Moth to a Flame
Authors: K Webster
Moth to a Flame
Copyright © 2014 K. Webster
Cover Design: K. Webster
Photo: Shutterstock
Editor:
Mickey Reed
Formatting:
Champagne Formats
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. This book contains material protected under International and Federal Copyright Laws and Treaties. Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by an information and retrieval system without express written permission from the Author/Publisher.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Apartment 2B (A Standalone Paranormal Erotic Romance)
For my husband.
Somehow, through the darkest of times, we always find each other like a moth to a flame.
I COULDN’T BELIEVE Jessie left me at this party so she could go get a booty call from her on-again, off-again boyfriend. One minute, she hated him, and next, she could barely keep her clothes on long enough to get to her car. We had a pact and she’d broken it for the third time this semester, which was really starting to piss me off. Jessie was getting an earful when she came back to our room in the morning.
Now, I was stuck walking in the cold the several blocks to our dorm at two in the morning by myself.
Again.
My buzz was quickly fading as my attentiveness to the sounds around me took over. The wind lashed out, biting through my sweater, causing shivers to rake through me. Walking home at this time of night in the dark was extremely creepy. The only sound I could hear was the clicking of my Louboutins echoing off the houses on the gloomy street.
Click, click, click.
Every shadow seemed to be reaching its black talons toward me. My imagination would ultimately be the death of me.
Click, click, click.
Up ahead, I could finally see the white fence to the Alpha Delta Pi house, where Jessie and I dormed. Being that I was the president of our sorority, I was most definitely going to impose a new rule about leaving fellow sisters at parties alone. There would be stiff penalties for not complying. Jessie was getting the full wrath of Lia at tomorrow morning’s meeting.
What a bitch.
Click, click, click.
Just as I nearly reached the edge of the yard, the hairs on the back of my neck really began to prickle. I could sense someone watching me from the shadows. This time, I didn’t think it was my imagination. It felt as if they were touching me with their stares. Shit, I needed to hurry.
Click, click, click.
The clicking of my shoes intensified as I quickened my pace.
Click, click, click, click, click.
Just a few more feet until—
agh!
Pain thundered in my skull and darkness tore across my vision as confusion set in.
Did I faint or was I hit in the head by someone?
That was my last thought before fading into complete blackness.
Regaining consciousness, I suddenly snapped awake, confused at my situation. Someone was breathing heavily from exertion beside me. The scent of alcohol was nauseating. A blindfold of sorts was concealing my vision.
Shit, I can’t see anything!
Attempting to snatch off the covering from my eyes, I realized that my hands were bound tight behind my back. The scream that was building in my throat was instantly snuffed out due to the tape covering my mouth. My breaths were coming fast and ragged through my nose, moistening the tape over my lips. Terrified at my situation, I immediately started to whimper and squirm.
When a cold, strong hand settled on my upper thigh and gave it a tight squeeze, I recoiled in fear. His grip on my thigh became more forceful, pulling me back toward him, making me realize that at least my legs weren’t bound. Had I worn a skirt instead of jeans, his fingernails would have drawn blood instead of just bruising me. Tears rolled down my face as my muffled, terrified moans pleaded with my abductor.
Where am I?
Did someone seriously kidnap me?
What is he going to do to me?
His death grip on my thigh was alleviated when he pulled it away, sending a wave of relief over me. We were moving, so we must be in the captor’s car. My body was pressed into the seat as we accelerated—probably to merge onto the highway near the college. My heart started racing quickly as I considered my immediate future.
Where the fuck is he taking me?
As I tried to take stock of my surroundings, I determined that I must have been sitting up front with the creep who took me since he was able to grab my thigh so easily while driving. His silence was deafening and frightening as hell. The hum of the motor was background to my sniffling and whimpering.
Why isn’t he saying anything?
Overwhelmed with the stress of my circumstances, I thought about my mother in an effort to escape this mental mindfuck, even if momentarily. My mom always said that I was made of the tough stuff—though I felt far from tough at the moment. She’s a gentle, free spirit. When she met my stepdad, Rich, a couple of years ago at a convention in Vegas, their connection had been instant. She’d dropped her life in Texas to travel with him as his assistant. When she fell madly in love with him, I was a little hurt at how easily she could love someone other than my dad. It had rocked my world when my dad died of cancer when I was just ten. But even though I was ready to hate Rich, I couldn’t help but love him too. He had that charming way about him. Rich was a good guy who took care of my mom and me. Mom always said that I had my dad’s personality—that I was fearless and born to lead those around me. I didn’t feel fearless at the moment.
