So I may have only just finished The Promise, but this idea has been knocking around my head for a while so I'm going with it.

This is a darker story and Eric in particular is not the nice guy.

Sookie

I had become quite adept at faking orgasms in the fours years I'd been with Bill Compton.

And since I'd been doing it ever since Bill and I first got together, he had never known any different and never took the time to please me in other ways. I thanked the inventors of my much trusted pink rabbit on an almost twice weekly basis. I only wished I had the courage to cheat on him or leave him, but I was too much of a coward for that.

Bill, meanwhile, was jiggling and grunting on top of me as I made all the right sounds and wrapped my legs around his soft waist. His sweaty and quickly becoming podgy body was moving in shallow thrusts as he gave me his usual indication that he was close to coming. As customary, I increased my moans, dug my finger nails into his back and pretended to orgasm as he emptied his load into the condom I insisted he wore. You'd have thought he would have learned the routine after four years.

He rolled off me and snapped the condom off before throwing it in the waste paper bin beside our huge bed. I picked up my nail file from the bedside table and started carefully filing a snagged nail as I tried to ignore him. I only needed my nails to last another day before I was due to them done.

"Thank you, Sookie. You were incredible as always."

"So were you, Bill," I lied.

"Are you still planning on staying in the city for the weekend?" he asked as he rolled over to look at me.

I tried, whenever possible, to spend as much time in New York as I could. I had a gorgeous loft condo and I relished the freedom since Bill very rarely came with me. It was a chance for him to spend time with his mistresses anyway, so I was sure he looked forward to the time as much as I was.

"I am. You're okay with that?" I said in a sickening sweet voice.

"Of course, sweetheart, I want you to be happy." I hated it when he called me sweetheart. He kissed me on the cheek and shifted his overweight ass out of our bed and picked up his boxer shorts as he walked towards the bathroom, throwing them haphazardly at the laundry pile on his way. I pulled the sheets over me and picked up my phone, answering a few text messages about plans for later on in the day.

After showering Bill walked back into the bedroom, his dark and slightly greying hair being roughly dried by the towel he was holding, a further one wrapped around his midriff. "I probably won't see you then until Wednesday evening as I have a few meetings in Boston and I'm staying over." I knew that was code for 'I'm fucking Lorena again'. That was fine by me.

"Okay, honey."

I had never loved Bill. But he came from old money and where he satisfied my itch for the cash I desired, he had suitable arm candy in me. I'd managed to put off the baby making side of the deal so far, but I was aware that it was only so long before his parents started getting too pushy. Bill was forty years old, twelve years older than me, and I had been pretty much been set up by my parents to marry him since I was a young teenager. It was essentially an arranged marriage.

However, I had to admit to almost feeling sorry for Bill at times. He'd known and loved Lorena since he was eighteen years old, but since her social status wasn't up to his own he would never have been allowed to marry her without his parents disowning him and cutting off his inheritance. She had married someone else and had three children, but they'd continued to fuck each other the whole time. I thought at times that he suspected that I knew about him and Lorena, but if he did he never made it obvious. It was probably better that way.

I watched Bill out of the corner of my eye while he changed into his usual hideous brown suit that made him look ten years older than he actually was and he walked over to kiss me on the cheek.

"Have a good weekend, sweetheart."

"And you, Bill."

Once Bill was downstairs I got out of bed and showered thoroughly to wash Bill's sweat off me. After drying and styling my hair and applying just the right amount of make-up to look classy yet not slutty I walked into my closet to change into a short tan leather shirt, dark silk blouse and a pair chunky wedge sandals that made my tanned legs look incredible. I pulled out the matching clutch bag and headed downstairs for a much needed cup of coffee.

For all the complaints I did have about Bill, I loved the houses we lived in. Our summer residence was a huge eight bedroom, eight bath mansion on the Hamptons, with an infinity swimming pool and set in four acres of land. I loved the decadence of the place and the sheer size gave me the freedom I desired.

I walked into the huge kitchen and sat down at the counter. Our housekeeper Octavia handed me my coffee and a freshly toasted bagel. She was probably in her mid-fifties and had greying blonde hair that was tightly tied in a bun at the back of her head and piercing blue eyes. I could only imagine that she was quite beautiful in her youth.

"Thank you, Octavia."

"That is quite okay, Mrs Compton." I fucking hated being called Mrs Compton, but I grin and bared it not wanting Bill to find out quite how much I hated him. As far as I was concerned I was still Sookie Stackhouse. "You are heading into New York, that is correct?"

"Yes I am. I will be gone a few days, but I will be back for Sunday evening."

"I will let chef know."

Octavia had only been with us a few weeks but she was miles better than her predecessor. She was originally from Sweden or Finland or somewhere like that and had this really cute accent. She'd replaced our previous housekeeper who'd been with Bill for ten years, but we found out by pure good luck that she'd been stealing from him. Maudette had begged for our belief that she had been set up, but it was just a line and since the evidence was strong we had her sent down.

"Thank you. I am meeting some friends for lunch and then spending the weekend at my loft apartment."

I'd always wanted to go into interior design right from college and using a fake name I did just that. I had started putting my designs out there and had so far seemed to be doing quite well. I knew that Bill would hate it if he knew that I was working so I used the quiet and solitude of the Manhattan loft to escape his attentions.

"That sounds lovely dear. And you are meeting your friends in your usual spot?"

"Yes, it's all a bit Sex and the City right?" I said, laughing.

"I'm afraid that's the image I get!" Octavia laughed joyfully as she cleared the plate away and popped it into the dishwasher as soon as I'd finished my breakfast.

"I will see you on Sunday." I told her.

"Sure you will, Sookie."

She smiled sweetly at me and I gave her a quick hug before she resumed cleaning the kitchen and I picked up my purse and walked to the garage. I climbed into my silver Mercedes SLK and drove through the slow traffic into Manhattan where I parked in my underground spot and took the elevator up to my condo.

I checked my private email and messages on the unregistered mobile phone I used for work purposes, something Bill knew nothing about, and freshened up my make up before meeting my friends in our usual Friday lunchtime haunt.

I met Amelia and Claudine at the door as I was walking in and we were escorted to our usual table by an over-attentive waiter. I'd known both girls since college and the three of us had become close friends along with Isabel. Claudine was a humanitarian lawyer, but with annoyingly supermodel good looks, as she was nearly six foot tall and statuesque. She was the sort of girl I would hate if I wasn't already friends with her. Amelia was the same height as me with shoulder length chestnut hair and matching eyes. She was an incredibly successful realtor and loved the work she did.

After we'd ordered drinks, it was ten minutes later that Isabel pulled up. "Sorry I'm late. Stanley decided that he wanted to shit all over my bed and I had to change the sheets before I left." The Hispanic brunette sat down at the table and immediately picked up the menu. As if she would ever change from her usual. Stanley was her gorgeous pedigree Russian Blue cat that she'd bought six months before after her husband left her for an eighteen year old.

"At least Russell didn't shit all over your bed!" Amelia teased.

"No, he decided to shit in it when he cheated on me. Fucking bastard. I spoke to my lawyer yesterday and I'm going to take him to the cleaners. That man is seriously going to regret the day he fucked with me."

"Amen to that!" Amelia and Claudine clinked their glasses together.

"And then there's Sookie, whose incredibly wealthy husband is fucking god knows how many women including his bitch-ass ex-girlfriend, and yet she does nothing." Isabel's tone was somewhat hostile and she was looking intently at me while she indicated to a passing waiter to bring her a glass of merlot.

"She's right, Sook." Amelia said, "Bill's a fucking asshole and you should just leave him. It's not as if you love him or anything."

"It's not that simple." I had had this conversation many times with my friends but they could never understand my reasoning for staying with Bill.

"Sook, it really is. Just employ a private investigator to follow him to Boston, catch him in the act with Lorena and you've got your evidence." Claudine was tapping on her glass as she admonished me.

"Can you not accept that I'm quite happy with the arrangement I have?" I pleaded.

"No." All three women said at once.

"At least find some boy toy to play with if you're not getting any enjoyment out of Bill. I know quite a few that would worship the ground you walk on." I didn't doubt that Amelia probably did.

"Maybe, but if Bill ever found out I had cheated on him I'd be out on my ass without a penny from him." He had made me sign a prenuptial agreement that meant if I was caught cheating I would leave with nothing. Unfair as that was my parents had insisted on it and also told me that I would not gain my own inheritance if I wasn't married. My life was truly fucked. But at least I had my rabbit.

"So?" Claudine asked. "You're a talented woman, you don't need Bill's money or your parents to survive! And anyway at the very least there are hundreds if not thousands of hot and wealthy men in this town. Ditch Grandpa and find yourself a new one."

I had to admit to being severely tempted by what they were trying to convince me to do, and on more than one occasion I had started packing my bags, but never quite found the courage to go through with it. I had to admit to being a bit timid in that regard.

"Please can we change the subject?" I pleaded. "I'm not going to leave Bill and that's that."

Amelia rolled her eyes. "Fine, but for the record, you're an idiot."

"Duly noted."

We all ordered our lunch and I chose a grilled chicken salad with a side of onion rings for a treat that I split with Amelia. Isabel was telling us about an exhibition of nude photography she was having at the studio she owned, some of the photographs being quite graphic and verging on pornographic. She took great enjoyment in describing the photos in great detail, much to the distaste of the group of elderly ladies on the next table to us who were tutting at us and complaining to their waiter. It made the four of us laugh loudly and cuss more, much to their annoyance.

The lunches I had with Amelia, Claudine and Isabel were usually the high point of my week as I didn't get a huge amount of social interaction when I was home alone in the house in the Hamptons. The 'friends' that Bill and I had were not friends at all, and any conversations we had were shallow and frivolous. If I was honest, I preferred the time on my own.

After eating our lunches and chatting for hours we all stood to leave. Amelia and Claudine had been convinced by Isabel to go to her studio to get a closer look at the graphic photographs that she had. Since I had an appointment with a client I declined her invitation and hugged them all goodbye before popping to the ladies room.

I checked to see if there were any messages on my phone before working out a few tangles in my hair with my fingers and applying some lip gloss.

As I exited the ladies room I felt a strong pair of arms wrap around me and a cloth moving to my face. I tried to struggle but I was held in a vice like grip, my finger nails clawing at the clothed arms wrapped tightly around me. Remembering the self-defence training I'd leaned in college I threw my head back in an attempt to break the nose of my attacker.

However it seemed my attacker was too tall for such a trick to work and I was unsuccessful at incapacitating him. Apart from a curse in a language I didn't recognise, his grip remained solid and as I struggled for breath I was forced to breathe in the toxic chemical on the rag covering my mouth and nose.

It was then that everything went black.

.

.

I woke up with a thumping headache, but my whole body seemed to be in pain. I tried to take a deep breath but my mouth was seemingly taped shut. I instinctively tried to bring a hand to my face to remove the tape that was preventing me from breathing, but found that my wrists were tied uncomfortably tightly behind my back in rough rope. When I tried to move my legs I realised that my ankles too were tightly bound.

I was trying not to panic as I'd never been that good at just breathing through my nose, and tried to calm myself by taking some slow steady breaths.

At least I was not blindfolded.

I had no idea how long it had been since I was taken from the restaurant and gave a silent prayer that someone saw what happened and had reported me missing. The fact that I had planned to be alone for the weekend in my condo was not a great help.

As my eyes adjusted to the light in the room I took in my new surroundings. It was obviously night time from the blackness of the window in the room which meant I must have been unconscious for many hours. There also did not appear to be any street lights outside so god knows where the hell I was. I looked around the room and realised that I was laying on top of a small double bed that was pushed up against one corner of the room, and there was a small dresser and wooden chair and beat up wardrobe that looked like it had had better days. There were two doors to the room, one of which I assumed was a bathroom.

Or at least I hoped it was. Not that I could go very far since my hands and ankles were tightly bound.

"FUCK!" I tried to yell through gag as I started to thrash around on the bed to loosen my bindings. They managed to escape from situations like this in movies, right?

I realised that as well as being in pain I was hungry, thirsty and in somewhat desperate need for the bathroom, and I began to quietly sob to myself at the hopelessness of the situation I found myself in. I should have gone with Amelia and Claudine to Isabel's exhibition. I should have blown off that client. Assuming the client was even real.

My sobbing stopped at the sound of the door being unlocked from the outside.

I took a deep breath through my nose and realised that I was holding it while I waited for the door to open. The person that walked in was tall, incredibly tall, and dressed in heavy boots, dark jeans, a black long-sleeved sweater, gloves and a black balaclava. It was obviously a male, and based on the muscled chest that was hidden underneath the sweater, I assumed it was the man who had abducted me earlier that day.

He closed the door behind him and I heard it lock again from the outside. An indication that he was not working alone. I swallowed loudly as my fear grew. I watched as he picked up the wooden chair and placed it the wrong way facing the bed. He sat down on the chair facing me, his long legs straddling the seat as he rested his arms on the back of the chair.

All I could actually see of him was the small strip of flesh around his piercing and intense blue eyes. It crossed my mind that in any other situation I would have found his pale blue eyes completely beautiful. But instead they were staring out from a balaclava and belonged to some sadistic kidnapper who for all I knew was going to rape and murder me. I almost giggled at the thought that I was surprised he wasn't wearing sunglasses.

"Sookie Marie Stackhouse," he began in a deep accented voice that sounded dipped in velvet. "Also known as Sookie Marie Compton. Daughter to Michelle and Corbett Compton. Twenty-eight years old and born on July first. Married for three years to Bill Compton, aged forty and son of Geraldine and Nicholas Compton. Older brother Jason Stackhouse who works in the family law firm, Stackhouse and Company. Am I missing anything?" I assumed that he was smiling based on the glimmer in his eyes. "Oh yes, working secretly in NYC as an interior designer under maternal grandmother's name Adele Hale. I think that's about all for now."

I was shocked at how much he knew about me, and quite simply, scared shitless. His eyes were on me the whole time, but I couldn't seem to avert my gaze from him. I felt as if he had me in his spell. I started struggling again, but it was a fruitless attempt and ended in me starting crying again from the pain in my wrists and the cramp that was beginning to set in.

"Calm the fuck down." He hissed and I instantly stilled my movements, but unable to stop my tears and sobs. "I will untie you if you stay still. And stop fucking crying."

I watched as he got up and moved the chair out of the way. I had been placed on the far corner of the bed against the wall so the man had to climb kneel on the bed to get closer to me. "Don't fucking try anything, okay? I will not hesitate to tie you to the bed if you try to escape." There was a sense malice in his voice and I didn't doubt the he meant it.

He pulled me closer to him and leaned to pull a knife out of his boot which he flicked open. I screamed inaudibly as he moved the knife to my ankles at first and sawed through the rough rope that was binding them. The relief was instant and I flexed my legs to get some feeling back into them.

The man was watching me carefully, obviously to make sure I didn't kick him or attempt any form of escape, and was holding the knife in a threatening manner. I had a feeling that this man was not one to fuck with, and I didn't doubt that there were other men outside the door who would be in the room in an instant if I tried anything.

"Roll on you stomach," he ordered and I did as I was told.

He carefully cut through the rope that was tying my wrists and I rolled back onto my side, bringing my arms to the front of me and rubbing my bruised wrists. I brought my knees up to my chest and curled up in a ball on the bed as I moved further away from him. The man was surveying me with his ice-blue eyes and seemingly noticed the bruising and red marks on my wrists his eyes softened and a gloved finger traced over the marks which caused me to flinch away from him.

His eyes hardened again. "If you will keep the fuck quiet I will remove the tape from your mouth. Will you do that?" I nodded. "This is likely to hurt."

I braced myself as his gloved hands moved towards my face and he tried to remove the tape from my mouth. However after a few unsuccessful attempts at peeling the edge he was forced to remove one of his gloves. The hand was large and tanned and I thought I spotted the edges of a tattoo on his right wrist.

He carefully unpeeled a corner of the tape and slowly began to peel it off. He was right when he said it would hurt, as it absolutely fucking killed. Obviously the tape he had used was not kidnap victim friendly. My mind wondered to think whether there was such a tape.

I made random stretching mouth movements to exercise my lips and brought my fingers to my mouth to rub where the tape had been and then wiped the tears from my eyes.

The man placed his glove back on and resumed his position on the chair, his eyes seemingly permanently fixed on me. I almost felt naked under his gaze and I suddenly feared that he was going to rape me. I instinctively pulled down my skirt and regretted wearing such a short skirt that day. A pair of jeans would have been much more appropriate to be kidnapped in, I thought darkly.

"Please don't rape me," I begged as I watched the man run his eyes down my body.

"I am not going to rape you."

I remained quiet as another tear slid down my cheek. I wondered whether anyone had noticed that I was missing. Would one of the girls have tried to call me after their trip to Isabel's studio? Would Bill try to call me?

It was absurd that I was even wishing for Bill as I knew perfectly well that despite the fact that we weren't due to see each other until the following Wednesday evening, neither one of us would have taken the effort to call or text the other.

The man had remained completely still as he watched me cry silently into the pillow, which I had moved to hug into my chest. I didn't know why he was still sitting there, but I felt strangely comfortable with him in the room even though he had kidnapped me. Eventually he got up and put the chair back in its original place.

"The bathroom is though that door," he pointed to the other door in the room. "There are clean clothes for you in the dresser, and towels and basic toiletries in the bathroom. Don't drink the water from the faucet, it's not safe. I will bring you in some food, bottled water and pain killers shortly."

He walked over to the door and knocked loudly before saying something in the foreign language again. The door opened and I saw a very brief glimpse of a blonde woman stood in the corridor. She was tall and seemingly dressed in a light coloured dress. She didn't look like a typical kidnapper to me.

But then I was also fairly sure that the normal kidnap victim would be held in chains in a damp dark dungeon and probably left to piss and shit on the floor. The fact that I had my own room with en-suite bathroom and change of clothes not only told me that this was an unusual situation, but also that it had been meticulously planned. And since the man knew a hell of a lot about me I was obviously not just some random unlucky woman.

I got up to stretch my legs and had to hold on to the edge of the bed for stability. When my legs regained their strength I staggered towards the bathroom and let myself in. The room was small with a matching white toilet, sink and shower. I did my business, washed my hands and dried them on the new looking towels.

I looked into the cabinet and found shampoo, conditioner, toothpaste, toothbrush and some shower gel. All the basic essentials. The window in the bathroom was small and sealed shut.

I walked back into the bedroom and again saw that window was tightly shut, although I did wonder whether I'd be able to break the window if I threw something at it.

"I wouldn't try it if I were you." I quickly turned to see the man stood with a tray of food inside the door way. "It's a long way down and I'm not so stupid as to not have motion detectors outside the window." He placed the tray of food on top of the dresser. It smelled divine and I felt absolutely starving despite my situation.

"Thank you." I muttered.

"It's not poisoned. You're of no use to me if you're dead."

I was shocked by his words. I hadn't really thought about why I had been kidnapped. "Why am I here?" I asked in a small voice.

His eyes were smiling again. "Well that's the question, isn't it. But we'll leave that one for another night. Good night, Sookie."

He walked out of the room and I heard the door being locked from the other side. I walked over to the meal which was a roasted chicken breast, jacket potato and some corn. It was on a plastic plate and the cutlery too was plastic. The man was obviously being very cautious and it made me wonder whether he had done this type of thing before.

I sat down and tucked into the meal which was actually quite tasty and quickly polished off the whole plate. The man had also brought in a large bottle of water for me and I spotted two tablets on the tray which I assumed were Advil or something. I took the tablets figuring that it wasn't as if things could get much worse for me.

I opened the dresser to find a few pairs of jeans, t-shirts and clean underwear. I was a little disturbed, however, that the sizes appeared to be right. Even the bra. Exactly how much information did these people know about me? I was also relieved to see a few raggedy looking paperbacks in the drawer, one of which being Jane Eyre, an all time favourite of mine. I found a long night dress and took the opportunity to have a shower before I climbed into bed with the book.

I read until my eyes began to shut, desperate for something to keep my mind from imagining all sorts of scenarios where I was being raped or tortured by the tall man with the blue eyes.

I had a feeling that those eyes were going to haunt me for a long time.

So what do you think? Should I continue?

Thanks for reading.