Caged Temptress | 18+

abduct (verb): take (someone) away by force or deception; kidnap.

EVA PETROV

The sound of the lock clicking echoes painfully loud after the door shuts behind him. It locks from the outside.

He leans his back against the locked door, arms crossed as he studies me and not saying a word. I'm certain that this is the man I saw kill someone in the middle of a dark alley earlier. He is wearing street clothes and the blood that was splattered across his face before is long gone.

I look over his face and note every detail under the bright interrogation room lights.

The same scar wraps the bridge of his nose as if it has been broken and reset more than a few times. The same letters above his left brow form a word in a language I don't know. There are more tattoos that weren't available to my eyes before. I study the side of his neck and hands, memorizing the identifying characteristics. The silver rings on his fingers don't have any unique distinctions that might tell me something about him, but they are expensive.

He can't be older than thirty-five and is over six feet. If he was a detective, he wouldn't be able to afford designer jewelry.

No.

I can't make assumption on anyone's background.

He had to have been undercover. That is the only way to explain the clothes and there is no other explanation for him being in this room right now.

No.

My thoughts are flowing as clearly as I would like. I missed an important detail. Possibly the most important.

The heavy policeman's jacket falls off my shoulders when the pieces fall into place as I stand up to create some distance between us. Thomas Baldwin was unarmed and not a threat. In fact, he could barely fight back. I want to ask him to identify himself for his name and rank to prove that my conclusion is incorrect, but my brain screams at me to stay silent.

The silence in the room scares me more than anything else right now. His cold blue eyes look over my shivering body, lingering over my breasts and exposed legs. Disgust builds in the pit of my stomach as his eyes meet mine again. I instinctively look up to the camera in the corner of the room as see that the glowing red light from behind the lens is no longer there.

Something is extremely wrong.

My habit of overthinking often causes me to land at a premature conclusion after dismissing details I deem unimportant.

In short, I'm not good at making quick deductions.

"Are you with the police?" I ask the pointless question, struggling to keep my voice steady. If he was, he would've identified himself the moment he stepped in here. He doesn't say a word and tilts his head, looking almost bored. The officers locked this man inside with me so I dont' let myself foolishly think that they haven't already told him everything I told them.

"I saw you kill that man. Thomas Baldwin," I state trying not to stutter from the pure fear clogged in my throat. "I saw you beat him up and shoot him."

The man's face lights up like I've finally done something worthwhile. Amusement fills his eyes, making me take a step back as he steps forward. The look on his face turns maniacal as he sees my reaction. He makes a quick movement like he's testing my knee-jerk response and it makes me abandon my phone to grab the metal chain that I was previously sitting on. I point the legs of the chair towards him, knowing that's the only thing I can use to defend myself.