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What if they were the sex slave type? I started hyperventilating, imagining the life I was going to have to lead from now on, and without realizing it I started crying. He threw me on the couch and I fell bouncing sideways, causing Salem to come out and utter my tears. He liked salt. I thought maybe he was just going to rob me and now that he had seen it he would have to kill me. Who would expect someone to be in my house on Valentine's Day? If he killed me, who would take care of Salem? Rob? I started thinking about Rob my brother. Without me I would have no one to call every day in the afternoon, nor would I have a cook on weekends

Before I could begin to beg for my life, my abductor shoved something into my mouth. Poison. My eyes widened and I began to shake until an unexpected taste began to flow through my mouth. Could be...? It was...? I had scooped ice cream into myself. I stared at him without understanding anything.

- You are a very annoying cutie. I'm not going to let you go because if you kick me out, it's dangerous for me as well as for you, do you understand? You also talk too much. I'll feed you your damn ice cream and we'll watch whatever movie you want. It's only tonight. I'll watch over you and tomorrow when you wake up I won't be there. It will be as if none of this has happened.

I nodded enthusiastically. Suddenly the entire castle of terror and suffering that he had raised in the air had evaporated. I was going to be free and nothing was going to happen to me. On the other hand, this man only inspired me with hatred. Even his voice gave me courage. How was that possible? If at that moment I could have, I would have killed him. I did not know if it was his physique, his voice, or his way of being, but I was touching my nerve fiber and I was getting out of my way, when I've always been a very reasonable and quiet girl. I used to like everyone, but with him, my brain had made a big exception.

He hit the movie, and all my thoughts about hate were forgotten. Channing Tatum occupied every corner of my mind and left no room for the idiot who gave me chocolate to keep me quiet. When the ice cream was gone, he put the spoon in my mouth, as if it were a lollipop, and gradually fell asleep.

I woke up with pain in my back and arms. She was lying on the floor, or the table, or some very flat but warm surface. It had to be on the floor because the carpet was working fine. Salem had to be on my back because I could feel his little body in the lower part of my back. Although everything hurt, I was comfortable. The carpet smelled great and was soft. I rubbed my cheeks for her and sighed. I had never noticed its texture. He had to sleep more often on the floor. I was about to fall asleep again when Salem pulled me closer to the carpet, or what I thought was my cat. I blinked in confusion and found myself staring at the idiot's neck. Neck? I looked down at the rug and realized it wasn't the rug, but her bandaged chest. I looked back and saw that it wasn't Salem, but his hand resting almost on my ass.

He was wearing his shirt. I could feel how the dried blood had stuck it closer to my body. The pants had gotten tangled in his legs because they were too big for me. A beautiful postcard to send to the whole family at Christmas. Me about my kidnapper who was supposed to have left. I wanted to wake him up and yell at him, but I was too comfortable about him and this was the closest thing to Valentine's Day I was going to have. I closed my eyes and allowed myself to imagine that he was nice and that he loved me.

I woke up again in the same position, only I was hearing him speak very softly as if trying not to wake me up. Afternoon. I had woken up. I scrambled trying to get rid of him. Now I wanted a little privacy. Besides, he hadn't left. More anger began to come out of the volcano of my violence. A volcano that he was continually erupting and that was starting to bother me. He couldn't live with the anguish of wanting to beat him up. It was not healthy to suppress such intense feelings. Maybe I should unload some of my rage...

Before I could begin to beat him up, he had my face down against the couch and he was still talking on the phone as if I wasn't there trapped under his body in an awkward position. No. That did not matter to the murderous gentleman in the least and it also did not even affect him.

So sad! Even my captor laughed at me. What a life so unfair! ...

He closed the phone and looked at me amused. Now I was the center of attention and that was almost worse than before. I looked defiant but deep (and not so to the bottom) I was terrified. If he hadn't left, it meant he was going to sell me to a real slaver. Or maybe he uses me like a drug test. Or as a human shield ... I began to tremble with all the possibilities that crossed my mind (None good, of course) although I continued to maintain my "I don't give a shit" gesture. He shook his head and got up, leaving me sprawled there on the couch.

- Good morning, idiot. Why are you still at my house and why am I still handcuffed? - I tried to sit down, ending up on the floor on my knees after falling.

Sensual and agile … That was me.

- Good morning to you too cutie - He leaned casually against the wall. As casually as a model - I tried to go out, but my allies called and warned me that they were watching me and you were asleep, so I figured waking you up to tell you that was not a good idea. Then I ended up leaving me asleep - Said the latter if an iota of shame.

Useless.