Fight Like A Girl: An Opposites Attract Romance (Fighting For Love) Harley Reid (top 100 books of all time checklist TXT) 📖

Noise echoes around the room, making it difficult to tell which direction it’s coming from but as I glance to my left a shadowy figure emerges from the darkness.

The figure moves towards me in silence but stops before I can make out who it is.

Tightness grips my chest, as though someone is trying to squeeze all the air out of my lungs.

I gasp for breath. Waiting for something to happen — nothing.

“Hello,” I whisper, trying to mask the fear in my voice. I’m an anxious mess but I don’t want them to know that.

I lift my gaze, willing my eye to focus. “What…what do you want from me?” I stutter.

He takes a step closer, mumbling under his breath.

“Please let me go. I promise I won’t tell anyone about this. I don’t even know what you look like.” In a matter of seconds every chance of not showing weakness has disappeared. I just want to go home. “My boyfriend will be worried.”

“Does your boyfriend know that you had breakfast with another man this morning?” A deep voice yells from across the room. How does he know where I was this morning? Why does his voice sound so familiar? Why does he even care? “I thought you were different, but you’re just like her.”

Who is he talking about?

Before I can ask, he’s gone, and once again I’m alone.

I need to figure out how to get out of here before it’s too late.

Manoeuvring my head so that I can gather some of my t-shirt material into my mouth, I bite down and try to pull my wrists apart, hoping that my strength will be enough to snap them but it’s no use. The pain is overwhelming.

I feel around on the floor, looking for something sharp that will help me saw through the restraints but there’s nothing.

I need to find another way.

Then I remember some of the self-defence training that I did with Ethan. He taught me how to apply downward force against someone’s arms when they grab you and the momentum should be enough to break their grip. Without thinking, I sit up as straight as I can, raising my arms above my head. I swing down as fast as I can, drawing my elbows back as I hit myself in the stomach.

It worked! The pain is excruciating but my swollen wrists are free. I can worry about the pain later once I’m safe.

I place my hands on the ground and slowly push myself to my feet as I steady myself against the wall.

Listening for any sign of footsteps above, I head in the direction of the stairs, stumbling and bumping into things as I go. When I get to the bottom of the stairs, I hear faint murmuring from the other side of the door.

He’s coming back.

Knowing that I have the element of surprise, I move myself underneath the worn slated staircase, hoping that once he enters the room I can get out before he realises. The tickle of a hanging spider web brushes against my face as I wait for him to come down the stairs so I can sneak out behind him.

Waiting until he is a couple of metres away from the bottom of the stairs, I make my move, stumbling as I get halfway up the stairs. I glance back to see him heading in my direction, clambering up the stairs as fast as I can.

His hand grabs my ankle, yanking me back down the stairs. I grab on to the slats of the stairs, praying that they are strong enough to stop me being dragged back down into the darkness. There’s a crack of light ahead and I only need to make it up a few more steps before I’m in the main house.

I kick frantically with my free leg, trying my best to get him away from me and finally, his grasp loosens.

I glance back to see him in a heap at the bottom of the stairs.

Closing the door to the basement behind me, I look around the kitchen and then move into the living room — honestly, it’s not much of an improvement. The furniture is mismatched and ugly, the small windows look like they haven’t been cleaned for years and are accompanied by dead flies scattered across the sills. It’s like something out of a horror film.

Crossing the living room, I find myself in the hallway. I try the front door, but it doesn’t open. He must have locked it.

Scouring the hallway for the key to my safety, I pull out the drawers, rifling through all the papers and junk, my hands still trembling but there’s nothing. Then just as I’m about the bang on the windows to try to attract the attention of passers-by, a hand snakes around my body, another covering my face with some sort of rag.

As I breath in the sweet scent with a hint of nail varnish remover my head starts spinning.

I try to get away, but my limbs are too heavy to move. My body goes limp as I’m lowered to the floor, finally getting a glimpse of my kidnapper.

“It’s you…” I croak, as everything fades to black.

Half an hour has passed since I spoke to Mia. She should be home by now. Has she gone to Africa to pick the beans herself?

I’ve never been a patient man and the only reason I agreed to let Maddie go on holiday with her friend and their family was so I could have a couple of days alone with her, but I can’t shake the worry that is gradually taking hold of me. It’s the same feeling I get when I’m about to set foot in the octagon against an opponent I know will be a challenge. What can go wrong, she’s only going to the coffee shop down the road? I remind myself.

To distract myself, I put on a video game and start playing, hoping to hear