You Do Bad Things To Me

Chapter Three

TILLY

My head pounded, a sharp ache that pulled me from the depths of a distant dream. A dream of a man with a skull tattoo on the back of his hand. Strong arms circling me like a cobra circling its prey. Rough, male voices. The rhythmic crash of what sounded like waves on the beach.

I forced my eyes open, a pained groan escaping my lips. I blinked at the unfamiliar canopy of a bed and the sheer white linens hanging above me. Forcing myself into a sitting position, I took in the massive, airy room I was in.

Disorientation hit me first.

Then, sheer panic when the memories started to replay.

I gasped, my lungs burning for air as I started to hyperventilate. My hand flew up to touch the sore spot on my shoulder where the needle had pierced my skin.

My heart pounded as adrenaline surged through me. I glanced down, nearly crying with relief when I saw I was still clad in the same pair of jeans and sweater. The only thing missing was my boots, and as far as I could feel, nothing had happened to me since I was drugged and kidnapped.

I slapped a hand over my mouth, fighting back the urge to get sick. The reality of the situation was a stab in the gut, but I forced the feeling away.

I needed to get out of here and to safety.

I swung my legs over the right side of the bed, easing my socked feet to the polished wooden floors as quietly as possible. The world swayed to the right when I stood up, but I forced my legs to stumble forward and towards the two sets of doors directly across from me.

Opening the first door, I slid a trembling hand along the wall until I found a light switch. Soft light exposed rows and rows of expensive clothes and shoes. Not just men’s clothes. Women’s clothes. An array of dresses hung on the right side, and what seemed like an endless selection of shoes at the farthest back wall.

I took a step back, sucking deep breaths through my nose. There was a female wherever I was, and I could use that to some capacity.

The next door revealed a bathroom, larger than the floor plan of my house, with cream-colored walls and porcelain white tiled floors. A basket sat between two sinks on a vanity, full of female toiletries from what I gathered from the doorway. A large walk-in shower was in the far right corner of the room, next to a large jacuzzi tub, with various bottles and candles lining the wall.

Not bothering to step into the room, I twisted around to rush across the room and to the double wooden doors that were currently shut. The sound of waves crashing hard into the ground soothed the frantic pounding of blood in my ears. Curling my fingers around the metal door handle, I pulled down while holding my breath.

Relief flooded through me when the door clicked open, the roar of the ocean and salt-tinged air rushing forward to greet me. I pulled the door open and stepped onto the balcony, my heart dropping at the vast sight of the sapphire sea. Snow trickled steadily down from the grey, overcast skies above, coating the rocky beachline below.

A strong gust of air swirled around, but I was too numb to feel it. I smashed my stomach against the balcony railing to see where the shoreline ended, but swaying pine trees blocked my scan of possible escape.

An alarmed gasp from behind me nearly sent me toppling over the balcony railing.

I whipped around as a middle-aged woman dressed in a maid’s outfit set down a tray on a bedside table and rushed towards me, errant strands of fine brown hair escaping the bun at the top of her head.

She extended a hand for me to take, eyes warm and concerned. “Ms. Winters! Please, come back inside before you get frostbite on your fingers.”

My teeth chattered violently. “Wh-where am I?”

“Please come inside before you freeze to death.”

I backed away when she took a step forward. As friendly as the woman appeared to be, panic still consumed me. “Who are you?”

“I’m Judy Roth. I’m the head housekeeper here.” She motioned with her hand for me to come inside. “Please, Ms. Winters. You need to--”

“How do you know my name?” I blurted out, tears flooding my vision. “Please, help me. I don’t know where I’m at.”

“You’re on St. Peterson Island near Alaska.”

The air in my lungs stilled as my brain tried to process her words.

“Alaska?” I repeated, breathless from shock. “I don’t understand. How did I get here?”

“Mr. St. Peterson brought you here,” Judy replied, stretching her hands to me again. “I promise you’re safe, Ms. Winters. Nothing bad has happened to you, and nothing ever will. Not under Mr. St. Peterson’s watch.”

“I was kidnapped from my house.” My lower lip wobbled as desperate sobs threatened to consume me. “I was drugged. Someone injected drugs into me with a needle. I need to go home. Please help me.”

The compassionate expression on Judy’s face didn’t budge during my emotional plea.

“Oh, honey. I’m sure you’re missing home. I made you some tea if you like.” Her smile brightened. “Something warm and minty to help you feel better.”

I gaped at her. “Did you not hear me say I’ve been kidnapped? Men broke into my house and drugged me!”

The smile on Judy’s face faltered a bit. “Ms. Winters, I know you’ve been through a lot and are understandably scared, but please take a deep breath. Mr. St. Peterson can explain everything to you.”

Images of the man on my front porch step flashed across my mind. Terror clawed at my insides again, the instinct to run and find safety taking hold of me.

My eyes landed on the open door over Judy’s shoulder. I darted around Judy and towards the door without sparing a second thought, catapulting myself across the bed and out the door into the hallway. I sprinted down the hallway, not bothering to check the many doors that lined the hallway.

“Tilly, please stop!” Judy called out from behind me. “You’re going to get hurt! You don’t know where you’re going!”

I ignored her pleas, my legs burning as I reached the top of a large and winding staircase. Jogging down the steps, I briefly paused at the bottom of the stairs to quickly scan my surroundings. A massive living area with leather couches, wooden tables, and a crackling fireplace added to the homey feeling in the air. Spotting a heavy set of doors, I weaved through the living area and threw them open, the doors banging loudly behind me as I sprinted out across the snow-covered deck.

Wind and snow ripped at my hair as I ran to the edge of the driveway. I followed the paved road, pushing through the painful throbbing in my feet. Evergreen pine trees lined the road as I continued forward, desperate to find someone. A house. Anything.

At the edge of the road, I stopped at the sight of what appeared to be a landing strip in front of me. The same sapphire sea stretched out in front of me in all directions as I stumbled out onto the paved ground, turning in a slow circle to assess my surroundings.

True to Judy’s word, I was on an island. The building I had escaped from sat in the middle of the island, towering over the tallest pine trees surrounding it. It was close to four stories high, built from logs, and had a wrap-around deck on every level. Smoke curled from a chimney, and my body started to quake with the desire to return to the warmth.

A series of cabins, big enough to fit one to two bedrooms at the most, sat on the right side of the landing strip.

The crunch of snow and gravel beneath tires sent another suffocating wave of fear crashing through me. I glanced over my shoulder as a car with blacked-out windows approached from down the driveway. I forced my stiff legs to shuffle toward the cabins on the other side of the landing strip, ignoring the jolts of pain shooting through my body. I was fixated on escape, getting help.

The car pulled up behind me, the door opening and slamming shut a second later.

“Tilly.”

My knees wobbled at the familiar sound of the man’s voice. The one who had drugged and kidnapped me. Mr. St. Peterson.

Steady footsteps approached from behind me.

“Help me!” I shrieked in the direction of the cabins. “Someone, please help me!”

“The people who live at those cabins are my employees, Tilly. Scream at them all you want, but they won’t help you.”

Employees. He said it so calmly that it left little doubt in my mind that he was telling the truth. What unnerved me even more was how he knew my name, but I didn’t know him.

I licked at my chapped lips, wincing when a rock dug into the sole of my foot.

“I want to go home,” I said, twisting around to face him. He stood a few feet back, hands buried deep into his coat pockets as snow swirled around his massive frame. His vibrant blue-grey eyes contrasted with the pure whiteness surrounding us. The air in my lungs went still at the sight of him. Beautiful. Powerful. Dangerous. Turbulent as the swirling storm around us. Everything about him terrified me. Tattoos on his neck, ones I hadn’t noticed before, peeked out above the collar of his fur-lined coat.

My heart lodged at the base of my throat, relentlessly thudding there.

“Please,” I whispered. Tears blurred my vision as he stepped forward in slow, cautious steps. “I want to go home. Please let me go home. My family--”

“You’re going to freeze to death, Tilly, if you don’t come back home.” He pulled his hand from his coat pocket, extending it for me to take. The same one with the burning skull tattoo. I curled my fingers up into tightly clenched fists, refusing to touch him or be touched.

Annoyance flickered across the sharp features of his face.

“You won’t do your father and sister any good if you freeze to death,” he said. “We can do this the easy way or the hard way, Tilly. You know I’m not afraid to do things the hard way if I have to.”

Fear rattled through my ribcage. It wasn’t just the threat that bothered me. It was the mention of Dad and Pippa and that he knew of their existence.

I stared at him with wide eyes, trying not to let my fear get the best of me. I needed to think. Concentrate.

My teeth chattered. “Who are you?”

His impatient sigh streamed out in front of him like a white cloud. “I will drag you back to the house, Tilly, if necessary.”

“I’m not going anywhere with you until you tell me who the hell you are and what I’m doing here.”

“This is your last chance to do what you're told to do,” he warned, stalking towards me with an eery confidence. “One last time, wildflower. Get in the car and come back with me.”

I stumbled backward in an attempt to keep distance between the two of us, but I didn’t have a fighting chance against him. Not barefoot and unprepared for the bitter cold penetrating my muscles and bones.

His arms, thick and powerful, looped around me, pulling me flush against the heat of his body. Bracing my palms against the bulge of his biceps, I tried to push him away from him and not savor the heat radiating off of him. Chilled and greedy for warmth, my body naturally curled into his, seeking more.

I pulled in a sharp breath, the scent of pine needles and clean soap interlaced with a masculine musk filling my lungs. Every single one of my nerves pulled taut at his proximity.

“I’m not going to hurt you, Tilly,” he murmured, his intense gaze pinning me to the spot. “It’s the last thing I want to do. I promise.”

I didn’t believe him. Not a single word, but I didn’t have a choice. I couldn’t fight him, not in this condition. I needed to regroup my thoughts and figure out what this man wanted from me.

My legs obeyed as he guided me toward the front passenger seat, opening the door for me to climb inside. His arm, heavy and unyielding, didn’t budge from around my shoulders until I folded my body into the warm, plush leather seat. He shut the door and rounded the front of the car in quick strides to the driver’s seat.

Violent shivers wracked my body as he situated himself behind the steering wheel. Without saying another word, he put the car in reverse and backed the car up the driveway. He kept his attention focused on the rearview mirror the entire time.

Hot, salty tears streamed down my cheeks as my emotions unraveled.

“Why are you doing this to me?” I whispered. “Why me?”

His jaw clenched, a muscle fluttering in his cheek.

“Tell me why.”

His lips formed a thin line.

Nothing.

Fury started to weave its way through my already emotionally strained system. Flexing my fingers to get sensation back into them, my chest heaved with each frantic breath as he put the car into park and killed the engine.

His cold gaze clashed with mine, unyielding. The thin thread of my sanity and logic snapped inside of me.

I lashed out at him, the center of my palm finding the curve of his right cheek. He absorbed the hit without flinching, not even batting an eyelash. Instead, his lips curved up into a dark, amused smile.

I flattened myself against the car door as terror gripped me all over again. Whoever this man was, he wasn’t normal. He didn’t react to pain like most normal people did. I was starting to see that by the tense seconds ticking between us.

“That was a bad idea, sweetheart,” he whispered, leaning across the center console to invade my space. “You know why? Because pain f*****g turns me on.”