Captured My Heart

    It's hard to think about or even remember before I met him. I do; however, remember my childhood best friend and I went out that fateful night. I remember the smell of the bar and how the atmosphere felt. I remember dancing with a stranger; he was sexy: blue eyes, dark hair, muscular build. I remember accepting a drink from this stranger and swallowing every last drop because that's what naive twenty-one-year-old me did. I can recall the feeling of my friend's hand firmly grasping my wrist, signaling I had had enough, and it was time to go home.     I do not remember the tall, handsome stranger following me home. I couldn't tell you if I opened my bedroom window because I was hot, or if he did because he saw something he wanted. I do not remember the rag soaked in chloroform held to my nose and mouth, and I certainly do not remember being put in the backseat of his white 2019 Chevrolet Traverse.     My friend, Rainey, called me after she got home to check on me, but I guess she assumed I had passed out because she saw how plastered I had been. Never in her mind would she have thought that a stranger snuck into my bedroom and carried me off into the night. I wouldn't have even guessed that would be my fate. Although I wouldn't necessarily say that, it was not by chance that a man came through my bedroom window when I was black-out drunk. The action had come from a plan: a plan which was created by this stranger over many months.     I hadn't noticed him watching me or coming into the diner where I worked. I didn't see him lurking in the alleyways as I walked the five blocks home from work, and even if I did, I wouldn't have paid it any mind because things like that didn't happen in Quin Cove. It was a small town; everyone knew everyone. Not a single soul would have suspected that I would be snatched out of my bed by a stranger.     When my parents woke up, they didn't check to see if their college-aged daughter was still in her bed safe and sound. They just figured I was in bed, hungover, or at Rainey's house. The alarm bells didn't sound in their heads until at 9 pm, my mother's phone rang. Rainey was calling to ask if they had seen me. It hadn't crossed their mind that they hadn't seen their daughter all day, so as my mother trudged up the stairs, assuring Rainey that I was fine, she hadn't been worrying. The panic set in when my poor mom saw I wasn't in my bed, and my phone was still plugged in and sitting on the edge of my desk. Her heart rate increased as she saw my black pumps resting where I had kicked them off when I arrived home: only getting worse as she saw my curtains fluttering faintly as the wind blew softly.      Waking up was strange. I was sitting in a wooden dining chair held in place by thick, scratchy rope in a dark room. I kept asking myself: "Where was I? Why was I in this place? How did I get here? Would my head stop pounding?" I was trying to make sense of it all when the door creaked open. The light that spilled in revealed my captor's identity, and my first response, which I would come to regret, was laughter. For this, I earned a hard slap to the face. That's when it clicked: This was not a joke. I did not sleep with this man willfully in my drunken state, and he had not tied me to the chair for a laugh.     "W-why?" I stammered. The small nondescript question was all I could manage with my lips quivering like they were.     "I saw what I wanted and took it." He stated matter of factly. He was very arrogant, to the point that it would have made my blood boil if I wasn't so frightened.     Before he untied me, he laid down the rules: do not attempt to escape, do not be defiant, and do not, under any circumstance, question his orders.     I was petrified, so even though my first instinct was to run, I sat right where I was when the rope dropped from around my body. My captor watched as I rubbed my wrists as the blood flowed back into my fingers. His voice brought me back to earth.     "What is your name?" it seemed like a question, but I knew it was a demand.      "Casey."      "Nice to meet you, Casey," he said as he held out his hand to me. "My name is Axel." His name suited him. It was unusual and, to be honest, sexy, much like him. He had bright blue eyes and medium-length dark hair. He was wearing a tight, black v-neck shirt that boasted his athletic build; dark, straight-legged jeans; and combat boots that made him seem way taller than 6'4.     "You look kinda sexy when you undress me with your eyes." He interrupted my train of thought. "You'll look even sexier in your uniform."     He led me to a bathroom on the first level of his large suburban home and handed me a tiny maid's uniform that looked like it jumped straight off a fetish website. I savored my shower; I didn't know when I'd get another. I pulled the slinky dress on, tugging at the hem to get the tiniest amount of coverage.      As I stepped out of the bathroom, I saw the look on his face. He was f*****g me with his eyes, and it made me even more uncomfortable and scared. Suddenly, his expression changed to concern. "Casey, I would never force myself on you," he said as if he could read my thoughts. " I took you with me because I couldn't bear not having you with me any longer. Ever since you caught my eye, my mind hasn't been rid of you."