The room is pitch black apart from a tiny strip of light running along the floor. My head feels like it’s been split open with an axe. I have vague memories of being in the Ritzy club, waiting for the vampires to feed, some guy puking up on the floor, and dancing. I recall snap shots of the evening, of bodies pressed against me, and hands… lots of hands moving over my body, but I am not sure if it’s a dream or not. Then the memories go blank and I can’t remember anything else. I must have made it home somehow though, where else could I be?

My eyes start to adjust to the light and I see shapes appearing around me. It’s odd because I don’t recognise the outline of anything. Where’s my chest of drawers? What about my side-table and wardrobe? Nothing’s making sense. It smells strange too, of disinfectant and something else that’s familiar, but I can’t quite put my finger on what it is. I attempt to sit up but my body is held down by something. Is that a strap across my chest? I try to move my legs but find that I can’t. What the hell is going on? A sudden rush of unease fills me, and I try to make myself calm down. I tell myself to take even breaths, but it’s no use; something about the way my head hurts, the fact that I am unable to remember what happened last night and the weird fogginess I feel is making me lose my cool. This place is not my bedroom. I am being held prisoner.

“Hello,” I shout, panic setting in. “Is anybody there?” I start wriggling against the straps that are holding me in place as worrisome thoughts cascade through the pain in my head. Have Rhain, Ezra and Devin kidnapped me? They said they wouldn’t hurt me. I press my eyes shut on the tears that are forming. Rhain had said he would respect my decision, that he wouldn’t take what wasn’t given willingly and yet, here I am, strapped to this bed, helpless and at their mercy.

“HELP!” I scream. “SOMEBODY, HELP ME!” I cry, tears coming in earnest now.

A door flings open violently, and I am blinded by the sudden artificial light that pours into the room. It takes a while for my eyes to adjust before I recognise my captor. Roland.

“What are you screaming about, Accacia? You really need to calm down, you’ll only strain your voice,” he says, flicking on the light switch and shutting the door behind him.

The light hurts my eyes and I close them, the outline of Roland’s shadow imprinted on the back of my eyelids. I hate the fact I’m crying, that he can see how afraid I am. I flinch as he pulls up a chair next to me. It’s an office chair, much like the ones in our laboratory. “Accacia, there’s no need for tears, my love,” he coos, wiping them away with his fingers. I turn my head away from his touch but he grabs my chin, squeezing it painfully. “Don’t do that, Accacia. Look at me when I’m talking to you!” he shouts, all pretence gone.

I do as he says.

“That’s better. You know, you really shouldn’t disobey me, it will only make this harder.”

“Make what harder?” I say, trying to get a hold of the fear I feel.

“You’ll see,” he says, lowering his lips to mine. I so desperately want to push him away but I’m trapped in his hold. He lays a wet kiss on me and pushes his tongue into my mouth, making me gag. He pulls away quickly and slaps me so hard across the face that my head rings from the force of it.

“You were much more willing with those men earlier,” he sneers. “I should have taken you while I had the opportunity, but I wanted you to be conscious, not some rag doll.”

My eyes widen at his confession, his intentions clear. “Roland, what are you doing? You can’t keep me here like this, it’s wrong.” My voice quavers and I see him smile.

“Wrong? You refusing to be my friend is wrong, so hoity toity all the time. Looking down your nose at me, just like all the others. I thought you, at least, would be different. You spend so many hours alone holed up in that house of yours, I thought you’d be glad of my company. But you’re just like all the rest.”

“Roland, I’m nothing like anyone else. We can be friends. Please, just untie me,” I say, desperately trying to appeal to his better nature.

He laughs manically. “Of course, you’ll say that now, but I saw how you were in the club. You weren’t so disgusted by those men with their dirty hands all over you. In fact, you appeared to be enjoying it a bit too much for my liking, especially from that one who decided to turn my face into a patchwork quilt. Look at my fucking face!”

I want to say he’s hideous without the bruises, but don’t. Instead, I plead with him. “I don’t know what came over me, Roland. I’m not like that normally.”

Roland looks at me thoughtfully. “Perhaps I put too much Rohypnol in your drink? I should have considered that…”

“You drugged me?” That explains an awful lot, the missing memories, the strange way I feel, the banging headache and the fact he has managed to tie me to this goddamn table.

“Oh, don’t look so shocked. How else was I going to get you back here? You weren’t going to come of your own accord. Besides, it was a happy coincidence you were there. I had my sights on someone else until you turned up. Now I have you all to myself.”

“Where are we exactly?” I say, looking about the room, trying to avoid the very real fear that Roland has finally gone insane and something horrific is about to happen to me, something I will never recover from. The room is small, cramped and filthy. Boxes are stacked up in the corner and there are pipes everywhere. The ceiling is so low that Roland has to dip his head slightly as he walks away from me.

“The last place they’ll ever look for you,” Roland mutters, and I realise then he has no intention of ever letting me leave this room. I swallow a sob. Tears are not going to help now. I have to think logically. I have to make him believe that I want him, it may be my only chance of survival.

“Roland, I’m sorry if I made you feel unwanted. I never intended to hurt you. I do like you… it’s just my life is complicated.”

He leans against the concrete wall on the far side of the room and crosses his arms. “So complicated you have not one but three lovers! Don’t make me laugh, Accacia,” he says.

“It’s not like that. I don’t know those men. I think they mean to hurt me, Roland, why else did that man turn up when he did? He must have been following me. I’m afraid of them. They took advantage of me.” It isn’t a complete lie, they do scare me, just not quite in the same way as Roland.

Roland frowns. “You did look pretty scared when he turned up the other night.”

“I was. I drove off because he frightened me. It wasn’t you, Roland. I shouldn’t have left you to face him alone.”

“But the dancing. They were touching you and you seemed to be enjoying it,” he repeated, his eyes darkening with jealousy.

“The Rohypnol, Roland. I didn’t know what I was doing…” I leave that thought with him, hoping it’s enough to convince him.

He shakes his head. “No, no! You’ve always disliked me. You’ve been thwarting my advances for months now. This is the only way.” I watch as he picks up a syringe and a small vial of medicine. He is going to drug me again.

“Wait! Please, Roland. Let me explain.” I turn my head to him, a single tear leaking from my eye. He hesitates. “Roland, I need to tell you something.”

“More lies, Accacia?” But his interest in what I am about to say is enough to stay his hand. For now.

“I have a genetic condition which means I cannot go out in the sunlight or I will burn,” I say in a rush, hoping that if I give him a little truth, then the lie won’t be so easy to spot.

“So, you’ve got fair skin, what’s that got to do with anything?”

“It’s not a simple as that, Roland. I’m afraid to get close to a person in case they find out the full extent of my condition. I push people away, keep them at arm’s length because of it.”

“What are you saying?” Rolands places the syringe and vial of liquid back on the table, and returns to my side.

He looks at me with hopeful eyes and I try not to let my disgust show. Instead, I reach for his hand as best I can whilst still strapped to the table. He takes hold of it. “I pushed you away because I was afraid you wouldn’t want me once you found out.”

Roland’s mouth pops open and his eyes light up with hope. “Wouldn’t want you? Why?”

“When I go out into the sun, my skin is so sensitive it erupts in blisters and sores the moment any sunlight touches it. I am left hideous because of it. Why do you think I spend all day in the lab, why I don’t socialise? I can’t go out in daylight, Roland.”

“I didn’t know…” His voice trails off and a look of genuine concern crosses his face. “You refused me because you were afraid I wouldn’t understand, wouldn’t love you?”

“Yes,” I lie.

“Oh, darling,” he says, reaching for the straps that are holding my legs down. He unties them, and a huge sense of relief floods through me. “No wonder you pushed me away. It makes sense now. All those hours we spent working together. All that time you wanted me like I wanted you. I knew you loved me, I just knew it.” I don’t say anything, fearing that I won’t be able to hide my disgust. I need to be free from these straps if I want to have any chance of getting away from him.

He unhooks the strap that is holding my arms and chest down and pulls me upright. I can see now that I am lying on a hospital bed. “Are we beneath the hospital?” I ask, trying to keep the conversation going so I can find the right moment to get out of this room.

“Yes,” he says, shrugging. “A friend of mine is one of the cleaners. He and I have been helping each other out. I use this room to… work in, and he gets a steady supply of drugs.

“I see,” I say. Now that I am sitting up I can see more strange objects in the room. In the corner, hanging on a coat stand, are several worrying items. I see a pair of handcuffs, what looks like a face mask of some sort and, worst of all, some kind of bondage contraption. There are whips, paddles and sharp silver objects. I dread to think what he does with them. Swallowing a mouthful of bile, I turn to face him. “Do you think we could get out of here? I don’t feel all that well.”

Roland narrows his eyes at me. “Don’t you like this room, Accacia? I mean, I’ve got it set up just how I like it.” He places his hands on my thighs and a cold dread spreads through me.

“No, it’s not that. I just think we’ll be more comfortable at my place, you know?”

“Well, considering how nice I’ve been, untying you and everything, I think I need something in return before we leave.” Roland circles his hands around my lower back and pulls me towards him so that my legs are resting between his parted legs. I know what he wants, and I have to fight the sudden urge to run. I have one shot at getting away.

“What’s that?” I ask softly, trying my hardest to stop my hands from shaking.

He lays one hand on my breast and squeezes it hard. I bite down on my scream. “Just a kiss, Accacia. You can tell so much by a kiss, don’t you think?”

“Yes,” I whisper, only because otherwise I’ll scream.

He leans forward, still painfully squeezing my breast, and kisses me, his tongue darting into my mouth. I let out an involuntary cry, but he takes it as a sign of passion and smothers me with his mouth. It’s now or never. I knee him as hard as I can in the groin, then push against him. He stumbles backwards, grabbing a hold of himself. Then I run for the door. Pulling it open, I find myself in another room like the one I was just in but three times as large. It’s stacked high with boxes, mops, buckets and floor cleaning machinery all cluttering the place. I glance about trying to find the exit but panic sets in.

“You BITCH!” I hear Roland call behind me.

Realising I’ve run off in the wrong direction I creep behind a tower of toilet rolls and hold my breath, hoping he thinks I’ve managed to get out of the room.

“The door’s locked. You didn’t think I’d be stupid enough to leave it open, did you?” My heart pounds in my chest as I hear Roland approach.

“All those things you said to me, they were all bullshit lies. I should’ve known. You were just trying to get away, just like all the rest, and now you’re going to pay for it.”

I look up to see Roland staring down at me. His face is as red as his hair, and an angry vein bulges on his forehead.

“Please, don’t,” I beg, all self-respect gone. Begging is all I have left.

“Please, don’t,” he mimics, leaning over and yanking my arm so that I stumble forward. Out of the corner of my eye I see a mop handle and I lunge for it. Roland stops me before I have a chance to grab hold of it.

“Don’t even think about it,” he seethes, and I can see the hate he has for me. But that isn’t what scares me, what scares me is how much he seems to be enjoying this.

My fight-or-flight response kicks in and I push at him, scratch his face, kick, punch, scream, trying anything I can to be free of him and what he has in store. But somehow he manages to overpower me, and I am pressed to the floor, with him straddling my body.

I scream in rage, in anger, in fear. He punches me hard, and I feel my cheekbone shatter. The pain is like a firework going off in my head and stars appear behind my eyes. Then he wraps his hands around my throat and squeezes. Tiny black spots blur my vision as I gasp for breath, struggling against his hold. Through the haze I can see his face turn purple with the effort.

“No, not yet,” he says, getting off me. “First, we are going to have some fun.” I am too dazed to do anything other than struggle against his hold as he drags me across the room by my hair.