❤ Stockholm Syndrome 🔫 | ✔

🖤 Chapter 17 🖤

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The next morning, James and I sit at the dining table (back at his mansion) and eat our breakfast in silence. Every time I look his way he would automatically pretend he isn't looking at me.

I wonder what's on his mind...

Probably the fact that I disobeyed him. Or maybe he was thinking about how he singlehandedly murdered both his parents in front of my eyes.

I quickly look away as his head turns back in my direction and he looks at me. "Are you happy, Erica?" He asks. I look back at him to see that he's studying me with a quizzical look.

A lump forms in my throat before I answer. No. Because you're a mental case and I'm afraid that one day you'd actually kill me, instead of loving me. I swallow the lump in my throat. "Yes." Oh, the betrayal. I wish my mouth would help me speak my mind sometimes.

James stands up and excuses himself, giving me a kiss on the cheek and telling me he loves me as he passes. I just nod in response. I notice a black, rectangular object on the table where he was sitting. A book, maybe? I get up and swiftly move towards the object, realizing, as I draw nearer, that it's actually a phone.

A phone. A PHONE!

I gape at the device on the table. I've never seen James with a phone before, but today he probably left it here by accident.

I can contact someone! But I'll need to act fast.

Swiping the iPhone off the table, I press the Home button and a lock screen shows on the display.

Input password. Damn! What could possibly be his password? I ponder for a few seconds. Oh yeah! Me!

I input my name and the phone unlocks with a click. Success!

I quickly dial my mother's cell, since that's the only number I can remember, keeping my eyes on the door in case James unexpectedly walks back in.

"Hello?" Comes a female voice from the other side of the call.

"Oh my God. Hello? Mom?"

"Erica? Is that you?"

"Yes. Yes, it's me. I'm so happy to hear your voice." I'm practically crying as I speak into the phone.

"Honey, it's so good to hear your voice, too," she says, her voice breaking as she starts to cry as well. "When you went missing, your father and the rest of the family looked everywhere for you. We called friends and put up posters. The police investigated, but couldn't find anything."

"I was kidnapped, Mom," I explain.

"What?"

"And got married. And my husband keeps me locked up inside our house all day ever since."

"Oh my God! Erica, honey, where are you?"

Before I could answer her, I hear footsteps approaching from the other side of the door.

"I'll call you back," I said.

"Wait, Erica--"

But I hang up and delete the call log entry, then rest the phone back on the table how I found it - locked.

I race back to my chair and barely make it as James pushes open the door. He stops and I look around at him scanning the room.

"Where did I put it?" he mumbles, tapping his finger on his jawline. "Ah! There you are, you little devil." He walks toward and picks up the phone from the table. As he is about to move off, he stops and frowns at the phone. "Strangely warm."

Oh, my. Please, God. Don't let him suspect anything. And please don't let Mom call back that number. I just hope that his number was private.

"I'm taking off for work now," he says after shrugging off the phone's unusual warmth. He pecks me on my cheek, but I quickly grab him by his shirt collar and pull him in for a deep, tongue-twisting kiss. He moans against my mouth but then pulls away with a smirk on his face. "When I get back, then we'll have some fun."

When he pushes the dining room door open to exit, my fear comes to life. James' phone rings.

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☆ MARDAIS ☆

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