Week 258 – He felt guilty after delivering her

Tillie woke slowly, feeling like she was encased in some sort of fluffy cloud. It filled her head, filled her mouth, and coated her body in a soft cocoon.

It took a moment for her memories to come back but when they did she bolted upright and launched to her feet.

Well she tried to launch to her feet but something yanked on her wrist making her fall backwards onto the bed.

In a panic, Tillie looked around. She was in a bedroom of what appeared to be a cabin, if the wooden floors, walls, and furniture were anything to go by. The bed was big, with a heavy oak frame, and a big soft mattress, a pair of handcuffs ran from her left wrist to the headboard, and she was … in her underwear.

Tillie leaned over and promptly threw up.

Had she been raped? Was her kidnapper some sort of deranged sexual predator that intended to keep her locked up as his personal prisoner?

Yanking on her bound arm she spent the next several minutes locked in a battle with the immovable handcuffs. By the time acceptance sank in she was exhausted and her wrist was bruised, swollen, and aching.

Curling up against the headboard, she pulled her knees to her chest and hugged herself. How could this be happening? She was supposed to be safe here. Witness Protection had set her up with a whole new identity, and yet here she was, a prisoner again.

Had her new identity been breached? Was the man who had drugged her and kidnapped her been one of O’Riley’s?

The door to her room opened and a huge man walked through. He had to be close to seven feet tall, and three hundred pounds of solid muscle, he was built like a tank and any hopes she had of escaping bled away.

He stood in the doorway and eyed her for a moment, and she could have sworn she saw something like regret in his dark eyes, but she had to be imagining it. While she could hope he felt guilty after delivering her here-wherever here was-but she knew men like him didn’t have it in them to feel guilt.

Gathering the courage that was the only thing that had kept her alive this long, Tillie looked back at the big man. “Who are you and why did you bring me here?” she demanded, no way was she cowering in front of him no matter how scared she was.

After a long moment with them locked in a silent battle of wills, he inclined his head once, sending a shock of black hair over his eyes. “You’ll get your answers soon enough.”

With that he turned and walked away leaving a hint of a memory tugging at her mind. Pixie. He’d called her a little pixie right before he’d administered a drug to render her unconscious. What kind of kidnapper called his victim a pixie?

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