Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 77889 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 389(@200wpm)___ 312(@250wpm)___ 260(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77889 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 389(@200wpm)___ 312(@250wpm)___ 260(@300wpm)
“He’s been here for weeks asking about Samantha and nobody thought to call up to the Mother Ship and tell someone about it?” Roark demanded, glaring at them.
The Light Twin shrugged sheepishly.
“He’s always been extremely friendly. He even waved to me as he and your female were leaving.”
“So she got into his vehicle?” Roark’s heart sank. “Where did they go? What’s his fucking name?” he growled, his frustration spilling over.
“Even if we could remember his name, there’s no guarantee he gave us the right one,” the Dark Twin said, frowning. “But we might at least have his license plate number.”
“His what?” Roark frowned.
“The number on the back of his vehicle. Humans use it for vehicle identification,” the Dark Twin explained. “Come on—we’ll look at the surveillance footage from the front of the building and see what we can find.”
“And this number—it will lead me to the male who took Samantha?” Roark asked.
“Certainly. We are cross referenced with the human system,” the Dark Twin said. “Once we find the plate number, we can easily find the address of his domicile as well.” He must have seen the worried look on Roark’s face because he clapped a hand on his shoulder reassuringly. “Don’t worry, Brother—we’ll find your female.”
“I hope you’re right.” There was a tightness in Roark’s chest that wouldn’t go away.
He only hoped he could find Samantha before it was too late.
Forty-Eight
“Put it on. All of it.” Her captor nodded at a pile of clothing he had dumped on the rose-petal strewn bed. He loomed over Sammi as she sat there on the edge of the mattress, her hands still cuffed in front of her.
Sammi looked at what he had brought. There was a red sheath dress made out of some kind of stretchy, shiny material, a pair of black fishnet pantyhose, and a pair of high black stiletto heels.
None of the clothing was in style at the moment—either on the Mother Ship or on Earth. It looked like something from a bygone era. Sammi wondered if her captor was fixated on something or someone in the past who had dressed like this.
Whatever the reason, maybe she could work it to her advantage.
“I can’t,” she said, looking up at him. “I mean, I can’t put all this on with my hands cuffed.” She held up her cuffed hands as evidence. “How would I get my arms through the sleeves?”
“Well…” Her captor frowned. His face was dark with heavy black stubble and Sammy thought the expression made him look like an angry bear.
“Please,” she said quietly. “There’s no way I can fight you—you’re way too big and strong. So what harm could there be in uncuffing me?”
Her subtle appeal to his vanity seemed to work because he smirked and nodded.
“You’ve got a point, Beautiful. All right, I’ll uncuff you but no funny business, understand?”
“Of course not.” Sammi swallowed. “I’ll just…just get ready for our date. That’s all.”
She hated to do it, but it seemed to her that her best chance of getting out of this alive might be to play to his fantasy. If she kept on denying it, it would only make him angry and mistrustful of her.
It seemed she had said the right thing because her captor nodded approvingly.
“I’m glad you’re starting to see things my way, Beautiful.”
He fished a set of handcuff keys out of one pocket of his ragged jeans and leaned down to unlock her. Sammi couldn’t help thinking that the dirty jeans and stained T-shirt he was wearing were in definite contrast to the fancy dress-up clothes he’d commanded her to wear.
After unlocking the handcuffs, he held them up.
“These will go back on if you’re not nice to me, Beautiful. Understand?”
Thinking of what “being nice” to him might entail made Sammi’s stomach do a slow forward roll but she only nodded.
“Yes, of course… Er…what should I call you?” she added, wondering if she would get his full name.
He frowned. “You don’t need my name. For now, you can just call me Sonny.”
“Sunny as in sunshine?” Sammi asked, frowning.
“No—as in son. You know—Sonny-boy.” He smiled at her, showing those crooked teeth again. “That’s what you can call me, Beautiful.”
“You can…can call me Sammi, if you want,” Sammi offered in a dry voice. She was still hoping to get him to see her as a human being—not just an object to play with. Maybe if he used her name it would help.
But her captor only shook his head.
“Nah, you’re Beautiful,” he said firmly. “Just like all the others.”
“All…all the others?” Sammi could barely get the words out. “What do you mean by that?”
“You know—all my other dates.” He winked at her. “But don’t worry, Beautiful—you’re the most important and special of all. I’ve never spent so much time trying to get to know a date as I spent on you.” He frowned. “Money too. Traveling from the West Coast to the East Coast and setting up a whole new hideout for dates isn’t cheap, you know.”