by Tammy Walsh
And there was definitely no door to an adjacent room.
This place wasn’t a hospital. I couldn’t fool myself into believing it was.
It was a prison.
And I was trapped.
“Hello?” I said out loud. “Is anybody there?”
I rapped on the wall with a knuckle to get someone—anyone’s—attention.
Someone had to be out there.
I hadn’t got there by accident. Someone put me in here.
“I think there’s been some mistake,” I said. “I don’t know what you want but I can get it for you. I’m a trained engineer. I can build whatever you need. Or fix things. I’m not supposed to be here. I’m supposed to be in New York. I have a job there. And a life. If you let me go, I would very much appreciate it.”
It didn’t hurt to be civil to my captors. At least, not at first.
But there was no response.
“I know you’re out there,” I said firmly. “If you let me go, I won’t tell anybody. I won’t do anything. I’ll forget this whole thing ever happened.”
Yeah, right. I’d be having nightmares about this place for the rest of my life. It wasn’t much different from being buried alive. The only difference was I had a little more elbow room.
I was greeted once more with silence.
Was I just talking to myself? Was I imagining this whole place? I didn’t think so. Alice was the one with the imagination. I just built things.
“Please!” I cried. “Let me go! Please! I swear I won’t tell anyone anything!”
No one would believe me anyway.
The silence was deafening.
If I had a little noise, a little music in the background to keep myself distracted the way I did back home, things wouldn’t seem so bad. The TV, radio, podcasts, anything to drown out the silence.
I hummed an inane tune. No rhythm, no lyrics—for the moment, they’d completely fled my brain and I couldn’t think of a single one.
I paced up and down. At least I could do that much. I could still exercise and stay in good shape. When the opportunity to escape presented itself, I’d be ready.
But without food, how long was I going to last?
I stopped pacing and peered around my room. Maybe I was missing something. It might be an elaborate escape room and I had to figure my way out of it using the most common objects.
The bed was the centerpiece of the entire room. I dropped to my hands and knees and checked under it. The entire frame stuck out from the wall. There were no legs or struts to keep it in place.
And no escape hatches or air vents underneath it either.
The dining table stuck out like a rasping tongue too. Surely it would break if I put enough weight on it? I hopped on it. It didn’t wobble and felt very sturdy.
Beyond it was a slight recess in the wall, about the size of a microwave. I stuck my hands in it and touched each of the sides. Nothing happened. Then I stuck my head in it and checked to make sure I hadn’t missed anything.
I hadn’t.
There were no hard edges or corners for me to grip or yank.
Then there were the other furnishings. A simple desk with two drawers in the front like buck teeth. I opened them. Something rattled in one of them.
Aha!
I scooped up the contents. It was a thin pad of notepaper and a red pen. I flicked through the notepad, hoping to find a clue to the next hint. There wasn’t a single mark on the paper. When I checked the pen, there was nothing unique about it. At least I could write or draw something.
But I wasn’t much in the mood for art.
“Is anybody there?” I said. “If you can hear me, just make a noise. Let me know you’re there. I don’t want to be alone in here. I don’t want to be here at all.”
If someone was there, they didn’t say a word.
I was trapped.
And I was alone.
Time passed slowly in that room. With no distractions, you felt the weight of every single second that passed. I managed to take a couple of short naps during the day but never for long.
Was this it? I wondered. Was this going to be my life until I starved to death? Living alone in this room with nothing to keep me entertained?
I rubbed the silk material of the negligee I wore between my fingers. At least I would be a sexy corpse.
Things would get better, I told myself. They had to. I couldn’t live forever in this little room. Alone.
I drifted to sleep again and dreamed fitfully. Nightmares took shape and haunted me.
And they weren’t only confined to my dreams.
I was about to meet them face to face.
I suffered from a recurring nightmare. I fell into a bottomless pit without end. I was starving hungry. As I sailed ever downward, food floated past me. I was always too slow to snatch it.
My stomach growled and it started me awake. I pressed a hand to my stomach. I needed food soon. I was very hungry.
I rolled onto my back and stared at the ceiling.
It was the middle of the night. The only way I could know that was because the lights had automatically dimmed. I hadn’t noticed earlier, but they must have gradually risen and fallen throughout the day.
So this was it. I was going to starve to death and that would be the end of me. No one would know I was here. No one would know I was dead. I would die here and I would rot. Then maybe those who put me in here would come for me.
And that’s when I had my plan.
I would pretend to suffer a heart attack or fall over and hit my head and just lay there. That way, they had to send someone in to check on me.
I’d have to make sure I fell over into a comfortable position. Maybe on the bed. I would lay there without moving a muscle.
But that meant they would have cameras. Were there any on me now?
I hadn’t seen any. I didn’t think so.
I shook my head. I was scraping the bottom of the barrel with my idea. I would do it, but only when I didn’t have any other option.
I wracked my brains for another solution but came up empty.
Agitated, I rolled onto my side with my eyes shut, trying to think through the situation.
There was always a way out. You just had to think harder.
I strained myself and…
Nope.
Nothing.
I was doomed to rot in this room alone.
I opened my eyes.
A pair of eyes stared back at me.
I flew back and fell out of bed. I landed on my ass but didn’t even register the pain that shot like lightning up my back.
I skidded along the floor until I ran into the wall. My eyes were bulbous and my breaths rasped shallowly in my throat. My heart beat faster than a rabbit’s. I stared at the lump in my bed.
But it wasn’t a lump.
It was a man.
He’s more than just a man.
He’s Chax, her fated mate.
Not that she knows that yet!
I hope you enjoyed this excerpt.
You can read the whole book at the link below!
CAGED BY THE ALIEN is in Kindle Unlimited and available to buy now.
Also by Tammy Walsh
CAGED BY THE ALIEN is the next book in this series. You can get it now on your Kindle!
Prefer to try one of my other romance series? Check out an updated list of all my series on my Amazon profile or my website.
About the Author
In space, no one can hear you scream...
And where’s the fun in that?
I've been reading romance and science fiction my whole life. I always wondered why those genres hadn’t been a mash-up years ago and now I'm super excited I get to combine them into a single steamy encounter!
Come with me as we journey through space and time… and the most gorgeous set of hunks this side of the galaxy!
I wrote the #1 bestselling FATED MATES OF THE TITAN EMPIRE series. I write science fiction romances set on far-flung planet
s and ships traveling at the speed of light.
Learn more about my books here. Find me on Facebook, Bookbub, and my website.
Sign up to receive my newsletter, where you’ll get exclusive access to every epilogue I ever write, stay updated with new releases, and more!
If you liked this book, please take a few minutes to leave a review! Authors (me included!) really appreciate it, and it helps draw more readers to books they might like. Thanks!
OWNED BY THE ALIEN
Book One in the Fated Mates of the Titan Empire series
by Tammy Walsh
Copyright © 2020 Tammy Walsh
Published by Urgency
All Rights Reserved
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the author except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.