❤ Stockholm Syndrome 🔫 | ✔

🖤 Chapter 8 🖤

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As James walks towards me, he smiles. For some unfathomable reason, my eyes examine him from his crown to his nether region. I get a tingly feeling inside and I bite on my bottom lip to contain a smile. My cheeks heat up as I vividly remember the dream I woke up from.

He clears his throat and I am snapped out of my daze, immediately looking back at his face. "Like what you see?" he asks.

My cheeks are flaming now. "I don't see anything," I respond shyly, looking away from him.

"What happened there?" He points between my legs."

"It's rude to point," I scold him, and he withdraws his finger. "And I just had a little accident." I smirk at him and look down at his crotch again.

"You peed on yourself!"

"Well, I couldn't exactly go to the washroom. I'm not free to move at the moment, ya know," I reply, scowling at him.

He crosses his arms. "Are you being smart with me, Erica?" he asks and quirks an eyebrow.

"I don't know. Are you, Erica?" I turn to ask no one in particular, my lips slightly curl up into a smile.

He doesn't exchange my smug expression and walks over to the table with the tools, muttering something about being a smartass. And he tells me I'm disrespectful! Picking up a hammer, he turns and glowers at me, tapping the hammer's head in the palm of his hand.

My smile disappears and I don't feel smug anymore. Instead, I begin to feel queasy, and my heart starts racing as beads of sweat run down my forehead. "J-James? W-what are y-you going to do with t-that?"

"You know those nails that are stubborn to hammer in? How you've got to...bend them a little to make them fulfil your desires?" he asks, walking my way.

He's not serious, is he? He's not going to punish me with a hammer, right? He's not going to bend me like a nail...right? No, he can't! I'm his wife!

But he slams the hammer down on the lower half of my left arm, causing me to scream out in pain. He walks around the chair to my right, and the hammer pounds my right arm. This time, I scream louder than before and then sob relentlessly. The pain is so much, and I can even see the marks left by the hammer.

He then throws the tool in a corner, brushes aside some of his hair that fell in front of his face, and then coolly walks out the door. He just leaves...like nothing happened.

I scream loudly, not caring if he hears me. I detest him right now. And to think I was his precious angel!

A few minutes later he re-enters the room carrying clean, dry clothes. I narrow my eyes, shooting daggers at and imagining a million ways to torture him.

"You need to change," he says.

I immediately and completely ignore the pain in both of my arms. Yes! I can finally put my plan to use and get out of here. I couldn't suppress a smile, but James doesn't smile back when he sees me. Mood killer.

"Why are you smiling? It's just clothes," he informs me, placing them on the tools-table.

Well, gee...I didn't know that, I'm eager to say with lots of sarcasm, but I hold back. "No reason. I'm just glad I'm finally getting out of these wet clothes."

He comes over and begins to loosen the restraints. "Yes...you smell."

Well, that's just hurtful. "Are you letting me out when you're finished?" I ask. "I've been good." I blink my eyes, letting my eyelashes do the work of making me look innocent.

"You're still not disciplined enough," he replies, loosening the strap which holds my left leg in place. I become enraged again, and while he is removing the restraint on my right leg, I kick him in the face. I knee him in the chin then kick him away, and he falls on his side, unconscious.

I finish off removing the last restraint and get up from the chair. I quickly retrieve the clothes from the table and change.

I quickly pat him down and retrieve the keys from in his pants pocket. He groans as he is coming to. So, I run out of the room and lock the door behind me. Time for a taste of his own medicine.

I run along the creepy hallway until I enter the dining room again, then run through there and into the main entrance of the mansion. When I see the front door, I run some more and reach out to turn the knob. The problem is...there is no knob, only a lock for opening the door from inside. I have no choice but to test each key to unlock the door. I've tried ten keys, but I'm still battling to find the right one.

"Who are you, and what are you doing?" asks a female British voice from behind me.

I turn around, noticing that she's one of the maids. "Please, please, you've got to help me get out of here," I beg her.

"You haven't answered my question. Who are you?" she asks, inching towards me.

Seriously? "Look, your boss is a mental break, and I'm his wife, Erica. But I want to get out of here!" I say, turning around to test the keys I haven't as yet, but now they're jumbled again. So, I have to start all over.

"Where's Mr. Augustine? How do you have his keys?"

"Will you please just help me unlock this door?"

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☆ MARDAIS ☆

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