The taxi ride had consisted of Nolan's hands all over Scarlett. She bit her lip hard in response because she didn't want to cave in just yet, not until they were at least back at his place and would try her best to pry his fingers off. The cab stopped in front of a large, towering building and Scarlett peered at it through the dark glass.

They were in Brooklyn.

Nolan mumbled a few words to the cab driver and threw a few bills onto the passenger side. Opening his door, he pulled at Scarlett's hand, and she followed in response. As soon as she stepped outside, Scarlett noticed that it was drizzling— the soft rain barely stained her cheeks and coated her hair.

The elevator ride to the apartment was silent, with Nolan just teasing at the skin of her thigh and her slapping his hand away.

As they stepped out of the elevator, Nolan led her down the hallway and to the last apartment on the left. His keys jingled in the lock and in that time, Scarlett took it as the opportunity to glance around. She took in all the features of the hallway; the grey, laminate floors, the wide window at the end giving a view of the city and the burnt orange door of Nolan's apartment.

As the door swung open, Scarlett was slightly impressed with the condition of it. He had stainless steel appliances in the kitchen, with white marble countertops and matching cabinets. The rest of the apartment had more of an industrial look as the overhead vents were exposed against the high ceilings and the floor was the similar grey laminate she had seen earlier.

She would've loved to live here if she could afford it.

"My bedroom's on the left, make yourself comfortable, babe."

Scarlett nodded her head in response and made her way down, her fingers skimming across the white walls of the apartment. As she reached the last door, she opened it and was greeted with a queen-sized bed draped in black, silk sheets. She traced the cold fabric underneath her fingers and gave him a nod for his choice.

"Strip."

Scarlett nearly jumped out of her skin when she heard his voice suddenly. Turning around, she saw him leaning against the doorframe and this time, he was only wearing sweatpants that hung low at his waist.

Before she could say another word, he spoke again.

"I said strip," his tone was more demanding than before.

Tilting her head to the side in the abrupt change in demeanor, Scarlett did as she was told. However, through the process, she kept her eyes on him. She pulled the first strap off her right shoulder and then went the second. In a few seconds, she was standing in front of him with only her lingerie on.

"All of it."

She noticed that he wasn't smiling anymore, the way he was at the club or in the taxi. Instead, he appeared to be more strict; his shoulders were pushed back and his luscious lips were pressed together.

Scarlett unhooked her bra and removed her underwear, stepping out of it and kicking it to the side.

"On the bed."

Reminding herself to give him a show, Scarlett sauntered over towards the bed and leaned in, giving him a good view. She placed her left knee first and began to crawl onto the bed and sat up straight in the center, with her legs nestled underneath her.

Nolan pushed himself off the doorframe and moved in closer, he reached for something in his pocket and it wasn't long before Scarlett realized that he was waving a pair of handcuffs in her face.

"We're going to play a game," he stated.

Scarlett felt her heart rate quicken inside of her; something about the way he said that made her uneasy. She bit on her lip and watched as he lifted up her right hand and fixed the handcuff to it.

"What, what kind of game?" she nervously asked, her eyes darting between him and the bedroom door.

With a sudden click, he had locked her right hand to the bedpost. Scarlett swallowed hard and panic began to invade her senses. This wasn't right, she didn't think he was into this kind of stuff— not that she found anything wrong with it, it just wasn't her.

He stood up straight and pulled out another handcuff that was hiding in his left pocket. Leaning in, his lips brushed against her cheek softly and he had then cuffed her left hand to the other bedpost.

"It's a little game I liked to call the Survival Game— you're going to stay here, as long as I want you too, that could be minutes, hours, days."

Scarlett's mouth ran dry.

"And I get to do whatever I like to you."

Before she could respond, Nolan opened the door to his closet. Hung on numerous hooks were ropes, wires, masks and many other toys that Scarlett had never seen in her life that she knew was for his twisted pleasure. Her heart pounded in her chest as she realized that this was not what she had anticipated.

This wasn't how things were supposed to go.

"And there's nothing you can do about it."

As soon as the words left his mouth, a beep was heard from the kitchen. Nolan turned his gaze away from her and to the door, most likely realizing where it had come from.

"I'll be right back."

The minute he had stepped out of the room, Scarlett's senses went into overdrive. Her breathing quickened as she glanced around the room to see what could help her escape. She hadn't noticed when she had walked in that the white walls were bare— not a single piece of artwork or picture was placed anywhere.

She darted her eyes to her hands and knew that was her only way out.

She knew how to escape out of handcuffs, why hadn't she realized that earlier. It was something she had practiced before, albeit it had been over a year ago, it was a self-defense class she had taken.

Luckily for her, he hadn't tightened the hold as she thought he would have. She tucked her right thumb in as far as she could and began to scrape her hand out, the handcuff slightly tearing at her flesh. She ignored the hints of pain that surged there and almost cried in relief when her hand was freed.

Quickly maneuvering over to the other side, she did the same with her left hand, but this time, she merely rolled the handcuff off the top of the bedpost. Taking in shallow breathes, she leaped off the bed and hid behind the wall. She grabbed her forgotten dress and threw it on, tearing at some of the fabric without realizing. Peering over the corner, she ensured that the hallway was empty before she made her move.

She tip-toed, hoping that her steps were silent.

She could hear his voice from the kitchen and she ran a hand through her messy curls— she hadn't noticed that her mascara had started to run as well from the unexpected tears that had formed when she was freeing her hands.

"Don't worry Elijah, I'll handle the accounts, I'll call you later, I'm busy at the moment."

Scarlett scanned the room to see where the nearest exit was and all she could see was the balcony. She knew that these Brooklyn buildings had fire escapes and that was her way out. She watched as he made her way to the fridge in the kitchen before she bolted.

"Where do you think you're going, you stupid bitch."

It wasn't long before Scarlett felt him rip at her hair. She was instantly shoveled back and found herself slamming against his body. He spun her around and wrapped his hands around her throat, her breathing becoming more ragged than ever before.

Those same piercing chocolate brown eyes stared into hers but this time, there was something different hidden behind them.

As Scarlett fought to breathe, her hand stretched itself out and tried to grasp onto anything that was nearby. Her fingers finally wrapped themselves around a vase that was placed on one of the small tables near the couch and she raised it high.

In an instant, she had smashed the glass vase across his head and watched as his grip loosened around her throat. He fell to the ground, his knees hitting the floor first. He gazed up at her one last time before blood pooled from his head and he fell face first.

He was knocked out.

—