talk, the more we get to know each other, the more I can see it. I think he likes me. Which means he truly doesn't want to do this, not to me.

Another positive thing, I earned his trust enough to be off my leash, so to speak, so I'm no longer chained up at night.

His heart is showing. Or maybe it's just Stockholm Syndrome at its best.

"I'm so bored." I groan, plopping down on the small loveseat in the main room.

"Sorry." He apologizes as he sits next to me. "There's not much to do around here."

"I don't think I'm supposed to be having fun while held against my will." I remind him. "It's not a vacation."

"If you could do something, what would it be?"

"Go outside."

He gives me a look, like that's not going to happen.

"I wouldn't run," I tell him. "I'm just getting a little... I don't know, cabin fever?"

There is seriously nothing to do. I know it sounds stupid, that I'm complaining of boredom while I'm kidnapped, but we're literally just sitting around every day and it's been so long since I've been outside; since that first night. I've been here for 11 days, only 3 left before I die, I would like to have some sort of ... I don't know, fun.

"Come on." Christian pulls me up from the loveseat, and from my thoughts.

"Where are we going?" I ask when he unlocks the main door and opens it.

"It's a surprise." He grabs a hoodie near the door and tosses it to me, telling me to put it on because where we're going it can get chilly.

The hoodie is obviously his and way too big, but I like it... it smells like him.

We walk out together and he leads us towards the back of the cabin.

I'm distracted, trying to smell the hoodie while we walk, that I just notice we're going in the direction of Dexter's kill room.

"Are you going to do it now?" I squeak.

"No." He laughs.

"There's no where to go out here, where are we going?"

"I told you, it's a surprise."

"Are we going to hike, or something? Because I'm not a outdoors type. I'll probably get hurt or fall and you'll have to do it then to put me out of my misery."

"We're not hiking."

"What about your dogs that you have running around?"

He suddenly stops and looks around, as if he heard something. I follow suit, only I'm holding onto his bicep, ignoring how strong and hard it feels. Okay, I'm not ignoring it, and I may even squeeze it a bit tighter than I should. But the thought of one of his vicious dogs near us, has me not enjoying it quite as much.

I hope he brought his gun.

Now that's a weird thought. I hope my kidnapper brought his gun?

"Your dogs?" I ask of the noise he heard.

"Maybe."

I'm quiet now as we walk, but it's not long before I feel Christian shaking from silent laughter.

"Did you say that to get me to shut up?"

"Maybe."

I playfully hit him and we both laugh.

"I don't have any dogs." He tells me.

"But I thought-"

"That wasn't a dog."

"What was it?"

"A coyote."

"You shouldn't have shot it."

"Would you rather I let it attack you?"

"No, but now he'll never catch that bird."

"What bird?"

"You've never seen that cartoon as a kid?"

"What cartoon?"

"Oh, my gosh, when we get back, we're gonna have to watch it."

"Deal." He smiles.

"Well, maybe we can watch something else, I don't really want to watch the cartoon."

"Too late, you can't back out now."

"What are we doing here?" I ask when we're at the boathouse I found on my first night here.

"We're going to take the boat out."

"Really?" I smile, getting excited. "I've never been on a boat this big before."

Christian gets everything ready to go, even strapping me into a safety vest, much to my complaint that I didn't need one.

Soon, we are out on the water.

He told me he hasn't taken this boat out in years, but it's been well looked after. He shows me how to put up the sails and I make a joke at him learning his knot tying skills from sailing.

There are a few boats here and there around us, but he doesn't seem to worry about them, paying more attention to me and the boat. And I don't flag them down or try to get their attention either, I don't know why.

"The houses look so beautiful." I tell him when we're in an area where a few houses, far apart from each other on gorgeous properties, are in our view.

We've been out here on the boat for a couple hours, just enjoying the weather and the view.

"Christian, Christian!" I grab his arm, excited for some stupid reason. "Look at that one!"

I point to the biggest, most beautiful house I've seen today.

He tenses beside me, but I think nothing of it.

"I bet the view from that house is amazing."

"It is." He says like he knows personally. "That's my grandparents' house. I grew up there... until I was 13."

"We're near Seattle?" I squeak, remembering where he said all his houses were. Bellevue being the only one close by.

He nods, confirming my thoughts.

"I was supposed to move to Seattle the weekend you took me." I tell him. "Kate must be so worried about me. And my dad..."

"I know." He sounds regretful.

The mood has shifted, and Christian's idea to lighten it back up is to let me steer the boat home. I mean, back to the boathouse.

"Are you sure about this?" I ask as I hesitantly hold the big wheel thingy.

"You'll do fine," He assures me. "I'm right here."

And he is. He's standing right behind me, with his hands on mine. It feels almost as if we're on a date, or out as a couple, but we're not. I'm sure that's what the people who are near us think; that we're together.

A shiver runs down my spine when he moves my hair away from my neck and bringing it to the side. It's a shiver, yes... but not one of fear this time.

My nipples harden and I feel tingling between my thighs, a feeling I've never in my life felt before. I don't even know why I am now.

It feels so nice to have him behind me that I lean against him and smile, my first real smile since he took me.

He runs his nose along my jaw and against the back of my ear.

"You're so beautiful, Anastasia." He whispers, and it's getting harder and harder to concentrate on anything but the feeling of him behind me and the wetness between my thighs.

I want to lean against him, I want to turn around and kiss him.

What is happening to me? What is he doing to me?

I clear my throat and move away from him, though when I do my body feels the loss of contact... and misses it.

We make it back to the boathouse and then back to the cabin without further talking... or touching.

...

Tomorrow is D day.

It wouldn't be so bad if it was Ray who owed the money and not some stranger. Because that's all Frank is to me, a stranger. He may be my biological father, but I don't know him, and he obviously doesn't care about me if I'm still here because he hasn't paid. Ray would do anything to get me back, anything. He is my father, not Frank. And I would do anything to help Ray.

I've tried to distract myself from the weird feelings Christian is bringing out of me, by making some sort of bucket list. But everything on my list can't be done... Well, there is one thing that can.

I started thinking about everything I did in my life. With D day tomorrow, I will never get to experience my dream job, but I did get the college experience... well, not the college experience most have. Sure, Kate and I drank underage and went to parties, but I was never really wild. And while there are some things I would like to have done differently, and some mistakes I've made along the way, there is one thing I haven't done... that I'd like to do before I die.

The only problem is, the only one to help me with my dilemma is the man who took me.

I've tried staying away from him, but there is something about him and I'm finding it impossible to stay away. I'm Icarus flying to close to the sun, and he is the sun that I should stay away from. But I can't stay away, I've tried, and I can't. And to be honest, I don't want to.

I'm not saving myself or anything, but I would like to give my V-card to someone who can make me feel... something, like Christian has since the first time we met at Clayton's. I've yet to find the guy who makes me feel these things that Christian has. And it's weird that this man who had kidnapped me, taken me against my will and is holding me hostage, is the only man who has ever given me those fuzzy feelings I've wanted.

I would masturbate, but I've never done that before so it's likely I'll just get frustrated, so I might as well go all out.

It's a win-win for me, because I don't want to die a virgin, and he's the only one who has made me feel this way. I'm sure if things happened differently, if he didn't kidnap me, I would've given myself to him eventually.

And that is what has me asking Christian for help.

After jumping off the bed, I open the red room door, leaning against it as I watch Christian play with his phone in the main room.

Is it wrong to I want him, my kidnapper? That I feel this... strange feeling I've never felt or experienced before him, only with him. I don't care if it is wrong, it feels so... good.

"Christian," I gain his attention, blushing before I can get out my question. "Can I ask a favor?"

"No." He jokes. And after staying with him for 2 weeks, I know he is.

"Please?" I pout, giving him my best puppy dog eyes.

"You haven't been kidnapped before, have you?"

"I can't say that I have." I answer sarcastically. Though I seriously doubt any kidnapper is like him. He's too sweet and kind.

"Kidnappers don't usually grant favors." He lets me know.

"But, I'm sure you'll want this, too." I reason.

He raises a curious brow, now interested in what I'm wanting.

"Have-sex-with-me." I blurt out like it's one word, but I know he heard me if his wide eyed, shocked expression is anything to go by.

"I don't make love, Anastasia," He warns me. "I fuck. Hard."

"Okay, well, then... let's do..." I swallow hard, gulping before I say, "that."

"Why do you want me to fuck you?" He eyes me suspiciously.

"You and I both know what is going to happen when time runs out."

"What does that have to do with fucking? What, you want one last orgasm?"

"I've never- " I whisper, blushing a bright crimson red. "I haven't..."

"You're a virgin?" He gasps, surprised.

I can't look at him when I nod my head, keeping my eyes on the floor, my feet, my fingers that are twisting together, anything but him.

"For fuck's sake, how?!"

I look up, not knowing what he means.

"I mean, fuck, you're beautiful. What about your boyfriend?"

"I don't have a boyfriend," I correct him. "I've never had a boyfriend."

"That guy, the Clayton kid, he's not your boyfriend?"

"No. He's just my friend."

"Yeah, well, maybe someone should teach him some manners. It took every once of control I had not to approach you when he tried to kiss you. I would've beat the shit out of him and took you then and there if he continued. I nearly gave my location away that night, I saw nothing but red. He wants into your panties, that's for sure. Not to mention all your other suitors I've seen flirt with you. So I don't understand how you've avoided sex for so long."

"I'm not a 50 year old virgin, Christian." I snap, not really sure why I'm getting upset. "I'm not that old. But fine, if you don't want to do me, then fine!"

I storm back into the red room, but before I can slam the door, there he is, blocking the threshold so I can't.

What more could he want, he already turned me down after I basically offered myself to him, like some sort of virgin sacrifice.

"I didn't say I didn't want to fuck you." He says in a rich, carmel fudge brownie, husky voice. "Trust me, I've wanted you since..." He stops speaking and shakes his head. "Are you sure this is what you want?"

I nod, unable to say anything more.

"Okay." He says, removing his shirt. "Sit back on the bed."

It takes me a moment, because I'm too busy staring at and admiring his muscles; abs, that sexy V, his happy trail. But eventually I do sit on the bed, almost in a trance, and watch as his hands move towards his jeans and unbuttons them.

"Can I..." I gulp, trying to be brave as I ask. "Can I see... it... first."

I've never seen one in person before. I've seen them in photos or the porn Kate made me watch our freshmen year when we got drunk, but never in person.

"Sure." Christian confidently puts his thumbs inside his boxers, ready to pull them down without a care.

He pulls his boxer briefs away from him body and down, revealing a hardening cock. It's... beautiful.

"Can I... can I touch it?"

I felt up Bradly Conner when I was 16 while we were making out, but I didn't go inside his jeans. I was actually kind of glad my dad came home and interrupted us, his kisses were all slobbery, and he used way too much tongue.

Christian nods and his cock twitches in response.

Hesitantly, I reach forward and wrap my hand around his cock.

Exploring him, I start to rub and stroke his length, finding that it's hardening yet soft somehow and so smooth.

As I continue to move my hand, he starts to breath heavier and heavier, nearly panting.

"S-stop." He pants. "We're going to make a mess."

"I wont make a mess." I promise, not really sure what he means.

He's growing harder and harder, and I kind of want to put him in my mouth.

I may be a virgin, and very inexperienced, but I know the liquid coming out of the head is his precum.

"I wonder what it tastes like." I whisper to myself.

"Ah, fuck!" He hisses, grabbing my hand to stop my movements. "Enough."

"Why'd you stop me?" I pout.

"Because you were going to make me cum and I want to cum inside of you."

I was going to make him cum just from rubbing him with my hand?! I know guys jack off, or whatever, but I didn't think I was doing it all that great, enough to make him cum!

"Fuck."

"What?" I ask when he pulls his boxer briefs back up, attempting to hide this erection, though I can still see clearly how hard he is from the bulge. "What's wrong?"

"I don't have any condoms. We're not protected, I'm clean but- Unless... Unless you're on birth control." He asks hopeful.

"I'm not." I regret to tell him. "But it doesn't matter, really, does it?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well, I wont be around much longer, so it doesn't matter if we use protection or not."

He's deep in thought for a minute until he seems to come to a decision.

"We have two options; I can run to the store now and grab a box of condoms, or I can go after and grab the morning after pill. Whatever you want."

"No, it's fine. Don't worry about it."

We're now in an awkward silence, with him still standing in front of me in his boxer briefs and me sitting on the bed in front of him with my feet barely touching the floor.

"Are you going to make love to me now?" I tease him, batting my eyelashes. I probably look like I have something in my eye.

"I told you," He inches forward, putting one of his knees on the bed making me lay back until he is right on top of me. "I don't make love. I fuck."

"Hard," I finish for him. "I remember."

In the blink of an eye, he has my shirt off, leaving me in my bra. His hand trails down my side, down my ribs, to the front of my pants.

The tingling and wetness increases when his fingers play with the hem of my panties.

"Your turn." He whispers before his hand disappears inside my pants.

I gasp when he comes in contact with my sex. This is really happening.

"Mmm." He moans. "You're already so fucking wet."

I blush, hot, wet, and tingling as his finger easily slides inside of me and I feel it curl, brushing against my front wall.

He starts kissing and sucking on my neck, running his nose along my jaw before nibbling on my ear.

"I'm going to make you cum so hard."

Another gasp escapes me at his words and when he adds another finger.

He starts moving his fingers harder and faster, rubbing his palm against my clit.

I'm moaning like a whore in heat, being wound up so tight I feel I may explode.

My insides are tightening. I bring my feet up and spread my thighs wider, lifting my hips to meet his fingers.

"That's it." He encourages. "Now, cum."

"Oh! Oh! Oh!"

I experience the most intense pleasure I've ever had in a matter of seconds, minutes, hours... it feels like it goes on and on, at the same time too short.

I'm still coming down from my high when he gets off of me, hooks his fingers in the waistband of my yoga pants and pulls them down and off along with my panties.

I'm now laying on the bed, with my feet still on the floor, wearing only my bra.

"Take it off." He nods to my bra. "I want to see you."

He, once again, releases his cock from his boxer briefs, this time taking them completely off. His cock looks even bigger than before when I was playing with it.

How is that going to fit inside of me? He's so... big.

Doing as he asked, I remove my bra and throw it somewhere on the floor.

I'm about to move further onto the bed, but he grabs me around my thighs and roughly pulls me towards the edge of the bed to meet him, while he continues to stand.

"Open." He helps me lift my feet so they are resting on the bed, and then he spreads my thighs wide.

As soon as I'm open to him, he stares at my sex, making me blush.

I'm so wet, I watch as the head of his cock slips inside before we're ready and I gasp at the feeling, clutching the sheets by my head.

"I'll go slow at first," He says, "Just until you're use to it."

I nod my head, thankful.

"Are you sure?" He asks again, holding himself at my entrance. "Last chance to back out, because once I start, I'm not going to stop. There are no safewords here, Anastasia."

"I-I'm sure. I-I want this."

With one quick, hard thrust, he's inside of me.

I cry out, moving my hands from the sheets and pushing them against his stomach, trying to make him get out of me. It hurts. My sex may be wet, but it's still so uncomfortably tight, and it burns like he just ripped through me. He somehow feels bigger than he looked, and I'm thankful that he's not moving, letting me adjust.

Looking down, I can no longer see his cock; it's buried deep inside of me. We're connected by our most intimate parts.

He seems to be restraining himself, he looks to be in just as much pain as I am, but I know he's not. It feels good to him, he tells me so.

His hands are holding my hips so tight, I know there will be 10 little bruises where his fingers are. He's trying so hard not to move, I can tell. His jaw his clenched tight, and he tells me the same of my sex.

"Relax," He whispers in a strained voice. "The pain wont last, and will go away quicker if you relax."

I don't believe him, because it hurts so badly. But, Kate has told me all about her first sexual experience when she lost her virginity on prom night, so I know he's right.

I try to focus on breathing, but it's hard when he tells me he has to move and pulls out, only to push back in.

True to his word, he's gentle, going slow until I'm use to the intrusion.

With each thrust, the pain subsides and is replaced by the now familiar pleasure that I only received and experienced, just moments before, from his fingers.

Soon his thrusts turn faster, harder, deeper, and the more he moves, the more pleasurable it is. It's almost overwhelming.

His grunts, for some reason, make me wetter, and that makes him moan. This feels so, so good. It's no wonder people ever get out of bed. I want more, I need more, so I lift my hips to meet him thrust for thrust.

He grabs my hips, lifting me slightly, and the new angle has him hitting me just right. Like I have some sort of special spot inside of me; my G-spot.

"You like that, don't you. You like- aw fuck, you like me fucking you hard like this, don't you, you little virgin."

"Oh! Ah!" I can't come up with a coherent response, it feels too good and I'll I can do is moan.

"Is this what you- fuck, so tight- what you want? Is this what you were waiting for?" He continues his hard movements, adding a swivel of his hips, grinding into me. "Someone to fuck you like this?"

"Oh, yes!" I cry out. "Yes!"

"Mmmm. You wanna cum again, baby?"

"YES!" PLEASE!

He removes one of his hands from my hips and starts playing with my clit, and soon I'm on the edge again.

My back arches, my toes curl, my mouth pops open with a moan. I throw my head back as my eyes roll from the pleasure, so much more than before.

"Christian!" I don't even realize that I've called out his name as my sex continues to contract.

As I come down from my high, I feel him pull out of me.

"Turn over." He flips me so I'm laying on my stomach but my feet are still on the floor and he's still standing behind me.

Once we're in position, he's back inside of me, easier than before with how wet I am.

"You're so juicy." He moans.

This new position, with me laying on my stomach and him behind me, is so much deeper than before.

He holds me open with his hand just under one of my knees, lifting it up high and resting it on the bed, so I'm spread wide for him.

"We're going to go slow this time." He gently eases inside of me. I can feel every inch of him until he is buried deep.

Just as slowly, he pulls out. I groan when he enters me again, moving his hips so I can feel him stretching me.

He repeats his movements, again and again. I want more but can't move in this position.

"You feel so good."

My insides instantly quiver when he moans, groans, and grunts.

"Oh, no, baby." He pulls out. "Not yet."

He waits for me to calm down before he slides back inside of me and starts his slow torturous pace again.

With not being able to move my body, I begin to squeeze my sex with each deep thrust. It drives him crazy enough to cause his movements to speed up.

He moves his other hand from my hip and wraps it around my throat, hitting me hard from behind.

I'm surprised when I like his hand there, and I find myself doing more and more to get him to hold me down. I'm going to have bruises all over my body; my neck, my wrists, my hips, my ass, everywhere he holds me down, but I don't care, I'm loving it.

"I want you sore," He says, placing his knee behind mine on the bed and grinding his hips into mine. "Every time you move, you're going to be reminded of me, of where I've been. Only me."

He continues to pound into me, swiveling his hips once he's deep inside, keeping the pace fast this time.

I know I'm going to be sore afterwards, very sore, but right now all I want is that pleasure I felt before. I want to cum again. And again. And again.

Maybe we can play with those cable ties, tape and rope he bought from me and use them how I originally fantasized he would.

Okay, maybe not the tape, but the other items for sure.

I cum like this once more, with the help of his fingers playing with my clit, before he pulls out again to change our position.

He lifts me easily and tosses me further on the bed, crawling up to join me.

I'm surprised when he lets me be on top.

It's so weird, this power high, yet feels so good. I'm in control, able to move as fast and hard as I want. And, in this position, I'm able to cum twice more.

"You're so fucking beautiful when you cum." He compliments. "I want you to cum again, I want to see you."

His hands roam my body, before landing on my hips and helping me move.

I lean down and kiss his mouth, pulling back to judge if that was okay. It seems to be because he wraps one of his hands in my hair and brings my mouth back to his, sweeping his tongue across my lips until I part them and let him in. The kiss soon turns passionate, frenzied, and we're all mouth, hands, teeth clashing.

"I want to keep you." I hear him whisper against my lips. "Never let you go."

"Never let me go." I kiss him hard.

"Christian." I try to warn him that I'm close.

"Cum." He senses my release. "Cum with me, baby, milk my cock."

And I do.

My final orgasm hits me like a wrecking ball. I cum so hard, the hardest yet, my sex squeezing and milking him of all he has. I feel rippling and warmth as he fills me, and it feels so good.

He pumps twice more before I collapse on top of him. We're both panting and out of breath.

Wow. THAT is what everyone is talking about?

"I want..." I pant. "to do.. that... again."

"Give me a little time." He laughs, rolling us over so he's on top and then he pulls his now softening dick out of me. As he does, I feel warm liquid leaking out of me; his semen.

"Do you still want to know what I taste like?" He asks, hovering above me before leaning down to kiss my neck. I move my shoulder up to block him, only because his stubble is scratchy.

"Because I want to taste you." He continues.

My body tenses at the thought before I finally nod my head, giving him permission.

I feel him grin against my neck, like I just told him he could have his cake and eat it too.

As he makes his way to my sex, kissing his way down my body and looking up at me with that sexy smirk, I can't help but think he looks so handsome with that smile. And the feeling of his stubble mixed with his openmouthed kisses are a heady mix. I could agree to just about anything in this moment, and he knows it.

His words echo in my mine; I want to keep you. Never let you go.

"Oh, god!" I call out, fisting his hair when his tongue makes contact with my still sensitive clit.

"You taste so fucking good mixed with me." He licks up my slit before sucking on my clit. "So fucking delicious."

..

I'm exhausted. After my oral training, we went another round and included a little bondage this time. It was a lot of fun. We're now cuddled up together on the bed, snuggling, still enjoying our after sex bliss... Well, I'm enjoying it, I'm not sure if he is. I mean, I'm sure he did enjoy it, but I'm sure he has done this with all his female captures. And something tells me he's not use to cuddling.

"This doesn't change anything." He says as we lay in each other arms, his hand running up and down my back.

"I know." I try to keep the sadness from my tone. But I knew it would change anything, I didn't do it to change his mind. "I also know you don't really want to do this, you don't want to kill me."

He sighs, continuing to play with my hair, not saying anything, but it's all I need to hear to know that I'm right.

"You can't do it." I tell him.

"You don't know anything, Anastasia, I've done this many, many times before."

"I know your heart wont let you."

He gets out of bed, putting his pants back on, not bothering with his underwear. I know that means he doesn't want to talk about this, because he doesn't want to admit it, that he doesn't want to do this. It's what he does whenever we talk about something he doesn't like, he leaves.

"You know it, too, don't you. You know you can't, that's why you're upset." I sit up on my elbow and hold the sheets to my naked body. "You want to let me go."

"Is that what this was about?" He glares at me. "You thought you could fuck me, give yourself to me, and I would let you go?"

"No, but-"

"You don't think others have tried that?"

"I don't kn-"

"Well, they have, and I haven't done anything with anyone, except you."

"Christian-"

"I don't have a heart, Anastasia. The sooner you realize that, the better off you'll be when the time comes." He says, leaving me alone in my room.

..

It's D day. I've been here for 2 weeks, only hours until my death. Frank still hasn't paid his debt, and I debt he will within the hour. I guess he never said anything about the photo they sent him, and I already knew he wouldn't pay anything for me to be released; daughter or not. I mean nothing to him.

Christian and I have been silent all day, and at the moment, we're both sitting on the small loveseat, waiting for his boss to make the call.

"You can do it now." I whisper to Christian. "Just get it over with."

He doesn't say anything, he just gets up and leaves.

I jump when the door closes, not because of the noise, but because I've been on pins and needles all day. Either I would be released, which I highly doubted I would walk out of this cabin alive since day one, or I would be... murdered.

I hear another door and then the start of a car.

And now I'm alone.

Christian must be flustered too, because he left the door unlocked. I could run, but I don't. I just sit here and wait for him to come back.

I don't know what he's doing, probably getting his kill room set up, so I just wait.

And wait.

And wait.

It's hours later before he finally returns and I still haven't moved.

"Here." He hands me the keys to my car. "Go."

I reach to grab them on instinct, looking up at him wide-eyed.

"Oh my god!" I shout, dropping my keys and jumping up from the loveseat to cradle his face gently with my hands. "What happened?"

"Jack and I had a little disagreement." Is all he says. "He and I are no longer friends."

Even though I know Jack wasn't a very good guy, he was Christian's only friend, he has been his only friend since he was 13, so I feel bad.

"What happened?" I repeat. "Did you- Christian, did you pay my debt?"

"It wasn't your debt."

"You know what I mean."

Is that what happened? Christian paid for me to be free and Jack beat him up, or did Christian and Jack fight because Christian told him he wasn't going to kill me?

"Don't worry about it, Anastasia, just go. You're free."

"What if I want to stay? What would happen?"

"Don't." He shakes his head before nodding towards the door. "Go."

"Don't you want me?"

"You're not fighting fair." He tells me, closing his eyes.

"I never have." I grab his hand and pull him into the kitchen area, asking him to get out the first aid kit; since the cabinets all have locks on them.

Making him sit at the table, I clean his knuckles, that I just now notice are just as messed up as his face. He holds onto my hips lightly as I clean his cut lip and eyebrow. He's going to have a real nasty black eye, but he doesn't look too bad. I wonder what Hyde looks like; probably worse, Christian is very much in shape.

"There." I kiss the uncut side of his mouth gently. "All better."

"Good." He smiles, though it looks forced. "Now go."

"You don't want me to stay?"

He shakes his head slightly, avoiding eye contact with me.

"Why? I don't want to go, I want to be with you, Christian-"

"You're too good for me, okay! I don't fucking deserve you, I'm a fucking monster, I was going to-" He stops, unable to finish his sentence.

"I don't care about that. I'm not leaving you."

"Anastasia!" He roars my name, making me jump. "Your stepfather was in an accident while I had you here, you need to go to him, you have to go."

"What?" Ray was in an accident?! "When?"

"He was hit by a drunk driver two days ago, they've been calling you since, but I didn't say anything. I kept you here instead of letting you go because I had a job to do. I answered your phone, pretending to be your brother so I could find out as much about his condition as possible. He's going to be fine, but that doesn't matter, I should've let you go then. Don't you see, I'm not good for you."

"I- I'll come back after I make sure Ray is okay." I tell him, rushing to pick up my keys that I dropped.

"No." He shakes his head. "Don't come back, I don't want you to and I wont be here."

"Where should I go to find you then?"

"For fuck's sake, Anastasia, I'm fifty shades of fucked up, why would you want to be with me? You shouldn't want to be with me, I'm not the man for you. Just go! Live your life and forget all about me. Go be there for your stepfather, he needs you."

I'm conflicted. I want to stay with him but I have to make sure Ray is okay. I would come back, but Christian said he wouldn't be here.

Do I stay or do I go? If Christian and I are meant to be, we will be.

Ray is what causes me to run out the door, going straight to my car.

Ignoring the throbbing pain between my legs, I climb into the driver's seat. There is a full tank of gas and a GPS with Portland hospital already listed as the destination, my bag is in the passenger seat with my phone that I thought I lost is sitting in the cup-holder. I have so many missed calls, texts and messages, including some from Portland hospital, Ray and Kate.

With one last look at the cabin, I leave it behind.

I wont say anything about Christian. I'll tell them that Jack kidnapped me and wore a mask the whole time.

As I drive, I think about everything that happened these past two weeks.

Christian, even though at first he was a monster, he turned out to be a very sweet and kind man. I know why he thinks that way, that we don't belong together, but he's wrong. I don't regret my decision to lose my virginity to him, even though I'm alive now. I think... after spending these past two weeks with him, that I've fallen in love with him. No man will ever match up to my captor.

How could he mean so much to me in such a short time?

I want to be with him, but if he wont be here when I get back, I will have no way of finding him. He pointed out his grandparents' house, which he owns, while we were on his boat, but he doesn't stay there and I wouldn't know how to get there because I only saw the back of the property. I may never see him again. Maybe, if things had been different, if we met differently, maybe we could've been together. But I guess I'll never know now.

It's been two weeks, I'm free, and now everyone lives happily ever after...

...everyone except Ana and Christian.

The End...
or is it?