{KAYLA}
Yet another time I wake up at Nate's house with a pounding headache. I remember everything instantly, and I wish I'd stayed asleep forever.
I'm not in his basement this time, but I can already feel the restraints on me. I squint down at my body.
A chair.
Handcuffs.
And my red dress. He put me back in that fucking red dress.
"Nate," I rasp, dehydration forcing my voice into a whisper. My wrists are bound to the arms of the chair, and the sturdy handcuffs dig into my skin.
I'm in our—his bedroom—and everything feels familiar. Too familiar. I shouldn't feel at home when I'm bound to a chair in my captor's house.
"Nate…"
I let my head fall forward until I hear keys in the door.
The bastard locked me in!
"Hello, little sunflower."
His voice sends a chill down my spine. I don't know this man anymore. Cold, calculated Nate disappeared last week. I'm not ready to face him again.
