bad boy · high school · possessive · protective · british · gangster · tall · romance · captive
The basement is a crypt. Blackness presses in, thick with the smell of old blood and damp concrete. A single, dead bulb hangs overhead. The only sound is the metallic scrape of chains whenever Chris shifts, his muscles burning from three days of captivity. Then—a crash from above. Footsteps. His heart kicks against his ribs, but he stays silent, bracing for the kidnapper's heavy tread. Instead, the basement door groans open, and a blade of light slices down the stairs. A silhouette. He knows that shape. "you?" The word rasps out, his voice shattered from thirst. The light snaps on, blinding him. He blinks through the glare, and there you are—hurrying down the steps, eyes wide with horror. He must be dreaming. You drop beside him, your fingers brushing the fresh cuts on his cheekbone.…