Blindfolds of Desire

WORSE THAN CRAZY

ARABELLA

I don't know how long I've been in this room. Twelve hours. Maybe eighteen. The window doesn't let me see much.

My wrist still aches where the rope was. I keep flexing my fingers, expecting the resistance that isn't there anymore.

The door opens.

A woman walks in. She's probably in her early thirties, with dark hair, a few strands falling over her face. She has no expression. She's holding a tray.

"Max says I should make sure you eat," she says, setting it on the nightstand.

So his name is Max.

I don't look at her. "I'm not hungry."

She doesn't react. "Up to you, but if I were you, I would eat."

She moves toward the door.

"Wait." I sit up. "Who are you and where am I?"

She pauses. Looks back. "Sofia. And you're somewhere safe."

"Safe?" I almost laugh. "I was tied to a bed for hours. Is that what you call safe?"

She shrugs, turning back to the door.

"Please… can you help me get out? I am going to pay you."

She doesn't turn. "No."

With that, she is gone, leaving me to the silence.

I stare at the tray—macaroni and meatballs. I can't fight for my freedom on an empty stomach, so I eat.

The food actually tastes good. I might as well enjoy it before Mr. Black comes back.

When I'm done, I check the door again. Still locked. The window—too high. The room is still a cage, even without the rope. I can't even escape on my own.

I lie back and stare at the ceiling.

Liam. Where are you?

Did he even try to look for me? Did something happen?

I have no clue when I slept off. I open my eyes to the sound of the door opening.

Him.

Mr. Black.

He's still in black—I'm not surprised—dark T-shirt, dark jeans. Like he's going to a funeral.

"How's our guest?" He closes the door behind him.

"Let me go, will you."

"Straight to business." He pulls the chair from the corner, spins it around, and sits. "No thank you for the food? The fresh clothes?"

"Who changed my clothes?"

His mouth curves. "Sofia. I don't have the time."

I don't know if I should be relieved.

"You are wasting your time. You can't get to my father by keeping me here."

He smiles.

"What's funny?" I am frowning now. If only I could just stab him with a knife and run off. Oh, wishful thinking.

"I can actually let you go," he says, the smile not leaving his face.

"Okay, when?" I almost feel relieved.

"When you die," he says it with such seriousness that I can feel my throat burn.

"What are you talking about, psychopath?"

I don't see him move, but his hand is on my sore wrist in a second. He presses down.

"I am worse."

I scream in pain. "Stop… please…"

He lets go.

"I am beyond crazy, oh Princess Ara. You don't want to find out."

I move to the end of the bed, touching my wrist, while he moves back to his seat and pulls a cigarette from his pocket.

There is no way. He won't kill me. Does he have MPD or something?

I manage to find my voice after a few minutes. "What do I have to do?"

He brings the lit cigarette to his lips.

"Kneel. Crawl. And beg me. I might just consider letting you go."

I thought as much. He is crazy.

What do I lose anyway? I better get it over with and get out of here. Liam is waiting.

I get off the bed, drop to my knees.

"Please, Mr. Black, let me go."

He lifts my chin with such force that I am staring directly into his eyes.

"It's Maximillian Reyes. Remember the name."

I stagger back as he lets go. The tears come falling. I wipe them with the back of my palm.

In this moment, I hate him.

And I hate myself even more for being so weak. My mom would be disappointed.

"I am sorry, Maximillian."

He moves from his chair, going toward the window.

"Won't you ask about your little boyfriend?"

My entire body shakes at the name. "What does he know about Liam?"

"Liam? What did you do to him!?"

He turns to me.

"The question should be what will your parents do to him. After all, he took their precious daughter."

I stand up immediately and walk toward him.

"Maximillian, please. Leave Liam out of this. He hasn't done anything."

"You are being unfair. What did I do to him?"

"Please… please…" I grab his T-shirt.

He looks at my hand, then pulls it off his shirt like I am staining it.

"It's your parents, Ara. They are going to teach your boyfriend a lesson. I can assure you."

I swallow the lump in my throat and go back to my knees.

I am disappointing my mom, so what? She would never find out that I knelt and begged a man anyway.

I look up, meeting his eyes. "Just let me talk to him. I will do whatever you want."

He nods.

"Very well."

---

...........................................................................

LIAM

The Garcia mansion looks different in daylight. Bigger. More intimidating.

Liam stands at the gate. His eyes are red. He hasn't slept.

The guard eyes him without a word.

"I need to see Mr. Garcia," he says, ignoring the stares.

"He doesn't have the time."

Liam's jaw tightens. "Arabella. I need to know if she's okay."

The guard looks around.

"Wait here."

He disappears into the booth. Makes a call. Liam watches him talk.

He comes back.

"Someone will come get you. Five minutes. Ten."

A black SUV pulls up to the gate. The window rolls down.

A man in a suit looks at him. "Get in."

Liam doesn't move. "Where are we going?"

"To see Mr. Garcia. That's what you wanted, right?"

Liam hesitates for a few seconds before getting into the car.

The ride is short. They pull around to the side of the mansion, a service door. Liam is led through a kitchen, down a hallway, into a study.

Victor Garcia stands by the window. Whiskey in his hand. Doesn't turn around when Liam enters.

"Mr. Garcia."

Victor turns. Looks at him. Liam feels the assessment, the disapproval.

"My daughter is missing," Victor says.

Liam's stomach drops. "What?"

"She left last night. We found a note. Said she was going to you."

"She never made it to me." Liam steps forward. "I got a text. She was at the ivory gate. I went to get her but—"

"Your truck broke down." Victor's voice is flat. "Yes. We know."

Liam frowns.

"I have people who track things like that. You're not a suspect, Aguilar. You're just useless."

The word hits. Liam feels it in his chest.

"I love her."

"Love." Victor laughs—the same laugh Arabella described. Very dismissive. "You love my daughter. Good for you. Can you find her? Can you protect her? Can you do anything other than stand in front of me and talk nonsense?"

Liam's hands curl into fists. "I'll find her."

"Will you?" Victor sets down his glass. "My men are already searching. They have resources. Connections. Money. What do you have?"

Liam thinks of his situation. He is just a little away from being in debt.

For long minutes, neither of them moves.

Liam just bows his head while Victor drinks his whiskey, observing him.

Then Victor walks to his desk. Opens a drawer. Pulls out a photo.

"Her name is Arabella. She's twenty-three, black hair, brown eyes. She was wearing jeans and a black sweater when she left." He slides the photo across the desk. "Find her. Bring her back. And if you touch her—if you've already touched her—I'll kill you myself."

Liam takes the photo. Looks at her face. His chest hurts.

"I'll find her."

He leaves without waiting for a response.

Outside, he pulls out his phone. He hasn't been able to charge it. He needs to figure out where to start.

The silver box. She wouldn't have dropped it unless something happened.

Something did happen.

Someone possibly took her.

And he is going to find out who.