Hunting Fear

Sssshhhh. Be very quiet," he said.

It was almost impossible, but he managed not to groan or moan or make any other sound behind the duct tape covering his mouth. The blindfold kept him from seeing anything, but he had seen all he'd had to before the blindfold had been tied in place: his abductor had a very big gun and he clearly knew how to handle it.

His instincts were screaming at him to struggle, fight, run if he could.

He couldn't. The time for even attempting escape, if there had ever been one, was past. His wrists were duct-taped together, like his ankles. If he so much as tried to get up from the chair where he'd been placed, he would fall on his face or on his ass.

He was helpless. That was the worst of it. Not the fear of what might be done to him, but the realization that he couldn't do a goddamned thing to stop it.

He should have paid attention to the warning, he was sure of that much. Even if it had sounded like bullshit, he really should have paid attention.

"I'm not going to hurt you," his abductor said.

He unconsciously tipped his head a bit to one side, his agile mind noting the slight emphasis on the first word. He wasn't going to hurt him What did that mean ' that someone else would

"Don't try to figure it out." The voice was amused now but still careless as it had been from the beginning.

Mitchell Callahan was no fool; he'd weighed far too many powerful men over the years to be deceived by a quiet voice and seemingly negligent manner. The more ostensibly indifferent a man seemed to be, the more likely he was to blow your balls off, metaphorically.

Or literally.

I can't even reason with the son of a bitch.

It was truly Callahan's idea of hell, being helpless and unable to talk his way out of it.

"I'm sure your wife will pay the ransom, and then you can go home."

Callahan wondered if the duct tape and blindfold hid his reflexive grimace. His wife His wife, who was on the verge of filing for divorce because she had arrived at his office unexpectedly after hours to find him screwing his secretary on his desk

Oh, yeah, she really wanted him back. She was undoubtedly just eager as hell to pay major bucks to save her husband's cheating ass.

"Don't worry; I asked for a reasonable ransom. Your wife can get her hands on it easily, I imagine."

Callahan couldn't stop the strangled sound that escaped him, then felt his face get hot with furious embarrassment when his captor laughed.

"Of course, she may not want to, when that private investigator she's hired discovers that your secretary is only the latest in a long line of women you've enjoyed. You really don't know how to keep your fly zipped, do you, Mitchell And she's such a nice lady, your wife. She deserves better. You really should have been a good and respectful husband to her. It's not all about being a successful breadwinner, you know. And, after all, why does the world need another cookie-cutter subdivision ruining the view up here "

Callahan felt a sudden chill. His captor was talking too much. Why give his victim a chance to memorize the sound of his voice Why betray so much knowledge of Callahan's life, his business

Unless you know he'll never get the chance to tell anyone