The Auction House Deal: Bought by A Billionaire

I looked ahead. With my mouth taped shut and my hands bound in front of me, there wasn’t much I could do. In my fury, I started banging on the door with my feet, trying to push it open.

"I wouldn’t do that if I were you," came a voice from the driver. "We’re on a highway now. Don’t want to go flying out of a moving vehicle, do you?"

I didn’t disagree it would be dangerous. However, I didn’t stop.

"Hannah. Hannah," the driver swerved. "I didn’t want to do this, but..."

He turned off of an exit and sped into a parking lot. I thought that would be my chance to fight back.

The kidnapper hopped out of the car, still dressed in all black including the ski mask and jogged around to the trunk. I turned my head to see what he was doing, but couldn’t be sure. When he closed the trunk, I could see him holding some sort of rag. He opened the door and shoved the rag in my face.

I turned my head, trying to get away, not wanting to succumb to whatever it was that was happening. The man was too strong for me, however, and he successfully thrust the rag under my nose, causing me to pass out.

The next thing I knew, I woke up in a hazy cloud.

I tried to adjust my eyes, but all I could see were shady blobs at first. My head felt woozy, much worse than a bad hangover, and my body was stiff as if I’d endured an intense power lifting session at the gym and hadn’t stretched, becoming inflexible and sore.

When I finally was able to make out my surroundings, I sat up. I was in some kind of hotel room with two beds and a desk. On top of one of the beds was where the kidnapper must have left me, wearing the same clothes from the night before.

I looked down at my body. The wrist restraints were gone. Only my shoes were missing.

I scanned the room. I couldn’t make out anything unusual, except that there was nothing there - no luggage, no weapons, no kidnapper. Just a messed-up bed beside me and the one I had been sleeping on.

Why had the kidnapper left me here alone? And without restraints?

Rushing to the door, I hoped it had all been a dream or a bad nightmare. Maybe I had hallucinated and Roman had brought me there to hide from a stalker. Whatever had caused me to pass out made the thoughts swirl in my head.

Not thinking straight, I headed to the bathroom to relieve myself. Afterward, I looked in the mirror. There were no bruises, no new scars. I looked okay except for the sleepy eyes and my tangled hair.

I splashed water on my face, hoping it would help me think straight. Where was the kidnapper? Was my abduction even real?

Then I made the connection - no tethers meant I was free to go.

I ran to the door and pulled on it. It was locked. I tried again, pulling harder. The door wouldn’t budge.

I thought that was strange. Everyone knew hotel doors could always be unlocked from the inside, but I couldn’t find a way.

I was trapped.

I glanced around for a key. While I didn’t see anything that resembled a key or a way to open the door, I did notice a piece of paper by the TV. Why hadn’t I seen it before? I shook my head, again trying to get my thoughts straight. What was I missing?

The note was written on a plain white piece of hotel stationery.

"Hannah,

If you are reading this, you’ve woken up. Sorry about putting you to sleep. It was for your own good. There is food and water in the mini-fridge and some comfortable clothes in the closet. Sorry I had to lock you in. I had some business to attend to. I will be back soon. Also, please don’t try to escape. It could be dangerous. I will explain when I get back.

Sincerely,

Your Helper"

My first thought was: who would kidnap somebody and then call themselves their helper? Signing the note "sincerely?" Was this guy for real? I had to read the letter twice.

My mind was starting to clear, and I opened the fridge to make sure it was indeed as the note said. Inside were some bottled waters, yogurts, cream cheese, oranges, strawberries, some beef sticks and a bunch of mini bagels. On the shelf next to the fridge were a box of crackers and packets of oatmeal.

At that moment, I wasn’t hungry.

Next, I checked the closet. My shoes from the previous evening were in there, along with a pair of flip-flops, two pair of soft leggings in a tie-dyed pattern, two solid-colored t-shirts, and a hoodie with a popular brand logo on the front in black.

"What am I? Twelve?" I said out loud about the clothing selection, taking it out and holding it up to my body. It was a little small and a bit childish.

My club clothes, though, were starting to feel dirty and nasty. I also thought a hot shower would feel great and hopefully clear my mind.

As I turned toward the shower, I saw the phone.

Duh! The phone! Why hadn’t I thought about trying to make a call? Picking up the phone, I listened to the receiver. There was no dial tone. I hung up and picked up the phone again. Nothing. I started pressing buttons. Still no sounds.

I pressed the keys harder, and once that didn’t work, I slammed the receiver down on the keypad.

"Sh*t," I said and flopped on the bed.

Where was my cell phone? I asked myself. Thinking about the night before, I remembered talking to Roman and then being snatched. Had the kidnapper taken my phone? Could it be in the room?

Suddenly, as if I had been quickly revived, I jumped off the bed and started searching every drawer. I looked under the beds and pillows, behind the curtains, and even paged through the Bible, looking for anything that could help me get out of the room. It made me think I really was like Alice in Wonderland like Roman said, gone down the rabbit hole and stuck in a room.

Once I had exhausted all options, frustrated, I headed to the shower.

Under the hot water, I thought about other possible options. Maybe the windows? I planned to check once I got dressed. The warm liquid on my skin revived me, and I regained hope I might be able to escape. If there was a way out, I was resigned to finding it.

I toweled off and put on one of the pairs of leggings along with the t-shirt. Because my hair was wet, I felt a little chilly and also donned the hoodie for warmth.

At the window, I looked down. There was a busy street below and no chance anyone would see me from the height I was at. I calculated I was stuck on at least the tenth floor.

Pressing on the window, I didn’t see a way to open it, figuring that windows on such high floors were kept sealed shut for a reason.

I let out a big sigh. How had I gotten there? Carrying an unconscious woman up to a hotel room was clearly not the norm, surely?

I heard a sound in the hallway outside the room, and I scrambled to press my ear to the door. It sounded like someone was out there. I began banging on the door and screaming, hoping someone would hear me and get help. Maybe it was the cleaning crew, and they could open the door.

Each time I banged my fist on the door, it echoed. I continued doing that for what seemed like an hour, but the clock told me it was ten minutes before I got tired.

My hands were red and my voice hoarse. The noises outside had disappeared, and I sunk down.

I’d exhausted all of my possible get-away options.

Crying, I pressed myself face down on the bed. I should have listened to Lauren and been more careful.

My sobs heaved into the mattress, soaking the comforter. Once the tears flowed, I couldn’t stop. I pounded my fists on the mattress, my sobs so violent by that point I could hardly breathe. After banging on the door and then my emotional outburst, I was spent.

I let my body sink into the mattress. I had tried everything I could think of. Hopefully, Roman was out there looking for me and found a clue. I trusted him, and knew he wouldn’t give up easily. If I couldn’t get out, he’d have to get in.

There was nothing else to do but wait.