Captive in the Dark(54)

I walked silently toward my inanimate nemesis and gave it a hard shove. The chair made a soft scraping noise against the carpet and I instantly looked at the bed. He continued to sleep. But there was no f*cking way I was going to be able to move the chair without waking him.

I glanced around the room and tried not to pass out from the rush of blood draining from my face. Hanging on the door of an armoire, was Caleb’s suit jacket and peeking out from beneath it, a shoulder holster. Could it be? Oh God, could it please f*cking be? I reached for the soft fabric and lifted it. It was the biggest damn gun I had ever seen, the only one actually – but still. I felt like vomiting. Part of me wanted to forget the whole damn thing and get back in bed. What was the saying: Cowardice is the better part of valor? Fuck it! I reached for the gun. The damn thing weighed a ton.

The armoire opened and for a moment I was actually surprised by the amount of pain inflicting instruments hidden inside. Riding crops, whips, chains, and other things I didn’t recognize from watching Real Sex on HBO while at Nicole’s house. Was that a spiky dildo? I almost swooned. Had he planned to use this stuff on me? Sick f*ck. And yet….

I spotted a pair of handcuffs, several actually, without fur on them. That meant they were real right? Cause it could be embarrassing otherwise. I was willing to take a chance. I put Caleb’s jacket on, instantly overwhelmed by the size of it. I set the gun on the seat of the chair and began rolling up the sleeves.

“What the hell are you doing,” Caleb’s angry voice momentarily had me frozen in place. Our eyes met, mine wide and terrified, his cold and venomous. I reached for the gun as he burst out of bed. I was faster. For once.

“Don’t f*cking move! Not one step,” my voice was shrill, almost panicked. I might have shot him out of fear alone and I think he understood because he instantly halted his approach. My heart was beating too fast, my vision was hazy. Keep it together Livvie. Keep it f*cking together.

“Put the gun down Kitten,” he whispered, as if I were more frightened than him. Shit, maybe I was. This probably wasn’t the first time he’d had a gun in his face, but it was definitely the first time I’d threatened someone’s life. I wanted to cry. I didn’t want to have to do this. I didn’t want to hurt him. No choice now Livvie. It’s you or him. I hated this. I felt like one of those dumb girls in the movies, holding the gun on her would-be killer and her hand is shaking and he just keeps stepping closer, but she won’t f*cking kill him. Then she’s dead. Then I’m dead.

I took a deep breath and held the gun steady, ignoring how heavy it was, ignoring the twitch in my forearms as I tried to keep it level. I especially ignored the sweat in my palms, making the handle slippery. “Please Caleb,” I almost begged, “don’t move. Let me go and don’t make me kill you, cause I will. I swear to God I will.”

He was calm, too calm. “No one is going to kill anyone Kitten. But I can’t let you go. Just put it down and I promise I won’t do anything to hurt you.” I couldn’t help but laugh. I was holding the gun, but he was the one holding me hostage. Still, my laugh was hysterical.

My mind went to that special place of mine. And perhaps, inspired by the big damn gun in my hands, conjured Dirty Harry. “I know what you're thinking,” I half choked out. “‘Did he fire six shots or only five?’ Well, to tell you the truth, in all this excitement I kind of lost track myself. But being as this is a .44 Magnum, the most powerful handgun in the world, and would blow your head clean off, you've got to ask yourself one question: Do I feel lucky? Well, do ya, punk?” Caleb’s expression was priceless, somewhere between deep concern (for my sanity) and anger (at my idiocy).

“Kitten,” he began. I cocked the gun, with two hands because I couldn’t manage it with one.

In the process my finger pressed against the trigger slightly and for the first time I saw real fear skid across my captor’s features. He swallowed. I eased my finger off the trigger, relieved I hadn’t just done something stupid, or in my case, stupid- er. I reached for the handcuffs and threw them in his direction. He caught them without breaking eye contact. “The gun isn’t loaded Kitten.”

My heart fluttered. “Bullshit Caleb. Don’t make me find out which one of us is bluffing.” He smiled, just a little. If you didn’t know him as well as I did, you’d have missed it for what it was.

I don’t know why, but I looked down at his shorts. The bastard was hard. “Cuff yourself to the bed and don’t make me ask again.”