Control: Copyright © 2020 by Jessa James
All Rights Reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electrical, digital or mechanical including but not limited to photocopying, recording, scanning or by any type of data storage and retrieval system without express, written permission from the author.
Published by Jessa James
James, Jessa
Control
Cover design copyright 2020 by Jessa James, Author
Images/Photo Credit: Deposit photos: Yafimik; SSilver
Publisher’s Note:
This book was written for an adult audience. The book may contain explicit sexual content. Sexual activities included in this book are strictly fantasies intended for adults and any activities or risks taken by fictional characters within the story are neither endorsed nor encouraged by the author or publisher.
This book has been previously published.
Contents
1. Katherine
2. Katherine
3. Arsen
4. Katherine
5. Katherine
6. Katherine
7. Katherine
8. Arsen
9. Katherine
10. Katherine
11. Arsen
12. Arsen
13. Katherine
14. Katherine
15. Katherine
16. Katherine
17. Katherine
18. Katherine
19. Arsen
20. Katherine
21. Arsen
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1
Katherine
I sprint as fast as I can, away from the cops that are pursuing me. Toward what, I don’t know. Running towards the two sagging warehouses, placed side by side.
My heartbeat sounds thunderous in my own ears.
Ka-thump.
My muscles are moving me forward, but my arms and legs protest with every step.
Ka-thump.
My mind races, trying to put together a puzzle for which I don’t have all of the pieces. There’s not a lot of coherent thought going on, just a bunch of reacting based on pure instinct.
Ka-thump.
I reach the bottleneck, where the two warehouses eclipse me. My movement is hidden from anyone behind me. I run through the narrow gap, continuing to the right. I see a partially open door just twenty yards ahead of me. My lungs are screaming for me to stop now, so I sprint to the door, ducking inside.
As soon as I get inside, I miss the dusky light. In here, it’s dark and dank and moldy, and my eyes take a moment to adjust. The warehouse is full of old crates and boxes, stacked four times as tall as I am.
I need to move. Standing here like this, I’m a sitting duck. Three avenues open up between the boxes, forcing me to decide which one to take. I choose the left, moving as quickly and quietly as possible down the row of boxes that tower overhead.
There are some paths created by the boxes, here and there where a stack randomly ends and there is a gap before the next begins. I soon see that there are not just the three avenues, but actually a whole network of corollary pathways.
Darting right, off the main path, I work my way through the maze. As I go, I have to slow down because the paths that I travel are getting smaller and smaller, nearly trapping me amongst the towering boxes.
I start to get the same claustrophobic feeling that I felt earlier in the SUV begin to rise. If I die in here, the cops could just leave my body among the boxes and no one would probably even notice.
That is assuming that anyone would even look for me.
Based on the fact that my closest brother, Tony, just sold me to the cops who are pursuing me now, I seriously doubt that.
I clutch at my chest and refuse to let these thoughts settle in my mind. Not when there is so much else at stake.
I reach what seems to be the center of the maze, and realize the main problem with being among the boxes. There isn’t anywhere to hide here.
I stop, looking at the heavy cardboard box to my right, examining it for a way in. I find a seam, tracing it around the box with my fingers. But I would have to break into the box to get inside.
I glance up at the towering stack of boxes above it, biting my lip. There is no way of knowing that the box at the bottom wouldn’t collapse, trapping me inside. And that’s only if I managed to get inside, without any tools to help.