The Hunted

Kevin awoke slowly, mind still in a haze. He couldn't pinpoint his surroundings, but suspected the tequila was likely to blame. He stretched luxuriously, but lowering his arms proved impossible. He giggled his arms, cringing at the sound of metal scraping against metal. The noise made his head throb. He shifted, excruciatingly slowly, straining to see above his head.

Kevin found himself confined to be bed, restrained in place with a set of handcuffs at each wrist. Head reeling at the sight, he shifted his gaze down to his feet. Both legs were restrained as well. Testing the limits of his confinement, Kevin could move no more than an inch in either direction.

He worked to clear his cloudy mind so he could assess his current surroundings. He was on a bed, one with an ornate metal headboard. His cuffs were linked to it through a series of curlicues. At least the mattress is soft, he thought for a minute before chastising himself.

He was clearly in danger, despite the plush comforter and inviting silk sheets he lay upon. He forced himself to continue his investigate the small room that held him captive. White walls. No windows. No sounds of passing traffic or sirens, assuring him he was no longer in the city.

Think man! He commanded himself silently. What the hell happened to me tonight? Was it still night? Fuck! Where I am? He started to panic.

The scent of roses and citrus wafted through the air. The tantalizing combination triggered a memory buried deep within his brain, obscured by layers of drug and alcohol fueled haze.

A woman. It was always a woman. But this one... Stunning didn't begin to describe her. Hair dark as night, eyes that sparkled like emeralds. Her voice was music, though he could not recall a single word of the lyrics.

The night slowly began to come back to him in flashes.

The club.
His bitch girlfriend. Ex girlfriend.
Tequila.
Her. Watching him from the dance floor.
Him. Amazed at his luck.
The bartender...

A light bulb went off. The bottle from the top shelf. The strange green drink sparkling in the lights from a tall glass.

The woman again. Moving closer, lips looking so inviting. Even wasted, he didn't have the courage to make a move. She did. Pain shot out when she bit his lip and Kevin could taste his own blood. He had pulled away, hand over his mouth. The woman took his glass, drinking deeply. Then her mouth returned to his, tongue flicking over his wounds.

Within seconds his body had gone completely numb. Strong hands caught him before he fell. Carried him to a car, where he promptly lost consciousness.

Kevin's heart began to race when he heard the footsteps in the hall. They stopped outside his door. There was only one of them if the shadows under the door were any indication. The door knob slowly began to turn.

Friend or foe?
Danger or salvation?

Kevin tried to swallow back the fear, as he waited to see what lurked behind the door.

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This was part two of the story that began here. I'll finish it up on Friday. (Shocking, right? Three posts from me in the same week)