Bound

Chapter Nine

He had dropped her off only days ago at her disgracefully small apartment.   Of course, she'd been too nervous to ask him in, had had him drop her off near the silly plastic tourist trap shop she lived above.     In those days Gareth had been busy.  Readying all he needed to ensure a successful capture.   His travels took him far out of Sail Shores, to the mountains north of town.   

It was here he prepared.   The Audi had been parked, replaced by his black Mercedes E-Class Sedan, darkly tinted windows, black leather interior.  Her room was close to completion, painted as dark as his car, and devoid of any light or joy.   It was bleak to the point of harsh, as he knew it would need to be.   He was on edge, excited and eager to have her here.  

Walking the stark room again he tested the locks, the soundproofing.    There would be no mistakes, no missteps.   It was time, he was past patience.   Leaving the small cell he walked out of the home and into the night, drawing on black leather gloves.   Switching on the audio he listened as a haunting version of Music of the Night played forth, stepping on the gas and beginning the four hours' drive back to Sail Shores, the newly risen moon above in the dark sky.

On her patio that night Brianna watched the play of the waves in the distance, dimly lit by the half moon in the sky.   She hadn't seen or heard from Gareth since he'd dropped her days ago.  He'd been pleasant but brief and she'd felt chilled as though stepping outside on a cold winter's day.     Frowning into the dark she shook herself.  If he wanted to see her, he knew where to find her she thought.   Doubt filled her mind.  Why hadn't he called, why hadn't she seen him at all?  Yesterday at the diner she'd been so distracted Yolanda had sent her home early, after she'd dumped a pot of hot coffee on a customer.   

A trip to the grocery store in slight hopes of seeing Gareth somehow had been even worse, as Alfred had mentioned seeing "her fancy man" leaving town.   Sighing she rose from her chair and got ready for bed.  She was disgusted with herself.   She had fawned and acted a fool at that house, he probably had figured her for a gold digger and thought the better of befriending her.  

Brushing her golden locks she looked dispiritedly about her small home.   "This is what you get for believing in fairy tales Bree" she softly muttered to herself, putting down the brush and slipping into bed.  Shutting the lights off she fell into a troubled sleep.

It was well after midnight when he slipped the lock on her door, entering her apartment with ease.  The deadbolts and chain on the door had been child's play for him.    The inside of her home was in a decor he considered extremely pleasant, she used color and flowers to bring life to the small walls.   Here more than anywhere he smelled her scent, it lingered on everything.   He cast a glance towards her small bed where she lay, blissfully unaware of his presence.   Unaware she would remain, he mused, until everything was perfect.  

He walked to her bed, the only light coming from the moonlight through her balcony window. Beautiful in sleep,  her innocence touched him.  She would be so much greater he thought, by him, following his direction and acquiescing to his every whim.   From his coat pocket he drew a syringe and carefully, like the whisper of a butterfly's wings inserted the needle in her arm.   She barely moved at the pinch, and he smiled, depressing the plunger until the amber liquid entered her bloodstream.   

Now he had but to wait, and he opened the small suitcase he'd brought with him, extracting a iron strong length of soft silk rope.  Only the best for his new subservient he chuckled.  Glancing at the clock on her bedside table he listened as her breathing deepened in the way only powerful drugs could induce.    

Time to begin he thought, moving towards her with grim purpose......