Bound

Chapter Five

He carried the suitcase into the inn.  Bypassing the front desk he moved silently up the stairs to his room.   Keying the lock he stepped inside, switching on the lamp by the table.   Pulling the curtains closed he secured the door behind him and placed the case on the bed.

The tools of his specific trade shone up at him as he opened the suitcase.   Plenty to get started with, whenever he chose the time to do so.  Taking a long length of rope from his treasure trove he closed his eyes, imagining the first moment, the moment Brianna would realize something was terribly, terribly wrong.  

Brianna.....he sighed her name.  Pretty in an understated way, it was her demeanor that drew him.   Subservient already, in his mind, the true ideal.  He would have his Angel of the Darkness , as was he not the true Phantom of the Night?   Grinning, he put the rope back and closed the suitcase.  The time was drawing near and with it his anticipation.   Soon....soon she would be on her way, with him, to his remote home up the coast.   The home he had yet to bring a single one of his possibilities.  

Turning on the television he darkened the room and relaxed, his mind blocks away on his quarry.....

Brianna woke with a start in the night, heart hammering.   She had been having an awful dream.  A dream of nightmares, fears and terrors.   Unseen in the mist of her dream had stood a figure, darkly shrouded by the night and beckoning her.  Shaking in the dark, she fumbled for the bedside lamp, switching it on.   The room plunged into light as she drew in breath.   She rose from her bed and peered outside into the darkness.   The moon rose over the ocean and the waves played with the shore, dancing upon it.  

Her eyes scanned the dark, unseeing.   What was she thinking?  She had felt off and out of sorts since her impromptu car ride that afternoon.  Unable to settle she double checked the locks on her doors and went to the kitchen to heat a mug of tea.  

She thought about the past two days, about the dark stranger and shivered.  For as fetching as he was, there was something just off about him.  After all, what could he possibly be thinking?  She was no great beauty, no educated linguist.  Just a waitress trying to make ends meet.  But again his voice filled her memory, the way he'd said Brianna, as if it was the most important name in the world.  

Sipping her tea she turned on the television, only to find a news story of the latest missing girl.  Disturbed she switched it off, pacing the room.  To be honest, she thought, she was probably discontented because this was the first real man who ever showed her any attention.  Boys from school just didn't count.  Why though.  Why her?  She moved to the coffee table where she'd tucked his card.  Gareth Viscardi.  What an unusual name, for an unusual man.   Perhaps she'd see him again, but she certainly would not call him.   Never a forward girl, she chose to wait and see.

Putting her cup in the sink she returned to bed, to toss and dream of dark eyes and a killer smile.