Total pages in book: 47
Estimated words: 43478 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 217(@200wpm)___ 174(@250wpm)___ 145(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 43478 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 217(@200wpm)___ 174(@250wpm)___ 145(@300wpm)
“DreamCatchers don’t get their shit until I have Sara. Anyone who thinks differently can choke on my cock.”
Dove is typing away on my phone no doubt filling in Raff and the rest of the Salemburg brothers while I hear Tripp barking off orders to Tank, Boomer, BW, Red, and anyone else who seems to be close to him.
Sit tight, Sara, the calvary is going to ride in.
Sara
Franklin D. Roosevelt said it best, “the only thing to fear is fear itself.”
Except right now fear has this hold on me, and it has nothing to do with the emotion of fear. No, this have everything to do with the weirdo who has taken me on this little trip and what is to come.
Will he let me go?
How does that even work? I just poof go back to life like I wasn’t literally taken from my home at gun point.
I don’t know what to think, how to act, or what the hell to do to get myself out of this mess.
Throwing caution to the wind has really got me in a bind. I’m not so sure the orgasms were worth all this. The biker might be magic, but it’s not necessarily something I want to die over.
I look to my captor. “Adulting would be fun, they said.” I try to ease things with a joke. “They lied. Adulting is anything but fun.” I sigh dramatically trying to get some kind of read on the man in front of me. “I know you got your business to handle and all, but I sort of like my job. I’m also pretty good at it. I’ve got obligations to my boss. I also have bills to pay and animals that I love that like the special food I buy them. Kinda need my job for that stuff. If I could just use my phone to call in for the next few days, I would really appreciate it.” I try to give my request calmly. “My job, the no-call, no-show policy is sort of a big deal.”
My lifestyle is not healthy.
That is all I keep thinking over and over. Really, who will miss me other than my pets? My parents are great people, but they’re gone more than they are home. My baby sister is a competitive swimmer, so they travel constantly for her sport. My sister Carrie is this relationship, and they are all about wedding and life together. Her plate is so full it overflows. More than anything I’ve spent so much time dedicated to my job, me missing isn’t uncommon. That’s how Carrie ended up regularly taking my dogs out. I, much like my parents, can be gone more than I’m home. Therefore, no one is going to report me missing.
Jordyn, from work, she has a side business making goats milk soap. She will check in and see I haven’t milked Matilda and do the task. Unfortunately, it’s happened before where I’ve worked overnight some place and not been home to fill the jars. Once she sees that, she’ll get Matilda sorted. Then knowing I am gone, she gets the eggs from the chickens too.
It’s a great system when things are normal. Right now, it’s my very downfall because none of them will realize I’m gone in a not regular way. Only Josie will catch on when I’m not on the Thursday conference call. It’s not a real call. Since she moved to another region we don’t get to have our weekly lunch gripe sessions about how screwed up the system can be. Now we have a weekly call and neither of us ever miss it. My schedule while varied is still pretty routine and normal for me.
This, though, this is far from normal! I want to scream, cry, throw something. No one probably realizes I’m even gone yet! Like how is this my life?
“Sleep, you need to sleep. This will be over soon enough,” my captor states.
I can’t sleep. I’ve tried. My entire body is tied up in knots. I’ve lost track of time, days, where I am, where I’ve been. I know he drugged me with something, I woke up in the backseat of a car. Since then, I’ve had snack food that he tosses to me and water. The man is smart enough he put the child locks on in the car. I thought the bathroom would be my escape, but he’s clever. He would pull off the road to let me pee, guide me to a spot, turn his back but keep a rope on me where I couldn’t leave. He refuses to get me in any situation to be around people.
I have tried.
When he’s had to stop for gas, he shoots me up with whatever he has that keeps putting me to sleep. Every time I’ve tried to be awake for a stop with people, he’s been one step ahead of me. And the junk he’s pushing into my veins, each time it freaks me a little more. Truthfully, that scares me more than anything. Not knowing what he’s injecting, is frightening. Is the needle clean? What are the long-term effects? Will I wake up? Now that I’m aware of him drugging me, every prick I wonder will this be the dose I don’t wake up from? I can’t keep up with the time to know how long I’m sleeping.