Kidnapped By The Prince ✔️

Chapter 19

"Now?"

"No."

"How bout now?"

"No."

"You sure? I feel like it's now."

"No."

"Now?"

"Hadley!" Parker groans.

"But I don't like not being able to see, jackass." I argue. "Can I please just take off the blindfold?"

"No."

I groan and flop back into the seat. Parker continues to drive, ignoring my obnoxious self. Not a lot of people can do that.

Respect.

"Can you turn on the radio, at least?" I ask.

"No."

"Ah, come on!" I exclaim. "Just let me listen to some Taylor Swift!"

"Good God, what is your obsession with her?!" Parker groans, equally as irritated.

"She's got some good shit!" I squeal.

"If I turn on the radio, it'll give away the surprise!" Parker whines.

"How?!"

"It's all local channels now, if we even get signal."

"Can I play games on your phone?"

"Didn't bring it."

"What."

"What?"

"How did you not bring your phone?! We could die - " I feel my pockets. "Shit. Mine's not here either."

"I know." Parker replies in a duh-tone. "I told you to leave it on the counter."

"Oh yeah." I muse. "How come?"

"I didn't want any distractions." Parker shrugs.

"Are you going to kill me?" I ask.

"No, why would you say that?"

"Because your answer just sounded like 'Yeah, but I'll lie to you just to make you feel better. Until I stab you in the throat and watch the life slip from your eyes as I wipe the blood from my hands onto the grass.'"

The car slowly stops.

"That sounds a little morbid for this," Parker mumbles, removing the blindfold from my face. I stare out the windshield, gaping at the little cottage in front of the car.

"And to think you were an all-out kinda guy," I mutter, staring at the wooden panels.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Parker asks, leaving the car to come to my side. He opens my door and I grin.

"I just pegged you for a mansion-that-takes-up-the-entire-woods kinda guy, not the modest-cabin-an-hour-out-of-civilization type." I wonder aloud, taking his offered hand and pulling myself out of the car. Parker closes my door softly and pulls me up the stairs of the quaint house. He pulls a pair of keys from his pockets and flips through them, finally settling on a rusted blue one. Parker twists the key in the lock and pushes open the door, the hinges groaning in their evident protest.

"It smells like moth balls in here," I comment, looking around the living room. "But I like it."

Parker snakes his arm around my waist and pulls me into his side, kissing the top of my head.

"I hoped you would," Parker chuckles. "I'll give you a tour."

Parker takes my hand and pulls me around the cottage, explaining the rooms with detail.