Had I got it wrong? It was hard to tell. When I’d first snatched her, she had acted genuinely scared but then she’d acted so well the entire time she’d been with me, it was hard to know what to think.

I didn’t hear the safe word when I was taking her into the park so I assumed everything was okay. She still acted shocked but she had reassured me she knew the arrangement before she left. I had taken every possible precaution so why had she looked so sad in the car afterwards?

It took the edge off what had been the most exciting thing I’d ever done. I wasn’t kidding when I told her it was the best sex of my life. Something about the danger, the excitement, did something very special to me. I thought it had done the same to her.

But maybe not.

She barely said goodbye when she got out of the car. I watched her walk up to her front door, dressing gown wrapped around her. I’d brought it in the car ready for her to wear afterwards. Tearing her clothes off was one thing, leaving her to freeze for the rest of the night would have been going a bit far.

She had vanished into the house without looking back. I’d been sure she would look back.

I drove away. Was that how this worked? Once the deed was gone, she didn’t need to be in character anymore, she could go back to being the real her?

I headed home, my phone starting to ring just as I reached the drive. I pulled over and answered, hoping it was her. Of course it wasn’t, she didn’t know my number.

It was the agency.

“Mr Carrington,” the voice said on the other end. “I was hoping you'd call me back. I must say I am very disappointed.”

“You’re disappointed?” I asked. “How do you think I feel?”

“Your personal feelings do not matter to me. I am afraid I have had to charge you an additional cancellation fee.”

“But-”

He talked over me. “It is bad form to not cancel in advance. It is worse form to simply not send the invite and assume we would cancel things without being informed. Very poor show, Mr Carrington.”

“Wait, what? What are you talking about?”

“You did not send the invite, correct? Did you find a date for the evening and think we would just be happy to fall by the wayside? A lot of preparation went into this, Mr Carrington. We expect our full fee plus the cancellation charge in our account by nine o’clock tomorrow morning.”

“Now just hold on a minute. I did send the invite. I’ve just dropped her off at her house for crying out loud.”

“Do you think you’re the first client to try a ruse like that?”

“Right,” I said, snapping down the phone. “You listen to me. I sent the invite like you said. Ms X has just left my company not twenty minutes ago. I think you’ve got your wires crossed somewhere and if you think I’m paying for your screw up, you’re very much mistaken.”

“The invitation was not received, Mr Carrington. Are you certain it went to the correct address?”

“Yes, I’m certain. I’ve still got it on my phone. Thirty-six, Meteor Street.”

“You’re sure?”

“Yes, I’m bloody sure. I’ve just dropped her off there.”

“Oh dear, Mr Carrington. The address I gave you was number twenty-six.”

“No it wasn’t.”

“I assure you it was. You might make mistakes. We do not.”

He carried on talking but I had stopped listening. It didn’t matter whose fault it was. My brain was already retracing the steps back to writing the invites. Sent to the wrong address. Received by a girl who knew about me and couldn’t believe her luck. That was why she didn’t know about being topless for the matching. That was why everything was such a surprise to her. That was why she was acting so well. She wasn’t acting at all. It was all real to her.

That meant…

That meant she was genuinely afraid when I snatched her off the street. Worse, that meant she didn’t know what the safe word was. No wonder she didn’t say it. She had no idea what it was. She even told me she didn’t know what it was and I just thought that was part of the act.

“Mr Carrington? Are you still there, Mr Carrington.”

“I’ll send the money in the morning,” I said quietly before hanging up the phone.

I spun the car around, racing back down the street. I only hoped I wasn’t too late. If I didn’t get to her and apologise quickly, I knew what would happen. She’d call the police and I’d be in jail quick sharp. What defence did I have?

I’m sorry for snatching her off the street and fucking her against her will, officer. I thought she was an actress and I could have sworn she was happy for me to do it.

I gripped the steering wheel so hard, my knuckles turned white. How could I have been so blind?

That was why she’d looked so sad when she’d sat in the back of the car. I’d terrified her, I’d done things she didn’t want. She thought I was a…I couldn’t even say the word but it wasn’t something I wanted to be called.

I got to her house in record time, running up to the door and hammering on it. Was I too late?

It was a good minute before the light came on inside. I was all ready to start my speech when I realised it wasn’t her. It was someone who looked a little like her but was at least thirty years older, almost no hair, blanket wrapped around her shoulders. "You must be Fiona's mother."

She looked out at me, her eyes narrowing. “You must be Arthur,” she said, not smiling. Each word seemed to suck the energy from her and she had to grip onto the doorframe to stay up right. After she spoke, she coughed harshly.

“Is Fiona there? Can I speak to her?”

“I’m not sure that would be wise, Mr Carrington. I don’t know what you did to her but whatever it was, she is very upset.”

“Please, if I could just speak to her and explain, I’m sure-”

“No. I think you should go. I don’t like to see my daughter upset and if you’ve hurt her, you’ll have me to answer to.”

I thought about going but then I thought of Fiona and I was damned if I wasn’t going to fight to make this right. I didn’t even care if she called the police, I just wanted her to know the truth. I’d made a mistake.

“Please, just one minute with her and then I’ll go. I swear.”

She looked at me without speaking before taking a single step back. “One minute and not a second more,” she said. “And only because something tells me to let you. One word from her and you’re gone, deal?”

“Deal. Where is she?”

“Upstairs, first right.”

“Thank you.”

I could hear her crying as I walked upstairs. Stopping outside her bedroom door, I knocked and waited, the longest wait of my life spent on that square of carpet, time stretching out into eternity as she sniffed on the other side of the door. Then she spoke.