Page 6 of Depredation

After tucking my flaccid dick away, I rubbed the come on her stomach into her skin.

She didn’t stir once, aside from a slight twitch of her nose.

I stood to leave, casting her one more glance.

“You’re welcome,” I responded chivalrously to the imaginary voice she thanked me with.

–Chapter Five–

Harper

I was taken.

He undressed me.

Those were my two most prevalent thoughts the second I lifted my lids and waited for the dancing black dots to clear from my vision.

The solid floor beneath my back was chilled and slightly rugged. I felt the prickling of goose bumps spread across my skin.

Inhaling a deep breath to try and calm my racing pulse, the potent aroma of cleaning solution assaulted my senses.

I pushed myself up to a sitting position, listening to my surroundings to make up for my lack of sight.

Whoever the man was, he didn’t seem to be around at the moment. That was a small reprieve.

Not wanting to alert him I was awake until I regained some of my bearings, I reached down as quietly as possible and found myself touching a metal restraint secured around my ankle.

Following the slackened chain attached to it, my palm brushed against a wall just as solid and chilled as the floor.

How long had I been unconscious?

I could vaguely remember the prick of something in the back of my neck. Whatever it was he’d given me was strong enough to keep me knocked out while he removed my clothes, chained me up, and did god knows what else.

Reaching between my legs, I almost melted in relief when I confirmed he hadn’t touched me there.

I assessed the rest of me, finding something dry and flakey on my stomach that fell off when I traced over it. Aside from that, I felt normal enough, given the circumstances.

As freezing as it was, perspiration gathered on my skin.

Once I was up on my feet, I crossed my arms, jamming my hands into my pits. It was pretty damn dark, but the floor beneath my bare feet was stone, and the wall felt like concrete.

Unable to be still, I began moving to the left. The chain scraped lightly behind me, never snagging.

I thought my eyes would have adjusted by now, but I could still barely see anything in front of me.

I reached a shaky hand out, and felt something round, sort-of grainy in texture, and solid.

Curling my fist, I moved it up and down, feeling the same thing right beside it.

“Bars,” I whispered to the silence. “I’m touching bars.”

Where the fuck was I?

Swallowing a sob, I followed them all the way down in search of an opening, running into another wall. Unable to find an exit, I used that to guide me.

The room was square, and not very big at all. I passed where the cool air was coming from and tried to find the source, assuming it was a vent too high for me to reach when I couldn’t.

I took a few more steps and then stopped abruptly, needing a few seconds to breathe and process.

I didn’t understand what was happening. Why this was happening.

I did a quick mental checklist. This situation wasn’t looking too bright for me.

A man didn’t kidnap a woman, strip her of her clothes, and then chain her up inside a cell because he wanted a simple conversation.

I wiped a hand across my brow to rid it of sweat, fighting against the overwhelming urge to scream bloody murder and wail my heart out.

Losing my shit wasn’t going to do me any favors. I needed to keep a clear head, and think rationally. I didn’t know where I was, if this man was working alone, or what made him tick.

Stepping forward again, my foot hit the side of something firm, yet soft. Crouching, I stretched both hands outward to feel it out.

“Mattress,” I mumbled, running my palms over its entirety.

It was softer than my bed at home: this wasn’t cheap. There wasn’t anything on top of it but what felt like a small burlap blanket.

Sitting back on my haunches, I looked towards the end of it and saw a faint outline. Moving towards it, I found myself in front of a plastic bucket.

I shuffled over and peered inside. In addition to two bottles of water and a small box of saltine crackers was everything he’d just bought back at the gas station—minus the cigarettes.

As I stared down at the items, I recalled how he knew my name.

I found it impossible to believe he hadn’t already known my favorite chip before purchasing them. So how long had he been watching me?

Shutting my eyes, I let a few silent tears break free.

My family was going to lose their minds when they realized I was missing.

My mother would have tucked herself into bed under the illusion that I’d be arriving safely home.

My dad would set my place at the breakfast table for a meal I wouldn’t get to eat.

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