Caged Byrd

Chapter 3 - A Closed Door

Once my feet crossed the threshold, elation spread through me. As I sprinted down the dark hallway, I could hear my captor in close pursuit. My toes dug into the soft carpet, trying to gain traction as I whipped around a corner and through a doorway. I found myself in a living room. Just as I spotted the front door, the air left my lungs. I hit the floor hard. "Get off me!" I screamed. Large bay windows beside the door let light stream in. I was so close. I threw my elbow back, hoping to catch him off guard and injure him.

"Stop it," he growled in my ear.

"Help!" I screamed at the top of my lungs. Maybe he had lied about being in a secluded place. Maybe someone would hear me. As I threw my elbow back again, he caught it, pinning my arm behind my back. "Ow! Get off," I shouted.

"I don't want to hurt you. You need to understand that I will always catch you, Jamie. If you had made it to the door, you still wouldn't be able to open it," he said, his lips brushing against my ear. I grunted, turning my head to try to escape the intimate touch. The hand that had been pinning my left shoulder down wound its way into my hair. He yanked, forcing my face back towards him. "You can't escape." As he shifted, I could feel his erection brush against my ass. I stiffened. "I built this place for you. I didn't want to lock you in a windowless room or keep you restrained. I wanted you to be able to move around the house freely. This is your home too now." There was something in his voice that I couldn't identify.

"A large cage is still a cage," I grunted, failing once again to escape his grasp. My scalp stung as I tried to pull away, but he refused to release the hair wound around his fist.

"Jamie, I promise you that one day, I'll open that cage door and you won't want to run away from me." He said it so quietly, I almost didn't hear him. A few seconds later, he released me. I scrambled away, glancing at the door before looking back at him. He sat, reclining back on his elbows in front of me, relaxed. I slowly rose to my feet, my eyes not leaving him. Still, he didn't move.

I made a run for the door, my heart soaring as the door knob twisted. However, when I tried to pull the door open, my spirit sank into the deepest recesses of my soul. I abused to the door in my attempts to open it and finally resorted to trying to beat it down with my bare fists before crumpling to the floor in a heap, sobbing. "I tried to tell you," he said gently, concern lacing his voice as he leaned forward. I knew I was beginning to hyperventilate, but couldn't gain control of my breathing. I clawed at my chest as black teased the edges of my vision. Fingertips brushed against my back. I flinched, pulling into a tighter ball. I couldn't breathe. I felt like I was going to pass out. Nausea rolled through my stomach as black dots filled my vision. They made me dizzy. I squeezed my eyes shut. "Jamie?" he said, sounding worried.

Through the panic, I tried to remember one of my coping mechanisms, but I hadn't had a panic attack in years. I counted down from one hundred as I tried to focus on my breathing. When I was finally able to calm enough to search my memories, I remembered the five count method. Five things you can see. Four you can touch. Three you can hear. Two you can smell. One you can taste.

As I went through the process, I could feel my heart slowing down and my breath coming more easily. My hands shook, but I had managed to pull out of my panic attack. I pressed my forehead against my knees, focusing on continuing to breathe normally and to try to forget the man that was sitting two feet away from me. The occasional glance told me that he sat, cross legged while studying me carefully. "I'm sorry," I said compulsively.

His eyebrows pulled together in confusion. "For what?"

"I -" I started before realizing what I was doing. Why the hell was I apologizing to him? "I don't usually do that in front of people."