If I could just get out of here, get my naked self into the range of security cameras...but would that work? Maddox's security hounds were as sex-crazed as he was. They'd probably enjoy watching.
I bit down on my lip and lunged for the handle. Just grab it, pull yourself up, and run like a mother fucker on that busted knee. Remember Mary Lou charging down for the vault on her busted knee? She got a perfect ten. I could get a perfect ten.
I surged forward, and grabbed the handle. Shoved it down, just as a hand latched onto my ankle.
With all his strength, Maddox pulled me away from the door, flipped me on my back, and hovered over me on all fours. Pinning my wrists to my side, he stared down at me, the gash on his cheek bleeding freely. A droplet landed on my chest. I flinched, because that was just fucking gross, and I squirmed, but he held me down even more severely. He was a big, brick shit house of a man. I didn't have a chance.
“Here's the thing,” he said, as if he were addressing a conference room full of attentive businessmen. “We both know you're a liar, and now I know you're a really good actress. With both of those elements firmly in place, I can therefore conclude you absolutely cannot be trusted.”
“Wow. You're smart, Señor Petersen. Is that why you get the big bucks?”
The corner of his mouth curled into a sneer, creating a little wrinkle of blood in his cheek. He sat back a little, straddling me, and reached behind him for his stupid fucking tie. He took both my wrists in his hand, and began to bind them together.
“Tsk, tsk, tsk. You were so close, too. But not close enough, obviously. What's up with your leg, anyway? Knee injury?” he paused, then held up his index finger. “Oh, wait. Forget I asked. I don’t think I really care and even if I did, you can't tell the truth, so...” he shrugged, and pulled the tie tighter.
I figured he was going to toss me back on the bed, hook me to the ring on the headboard and have his way with me. Teach me a lesson only a pig like him could teach. Instead, he pulled me to my feet, and took me to the bathroom.
“Sit,” he said, pointing to the toilet.
What did he want? To watch me pee? Even though I had to, that was the sickest thing I'd ever heard.
“You're a twisted piece of–“
He slammed the lid down, then slammed me onto it. “Just sit down and shut the fuck up,” he hissed, and pulled the bottom cabinet open.
He took out a garbage bag and started putting things from the drawers and the shelves into it. Razors, nail clippers, the usual stuff. Stuff I could use to free myself or to hurt him, I guess.
“In case you get any clever ideas,” he noted, dropping in a nail file while confirming my suspicions.
“Am I spending the night, Maddy?”
He cringed when I called him 'Maddy'. I really liked that.
He threw in his toothbrush, aspirin, even the shelves from the medicine cabinet.
“Why don't you just call the cops?”
He took a twist tie and secured his bag together before pulling the washcloth from the rack, and cleaning the wound on his cheek.
“That's a very logical suggestion, Sofia” he said, running the water over the cloth, and dabbing at his face. “The cops would take you away, though. Lock you up, throw away the key.” He shut off the water, and smiled at me as devilishly as he could. “But that's going to be my job,” he said.
A flutter of nerves blew through my stomach, leaving me feeling even more uneasy than I’d felt this entire time.
“You afraid of a trial, Maddy? The media finding out what kind of luna-fucking-tick you are?”
He shrugged. “I can’t exactly say I give a fuck what the media thinks. Besides, my little fetishes aren't illegal.”
“They are if you're doing them to someone against their will.”
“What you did is against the law. Pulling a gun on someone with the intent to kill them. I believe that's known as premeditated murder. Attempted murder, too. Both of which are against the law, in case you’re wondering. Oh, and wait, let's not forget breaking and entering. Your list goes on, Sofee. Needless to say it's just going to boil down to your word against mine. And my word is worth a hell of a lot more than yours,” he grinned, wincing just a bit. “All those conspiracy theories you hear about judges being bought and the court systems rigged…? They’re not theories. In fact, they’re all true. I can have you committed with one swipe of my pen across my check-book.”
“Nobody uses checks anymore.”
“I like your style, Sofee.” He tossed the washcloth into the trash can, thought better of it, then took the whole wastebasket and his big bag of toiletries to the door. “It’s such a pity I can't say you'll think the same of mine.” He gave himself a moment to ogle me some more, his eyes smiling as they locked on my chest. I covered myself the best I could. “Good night, honey. Sweet dreams.”
He blew me a kiss, shut off the light, and locked the door behind him.
So there we had it. Another plan of mine foiled. And I had no one to blame but myself.
I don't know what led me to believe I could be some action hero, an exalted martyr, willing to sacrifice everything in order to exact a brutal retaliation on the evil Maddox Petersen.
This was no fairy tale, no movie or hit Netflix series. This was just me and my underwear, sitting on a low-flush toilet, tied up and locked in a billionaire's bathroom. At least he didn't stick me on the stupid bidet.
I could drink from the tap, too,
