* * *
Seventeen minutes later, I hear footsteps.
My head jerks up, but even then I have trouble placing their location. Are they coming from above me? On the other side of this wall? The sound bounces around the passage, and only one thing is clear: wherever they are, they're getting closer.
I draw my knees up to my chest and wait, rigid. My mind is racing. Should I stay here like this? Or should I try to spot him through the spy holes along the walls? If I move, there's a chance he'll hear me, but it would give me an advantage to see and know exactly where he is.
In the end, he makes my decision for me. Just when I'm about to make a move for the spy holes, my ears finally pick up on where he is, and it's no wonder it took me so long to place him.
He's in the passageway with me.
Shit! How did he find me so fast? Did he slip a tracking device on me or something?
But no, I realize too late that he probably had the same idea I did. He wanted the secret vantage points these passageways offered. I'm an idiot for underestimating him in his own house.
He's too close now. There's no time to run. If he hears my footsteps he'll chase after me, and he proved back on the first night when he tackled me outside that he can outrun me. No, my only chance is to remain hidden and hope he walks right by.
I move slowly to my feet. Farther down the passage I see the soft blue light of his phone bouncing off the darkness. I sidle along the wall, feeling behind me for any nook or cranny where I might duck out of sight. After a few desperate moments I find a little alcove, and I manage to squeeze inside just as Calder comes around the curve in the passage.
I hold my breath as he strides toward me. He holds his cell phone out to light the way for his feet, and the light moves over the spot where I was sitting just a moment ago. At least I made the right decision in moving.
He stops next to the spy holes that look onto his bedroom. In the dim light, I can just make out his face. The way the shadows play across his jaw and cheekbones only enhance the intensity radiating from his eyes. There's no doubt he means to find me—and have his way with me. A shiver races down my back.
I watch him lean forward and peer through the slits in the wall. Arrogant asshole. Does he really think I'd be dumb enough to hide in his bedroom? I want to laugh, and I bite down on my lip to stifle the urge.
He turns back around, and I press myself as much against the wall as I can. For a moment I'm sure he's seen me—but then the blue light passes over my hiding spot and moves further down the passage, and Calder's footsteps recede as he continues on his way. As soon as the light disappears, I release the breath I've been holding.
That was close. Too close.
My heart is thumping madly in my ears. I curl my hands into fists and press them against my thighs.
I should be nervous after coming so close to losing, but my body has a different reaction. Once more, I have to fight down the urge to laugh—Calder doesn't even have to touch me or look at me and he still manages to turn me on.
But I can't risk another close encounter like that. Especially if I'm getting aroused by the thought of him catching me. If he's using the system of passageways, then I need to get out of here. I don't know where they lead or how far they extend, but there's no guarantee he won't come back this way. Better to move away from him.
I start down the hallway in the opposite direction of Calder, back toward my room. I try to move as quietly and as swiftly as possible. If I could hear his footsteps long before he reached me, then my movements will echo as well.
There's only one problem: I can’t remember where my room is.
The last time I used the passage, I left the door open behind me. This time, I shut the door, and now I don't know how to find it again. I stumble along, peering through every set of spy holes I manage to spot in the darkness, but I don't know the house well enough to get my bearings from the rooms I see on the other side. At regular intervals I spot the palely painted door handles, but I'm not reckless enough to open any of them without knowing where they lead—or where Calder is.
I keep walking. Right now my priority is to get as far away from Calder as possible, but I keep my head up and my eyes on the walls, looking for the next door or set of spy holes.
I'm so focused on finding my escape route that I nearly trip down the flight of stairs that suddenly appears in front of me. I gasp and reach out for the wall, and I manage to catch myself on a railing before I fall and break my neck. My phone clatters to the ground and tumbles down several steps. The sound echoes down the length of the passageway.
I stand frozen for a long, breathless minute. Was Calder still in the passage? Did he hear that? I strain my ears, but I don't hear any approaching footsteps. Still, I have a bad feeling in my gut. I need to get out of here—and fast.
I hurry down the next few steps and crouch, fumbling around in the darkness for my phone. As soon as I find it, I take off down the stairs, moving as quickly as I can without risking another fall. The stairs go on much longer than I expect, far more than a flight, but at this point there's nowhere else to go but down.
How deep does this place go? I wonder.
It's not until the steps finally stop—and I notice the sudden coolness—that I remember Calder's earlier comments about the dungeons.
I assumed at the time he was joking, but now that I'm here, I'm not so sure. The glow from my cell phone reveals the edges of a door ahead of me. I take a deep breath and push it open.
The hallway on the other side is as dark as the passageway—far darker than most of the rooms and corridors upstairs, where the windows let in light even on rainy days like today. I edge my way along the closest wall, a hand out for support, and my fingers brush against stone.
Looks like he definitely wasn't kidding about that dungeon bit.
I don't know what I'll find down here, but there's no way I'm giving up the chance to explore a little. What do eccentric billionaires keep in their sub-basements? Vaults of jewels? Stashes of the latest designer drugs? Dead bodies of people who defied them?
My hand brushes against a door, and I fumble for the handle in the dark. It's locked. About ten steps later, I find another door, but this one's locked, too. And then another, and another—this entire basement is stone walls and locked doors. I'm screwed if Calder catches me down here. There's nowhere to hide.
My body is tense, my skin alive with nerves. The thought that Calder is somewhere above me, hunting me down, incites a feral excitement in me. If he catches me down here, what will he do?
My heart almost leaps out of my chest when I find the next door unlocked. I slowly push it open then raise my cell phone to try and light the darkness beyond.
There's nothing here. No storage boxes, no cases of jewels, no dead bodies. I wander around the room, inspecting every corner, but I'm in an empty stone cube. A small one, at that. It really does feel like a dungeon cell—all that's missing are a few chains on the walls.
I flip my cell phone closed and sit down in one of the corners, trying to catch my breath. I'm not sure why this place flusters me so much, but I'm already too far gone to fight the fluttering in my stomach. There's no point in denying that a part of me wants him to catch me, but I won't willingly lose this contest. After the time is up, however, then all bets are off.
I glance down at the time on my phone. Twenty-eight minutes left. Halfway done. I can do this.
The minutes tick by slowly, all the more because I can’t see anything around me. I can only focus on the excitement running beneath my skin. When I close my eyes, I can only imagine the things Calder has planned for me upon my capture.
I should feel bad for indulging my imagination, but I don't. I'm not ashamed of the fantasies playing in my mind, nor am I ashamed of the anticipation coursing through me. I feel alive and wild and free. I feel like this place, this mansion, is entirely removed from my old reality. My normal life and all its stress and responsibilities are far away. In here I can be re
ckless. In here I can be shameless and unrestrained. In here I can explore every dark, wicked corner of myself.
When I finally grow impatient and look down at my phone again, there are only seven minutes left.
I draw my knees up to my chest and rock gently. I don't want to admit it, but I'm a little disappointed Calder hasn't come for me yet. After our close encounter in the passageway upstairs, I thought I'd spend the entire game on my toes, just steps ahead of him, breathlessly out of reach.
Just when I’m about to resign myself to the letdown, I hear a sound out in the hallway.
I hold my breath. For a moment, I hear nothing but silence. I’m beginning to think I might have imagined the noise when suddenly it comes again.
There, down the hall—is that the sound of a door closing? Has Calder stumbled down here at last?
For a solid minute I don't hear anything more, and then there's a footstep, light but distinct. Yes, there's no denying it—someone's walking down the hallway. Toward the room where I wait.
I press myself further against the wall and flip my cell phone open for one last look. Three minutes until the alarm goes off. Three minutes, and I'll have the money the Center needs to survive.
I hear the jiggle of a door handle. Not mine, no—three doors down, maybe four. This level is so quiet that I can practically hear my heart pumping.
Outside my cell, Calder moves a few more steps and tries the next door. I shouldn't have chosen the first room I found unlocked, I realize suddenly. He'll move on from the locked doors quickly, but he'll stop and search this room, and there's nowhere in here I can hide.
I'm tempted to pull out my phone and check the time again, but it's too risky. Instead I remain curled up on the floor, afraid to move, and I wait.
Calder tries the handle of the room next to mine. One jiggle, two. And then his footsteps approach my door.
I'm lightheaded. There can't be more than two minutes left. If I can escape him for just two minutes…
The handle of my cell turns, and the door opens with a click that seems to echo throughout the room. I stay perfectly still. A single breath or the tiniest shift of my foot might alert him to my presence.
He steps into the room. He moves slowly, as if he's unaware that his time is about to expire. Or maybe he does know—maybe he already knows I'm in here, and it's all part of his game.
Every nerve on my body is afire. My muscles tighten, urging me to jump, move, run—but I can't. I won't. I ignore the knots twisting in my belly, the desire growing between my legs, and I wait, frozen, for the end.
Calder's footsteps move forward, toward the far wall. He pauses only briefly when he reaches the corner adjacent to mine. He's no more than twelve feet away from me now.
How much time is left? It can't be more than a minute.
His steps turn, and now he's moving along the wall. I can hear his fingers graze against the stone. His steps are slow, deliberate. He's only ten feet away from me now.
I should run. Or better yet, crawl. Maybe I can stay beneath his arms. If he doesn't touch me, then he doesn’t win. Even if my shoe squeaks against the stone, I might be able to evade his hands in the darkness.
It’s risky, and I’m too close to winning. There can't be more than thirty seconds left.
But Calder can't be more than five or six steps away.
I lift myself off the ground, only just enough to slide myself a couple feet to the left.
Calder doesn't break his step. He doesn't appear to notice my presence at all.
I shift another couple of feet. Why haven't our phone alarms gone off yet? How much time is left?
Calder has reached the corner where I was hiding just a moment ago. If he could see through the darkness, he could grab me easily.
Are there ten seconds left? Twenty? I'm so close. Just a little longer…
My phone starts to vibrate in my pocket. Relief sweeps over me, but dread follows just a quickly. It's not my alarm going off—it's my normal ring tone. Someone's calling me.
Calder reacts before I have time to recover from the shock. He dives toward me, and his hands grab me in the dark.
“Caught you,” he says, his fingers digging into my skin.
Then, only then, do our respective alarms go off in unison.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN