Chapter 5

Emily Warner

“Okay can you at least tell me your name? You’ve been living here for a day now and you have been on that WRETCHED LAPTOP the entire time. See, I am tired and hungry, also I need to shower and change my clothes. Please!!” I yell as I look at him typing away on the laptop, paying me no heed.

This hot jerk.

“Well, you can call me Carter but that’s not my name and yes, you can shower. I won’t tell you my name because I am leaving soon and I don’t want to leave any traces or information. Yes, you can shower and change. I'll cook some food for us.” He says as he finally keeps my laptop aside after hours and heads towards me.

My breathing elevates as I gulp my saliva when this tall strong guy approaches me as I try to not look at his muscles that were prominent through his clothes. Thankfully, I had a few men’s clothing lying around, don’t ask me why.

Fine, I think they are very comfortable for some reason so I bought them.

He was wearing just a track and the large shirt that surprisingly fitted him perfectly.

I held back a gasp as he caught hold of my hand and un-cuffed me while maintaining a steady eye contact. His lips turned upwards at the sight of how wide my eyes were right now. I couldn’t stop the throbbing in my lower region. It was crazy, his touch was driving me crazy.

Emily! He is way out of your league.

Yeah, that’s the biggest problem. Not that he is an intruder, murderer kind of a person.

“So, I can just go and shower? You don’t want to keep an eye on me?” I ask him with furrowed eyebrows.

“Oh sweetheart, I got my eye on you.” He says before walking to the kitchen, leaving me completely confused.

Why is that voice so hot??

I just walk to my bedroom to take a shower, I see my phone lying there but I just head to the shower. For the first time in months, I can’t feel that unimaginably painful stab in my heart. I was too distracted to wallow in my own sadness right now.

I know this might not be my brightest moment but anything seems better to me right now then wallowing in my own sadness.

“Hey, this is not fair, I can be a dangerous hostage. You can’t treat me like I am not a threat, okay? It’s hurtful.” I say in an accusatory tone as I barge into the kitchen making him raise his eyebrows at my words.

“Emily, I am scared of you.” He says in a monotonous voice as he flips an omelet.

“You promise?”

“Yes. I will try to keep a better eye on you.” He says almost trying to hold back his laughter.

“I don’t think you mean it but thank you, I guess.” I say as I plop down on the chair in my kitchen.

“Here. And I poured you a glass of orange juice.” He says as he keeps a plate of the most delicious omelet in front of me. My stomach grumbles at the aroma that entered my nose.

This is the first time a man has made some food for me.

“What about you?” I mumble as I stuff my face with food. This is too good. I hope I can convince him to teach me this before he leaves. This is the least he could do.

“I am not hungry right now-" His voice is cut off as the bell echoes in my ear. My heartbeat increases as I try to figure out who it might be.