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Captive (The Phantom Series Book 1) by Jenny Lynn (6)

Chapter Five

Ella

 

My limbs were sore and heavy, and my neck was throbbing like nothing I had ever felt before. I pushed myself up to a sitting position, opening my eyes, but didn’t recognize my surroundings. I was on a bed with grey sheets, the walls around me were dark and bare. I wasn’t at home, where was I? Think Ella, think. Retrace your steps.

I went undercover to get access to the warehouse. I got in. Dale and the men who work for him, they grabbed me. I took a pill. They pinned me to the couch, and they tried to… My heart started racing, I felt panic rising in me. Was I still in a room at the warehouse? Had they thrown me somewhere after they used me? My hands skimmed my body, I was still wearing my skimpy red dress. Something happened to interrupt them.

The Phantom. He burst in, he shot the men who were attacking me and he grabbed Dale. He told me to leave, and I was going to but something stopped me. I saw a man with a knife who was sneaking up on him from the far corner of the room. I shouted, I warned him. There was a struggle and his mask…

I gasped. Beckett Carter was the Phantom. He had saved me, but then once I saw his face, he took me. Did he remember me from that day at his office? Maybe not, I didn’t exactly look like myself right now.

I stood on shaky feet and looked around the dark windowless bedroom. There was a door in the corner. Maybe that was a way out. I slowly walked over to it, my head pounding. I turned the handle and looked inside. Tub, toilet, tile floor. It was a bathroom. I felt my way back along the wall to the other door and tried the handle. This must lead somewhere, must be my way out. The door wouldn’t budge and I realized that it was locked from the outside, I was trapped. I banged my fist against the heavy wood.

“Hey,” my voice was a hoarse croak, my throat still aching. “Hey. Is anyone there? Let me out.”

There were footsteps, then a bolt slid on the other side. As the door cracked open I threw my hands in front of my face. My skin was humming, whatever drug those men had given me was still in my system. I stood in front of the door but kept my hands in front of my eyes.

“I swear, I didn’t see anything. I was in shock, I was dazed. If you let me go, I won’t tell anyone anything.”

A man’s voice sighed. “I can’t do that. Your name is Ella, isn’t it?”

“I promise, I don’t know who you are. I won’t say anything about this.”

“You saw me. You recognized me. I know you did.”

I shook my head quickly, not sure if I was trying to convince him or trying to convince myself.

“You’re a great reporter, but a terrible liar.”

I threw my hands down and faced him. It hadn’t been a dream, in front of me stood Beckett Carter. One of the wealthiest men in Nevada, hell, one of the wealthiest men in the world. And apparently also a masked vigilante known as the Phantom. I couldn’t believe it, but it was true. Just yesterday I had sat across from him, we had talked about crime. Hell, we had even talked about the Phantom. And all this time, it was him. He watched me, waiting for a reaction.

“So what happens now? You can’t just keep me here. You can’t kidnap people.”

He raised an eyebrow at me. “You saw me shoot five people tonight, and you think I’m overly concerned about the law?”

“So what, you’re going to kill me to keep your secret? Criminals are one thing, but are you really going to kill an innocent woman?”

He ran his hands through his hair in frustration.

“I don’t know what I’m going to do with you. I need time to figure out a solution.”

“The solution is that you let me go, Beckett. You can’t keep me a prisoner. I have rights.”

“I’m not going to hurt you, but I can’t let you go yet. I’m sorry Ella. There are clean clothes for you in the dresser, you can take a shower. I brought you some food.”

Beckett turned to the side and picked up a tray, he walked into the room and placed it down on the dresser. As soon as he was out of the way I acted on pure instinct and adrenaline. I didn’t hesitate, I just acted. I bolted from the room and sprinted past him. I scanned the next room, looking for a door, feeling along the walls for a way out. There had to be a way out.

Beckett rushed from the room where he was keeping me and in four steps caught up to me, grabbing me with one arm and lifting me up. If I let him lock me back in there, I didn’t know when I would get another chance to get free. I kicked, I screamed, I hit at him with my fists but he was hard muscle and impossibly strong. My head was spinning. A part of me fought but another part felt amazing caught in his arms. Damn the ecstasy in my system Dale had made me take, setting my body on edge. Beckett carried me back to the room and threw me down on the bed, pointing at me while he glared, his eyes fierce and burning.

“Look,” he snapped. “This isn’t ideal for either of us. But no one can know who I am. Would you rather I have let them kill you before I burst in? What the hell were you even doing there?”

“My job. I’m a crime reporter, remember?”

Beckett knelt down in front of me until he was inches from my face, staring into my eyes.

“Oh, I haven’t forgotten. What a scoop this would be for you, revealing the identity of the Phantom.” I didn’t say anything. I couldn’t argue with that, this would be one hell of a scoop. The biggest of my life.

He paused, thinking something over as he studied my face. “You have no proof, you know. It would be your word against mine. No one would believe you.”

“Then let me go.” My heart was racing. He saved me, but he took me. I was grateful, but I hated him.

Beckett finally stood up, looking down at me, then gestured to the tray.

“Eat something.”

He turned and walked away, out the door. I launched for the handle but it was no use. I heard the bolt slide into place. I was trapped again. I screamed and pounded against the surface, kicking the wood but it didn’t splinter. It was solid. My hands and feet started to ache and I gave up. I needed to think, I was smart, I could figure a way out of this. If Beckett Carter was going to kill me, he would have done it back at the warehouse and left me there. People were going to realize I was missing. I would get out of this.

I walked over to the tray, poking at the food. A turkey sandwich with mustard and cheese, an apple and a bottle of water. The thought of food made my stomach turn. I picked up the bottle of water, twisted off the top and drank half rapidly. I felt thirstier than I ever had in my life. It was cool and soothing against my aching throat. That’s when I remembered that Beckett tased me back at the warehouse. Bastard.

I wandered over to the bathroom and stared at my reflection in the mirror. I was an absolute wreck. My makeup ran in dark streaks from my eyes down my face, my hair was a tangled mess, and I was still wearing the revealing red dress only now it was torn in places and covered in dust from where I dragged myself along the floor. There were bruises on my neck, wrists and legs where the men had held me down. I looked damaged and broken. I didn’t even recognize myself.

Glancing around me to confirm I was alone I stripped, then turned on the shower. Stepping inside I sighed as the water soothed my skin. This is why we use water for baptisms and ceremonies where someone is purified. Water wipes away the filth and evil, cleanses our bodies and souls. I needed all the help I could get right now.

I huddled down in the bottom of the shower and let the spray rain down on me. It was the safest I had felt in hours, but I knew this feeling couldn’t last. Sooner or later I was going to need to figure this out, I was going to need to get myself out of here.

Pushing myself to my feet, my legs protesting weakly, I picked up a bottle of soap and coated myself in it from head to toe. I lathered myself in creamy suds, rubbing carefully over the sore spots on my skin, then I let the water rinse them down the drain. I turned off the faucet and shivered as the water beaded on my skin, stepping out and finding a thick cotton towel. I roughly dried my hair, then wrapped myself as I tiptoed back out into the bedroom. It was empty, Beckett hadn’t come back.

I made my way over to the dresser and pulled open a drawer. True to his word, he had left me clean clothes. There were a few white t-shirts and black boxers. Fantastic. The man was holding me captive against my will and I had to wear his underwear. Thinking over my options I realized it was either this or my dirty dress. I dropped the towel and pulled on the clean clothes he left for me, they must be high quality because the fabric was soft and soothing against my skin.

Clean and dressed, I looked around the room again. There was no window to climb out of, no phone to call for help. The only person with the power to give me my freedom was on the other side of that door, and he didn’t seem eager to set me free. I walked over, placed my hand against the wood, then knocked softly.

“Beckett?”

Nothing. I knocked again.

“Beckett? Can I talk to you, please?”

Silence.

I sighed, then stepped back. If he could hear me, he was ignoring me right now and there was nothing I could do about it. I sat on the edge of the bed, my stomach in knots. I didn’t want food, I felt nauseous and my throat was still sore. I picked back up the bottle of water and sipped at it. My mind felt too foggy to think straight, to make a plan. I had been through so much today, more than any person should have to deal with. I placed the bottle back on the dresser then curled up in the centre of the bed with my eyes watching the door handle. It didn’t budge or turn, he didn’t come back. I don’t remember how long I watched that door handle for, but eventually my eyes grew heavy and I fell asleep.

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