Chapter 2
646 Words
I'd just opened my car door in the garage when a low whistle sounded behind me.
"Off for a little drive this late at night, Elara?"
My scalp prickled as I turned. Dorian leaned against the door of his flashy imported sports car, twirling a key around one finger.
He still wore his white doctor's coat, with two buttons open at the collar. Behind his gold-rimmed glasses, his eyes gleamed with mischief. He looked like he'd come straight from the operating room to cause trouble.
"Dorian, do you always creep around like that? You scared me half to death." I pressed a hand to my chest and glared at him.
He chuckled and sauntered over to my window. Bending down, he brought his face so close that his nose almost touched my forehead.
"Feeling guilty about something?"
"What would I have to feel guilty about? Marina's back, and I need to clear my head. Can't I go for a drive?" I lifted my chin and deliberately looked away.
Dorian tapped the steering wheel twice.
"Go wherever you like. Just steer clear of West Ridge. I hear there are stray dogs up there. If one bites our delicate little princess, Soren will tear me limb from limb when he gets home."
He had named West Ridge, of all places.
Every hair on my body stood up. I clenched my teeth until my jaw hurt.
The Ashford family home stood in the East Quarter of Aster City. I'd used my own savings to buy the old West Ridge villa, complete with a fortified basement. No one but me and the real estate agent knew about it. 'How did Dorian know the one place I didn't want him to mention?'
"Dorian, it's late. Stop speaking in riddles." I dropped the sweet act and glared at him like the spoiled younger sister everyone expected me to be.
He only laughed. From the pocket of his white coat, he took out a heavy metal object and dropped it into the bag on my lap.
It landed with a sharp click.
I looked down at a complicated black clasp lined with a fine layer of medical-grade silicone.
"What is this?" I asked.
Dorian took his time answering.
"Custom safety restraints. Our psychiatric intensive care unit just got them in. They're made of solid titanium alloy, with three mechanical springs to prevent anyone from slipping free. Even a special forces soldier trained in close combat couldn't break out of them. The breathable padding prevents chafing, too. Someone could wear them for 3 days and nights without a red mark on their wrists."
He paused, then added meaningfully, "Ordinary handcuffs are rough. Their metal edges can cut the skin. Soren's skin is so pale that if he ended up with scars, you'd be the one upset about it."
My mind went blank.
I sat frozen in the driver's seat as blood rushed to my face.
'He knows. He definitely knows. Then why the hell hasn't he called the police or rescued Soren? Why did he corner me in the garage at midnight just to give me expensive medical restraints?'
"Dorian, what are you talking about?" My throat had gone dry.
He patted the roof of my car, grinning like a fox that had just stolen a meal. "The roads are slick after dark. Drive carefully. If those restraints don't hold and Soren turns the tables on you, call me. I'll come to your rescue."
Then he pocketed his key, hummed a tune I didn't recognize, and went back into the house.
I stared at the cold, heavy restraints in my bag. My palms were damp with sweat.
'The whole Ashford family has lost its mind. Still, these restraints feel reassuringly sturdy. They're much better than the cheap, unbranded toy I bought online.'
I floored the accelerator, and my black SUV shot into the night.
- Writer
- chap_listContents
- likeADD