My eyes flew open. The world in all its glory came banging on my door, assaulting my senses with much vigor. Everything was surreal, too bright and too close it was blurry. I blinked a couple of times, willing the banging in my head to go away.

My vision cleared, my headache didn't. My temples were being hammered and opening my eyes made it worse. My brain wasn't ready to make connections. I could feel every signal being sent and it was unpleasant. It felt like a bomb went off in my skull. Only, my skull was still intact so you could guess how my brain looked; mushy mixed with a lot of...

"Ow", I said when I tried to raise my head. I felt like someone had just kicked me in the back of my head.

I forced myself upright, ignoring the beatings I was constantly getting from an invisible force. And then I got a taste of it –my mouth. It was dry, but that couldn't mask the taste of acid latching onto my tongue. By instinct my lips contorted to make a disgusted expression.

I took one long conscious blink, opening my eyes to look around. It was no longer uncomfortable to look, though my heart lurched at my surroundings. I was on a bed draped with white sheets. It looked like I was in a bedroom. There wasn't much in the bedroom, just the bed, a dresser, a nightstand and a small one-man couch with a bedside table near it. The door was just near the dresser.

The walls were wood, something I didn't expect to see. It looked like I was in a cabin. The light entering told me it was daytime. I got up from the bed slowly, careful not to further upset my complaining head. I was about to walk out of the room when I noticed something on the nightstand. It was a medicine vial, and it read "Flumazenil 0.1 mg/mL". It was almost empty. There was a syringe next to it.

I couldn't remember ever seeing it. And then I realized I couldn't remember anything. I could remember going to the club with Clark and his friends. I just couldn't remember what happened there and why I was in a cabin.

I instinctively checked the part of my body I could see for puncture wounds, but I couldn't see any. But something told me even if I couldn't see entrance spots, whatever flumazenil was, it was used on me.

I put a hand just below my ribcage to try and dwarf the gnawing pain I was feeling there. I hadn't realized it up to that point. Fear ran to engulf me. It didn't have to run far. I already knew from my hammering headache that something was wrong. The scene was eerily familiar. Something was terribly wrong.

I was about to desperately look for my phone when something exploded. For a second I forgot about my headache and abdominal pain and focused on making sure I was out of harm's way, falling down to the ground and covering any part of myself I could. I could only manage covering my severely ill head.

My heart was threatening to jump out of my body and free itself. I didn't blame it; I wanted to jump out myself. I must have lay on the ground for quite some time before I realized the explosion hadn't been in the room, and had sounded like a gunshot.

I got up slowly, making a snap decision. If I was going to die, I wasn't going to die lying on the floor. If someone was shooting outside, they were probably engrossed with whoever they were shooting. I could attempt to sneak out.

My legs protested of course, but I ignored them for a bit. I just needed to get out of the place unseen. I could hide somewhere else, just not in the house.

I got to the door wondering why I was attractive to crazy people. This was the second time for goodness' sake.

A thought crossed my mind. Maybe I was overreacting. Maybe someone found me sprawled somewhere and rescued me. Maybe I wasn't a captive. After all I wasn't shackled to anything.

A second gunshot went off, erasing my previous thoughts. Whoever was out there was a criminal and probably a maniac. I tiptoed out of the room and passed was I deduced was a study room on my right when I peered in. There were a lot of books in there. The next room I passed was a living room. It was spacious and had two large brown couches and several cases containing different bottles. There was a fireplace.

One more gunshot went off. I could hear it more now so I deduced it was coming from the front of the cabin. That was obviously not the way to go.

It was the only way to go. There were no other exits anywhere else. I even looked on the floor for trapdoors.

The only door to the outside was in the kitchen. I entered the kitchen slowly, looking through the window to see if I could see anyone. I could make out a person, possibly male but other than that I couldn't see much else besides shades of brown, yellow, orange and red of surrounding trees.

Fear rose. I was in the middle of some forest. No one would hear me if I screamed. I was all alone. It was up to me to rescue myself.

I looked around the kitchen. There wasn't much. Just a wraparound wood countertop with two sinks near the end, a gas stove, a small wood table in the middle and what looked like a pantry. Several pots and pans were hanging from the ceiling. There was a knife holder on the counter top. I didn't waste a second grabbing one of the knives once I saw them.

A knife wasn't much against a gun but it was something. Maybe my captor would underestimate me and prefer to detain me by hand. He'd never see it coming.

I walked to the door, which was at the side of the kitchen. It was open. I peered outside, catching sight of a man. He had his back to me. He was wearing a red plaid jacket and pale blue jeans. I realized he wasn't shooting at someone, he was shooting at something. Several green bottles lay in shatters a distance away and one intact bottle was sitting on a rather tall tree stump next to the broken bottles.

I stepped a little outside. My plan was to tiptoe sideways until I reached the front end of the cabin, from which I would turn and walk to the back. From there I would break into a run. I absolutely had no idea where I'd run to, but as long as it was far from the cabin.

My hand was behind me with the knife and I could feel droplets of sweat forming in my hand. I walked slowly, watching the man closely for any sudden movements.

I wasn't even halfway down the front of the cabin when the man spoke.

"Put the knife down before you hurt yourself".

He was... Was he...How did he know?

His words rooted me to my spot. I took a deep breath as questions threatened to make my head explode. I wasn't over my headache yet and thinking was making it hurt.

The man didn't turn to me. He instead shot at the bottle on the tree stump, shattering it.

I was debating breaking into a blind run when he said. "I don't think you want to be running".

That voice...it was eerily familiar. I had heard it somewhere. I closed my eyes to redirect my focus. Only the voice remained. That voice...

"Felix?!" I blurted.

"I'm glad to know you still remember my voice", he said.

I breathed a sigh of relief so palpable you could reach out and grab it. My shoulders relaxed and my stomach un-tightened. My hold on the knife behind me relaxed, but only for a second.

This was Felix; the guy who went AWOL on me and resurfaced only to tell me he was going to kill again. He'd fucking kidnapped me, again!

"What the fuck is with you drugging and kidnapping me?" I yelled, charging at him.

He finally turned. His beautifully-crafted face with eyes that I could longingly stare into didn't quench my rage. Not even his silky black hair did the trick. Don't even mention his beautiful manly body; I wanted to rip it to shreds.

He jumped. "Whoa, you are going to hurt me with that thing".

"That is exactly what I want to do", I said.

"You do realize a bread knife was a bad choice, right?" he asked, with a smile lurking.

How I wanted to rip off those hard, dark lips. They looked so delectable in the light of the sun. Huh? What was I thinking?

"...Yeah well, it can still hurt you", I said, only realizing after his words that I had a bread-knife in my hand. That was the result of haste, not my non-existing skills at self-defense.

"Put it away", he said dismissively.

"No!" I yelled. "Not until you tell me why you drugged me and brought me here".

"I have a gun in my hand", he said simply.

"Shoot me then", I yelled. It was uncomfortable shouting with a dry throat but I weathered it. I was angry.

"How about I put my gun down and you put your silly knife down?" he said.

"I am not putting shit down", I said.

He knelt down to put his gun in an ankle holster underneath his jeans, covering it neatly.

"I'm unarmed", he said grinning. "Well, almost".

"Fuck you!" I spat.

"Gosh you are feisty", he said.

I cannot really explain what he did next because I didn't really see it, but I found myself millimeters away from his body with one of his hands around my waist. My 'silly' knife was no longer in my hand.

I felt his chest crush against mine before he leaned over and whispered in my ear, "I didn't drug you. I saved you".

Despite protests every cell in my body was waging against me, I pulled myself out of Felix's grip. Admittedly, he'd loosened it.

"Save me from what? I saw the vial! I know you injected me with Fluma-something!" I shouted.

He took a few steps backwards. "I saved you from your stupidity!" he spat.

"I'm stupid?!" I asked.

"What do you call not only accepting drinks from strangers but getting into their cars? That guy was going to rape you! If I hadn't gotten there in time..." he said and faltered. He was taking quick short breaths. "Or maybe it was your agreement?"

"R-rape me? What guy? What the fuck are you talking about?" I asked.

"The guy you met at the club. I saw him slip a drug in your drink. I knew it was downhill from there. I followed the two of you to his apartment. Safe to say he needs a lot of stitches. You were out by the time I got there. The guy was an amateur, dumb enough to put more than was necessary after you'd been dumping alcohol into your system. I had to antidote. Flumazenil, that's the antidote!" he said.

I just stared at him.

"You could have died", he said. His eyes were darker than usual, and sparkled with what looked like tears. It must have been a trick of the sun's rays.

I processed his words. I remembered being at the gay club and talking to a guy. I couldn't remember anything else. I tried but I just couldn't.

"I don't remember anything", I said quietly.

"Rohypnol gives you anterograde amnesia. It's what makes it a good date-rape drug. You won't remember anything that happened after it took effect", he said.

His serious demeanor was unsettling. It was what told me he wasn't lying. After accusing him of drugging and kidnapping me I was ashamed.

"I'm sorry, for...accusing you. I...thank you", I said slowly. And I realized I needed a hug. I was tired and hungry. I was alive. I hadn't been raped.

Felix was standing just a short distance from me but I wasn't going to hug him. He'd saved me but there was still an issue.

"I'll drive you when you want to go", he said as he turned towards the cabin door. "And oh, if you need to use the toilet, it's on the other side". He started walking.

"Felix wait!" I shouted. "The note you sent, how many?"

He stopped and turned to me. "I'm hungry".

"Just please tell me", I pleaded.

"I don't know, possibly 10", he said.

I gasped, and tears just fell. It wasn't surprising. I'd spent the week harboring so much anger and guilt. I'd ignored the disappointment. I'd expressed my anger in ways I regretted. But it was the disappointment that made me drink so much and put my life in danger. I couldn't believe I'd been so wrong about Felix, yet I still clung to the hope that I wasn't wrong. It was foolish and he was proving it to me.

The man I trusted and gave more to didn't exist.

"Archer", he said, his voice sounded pained. He walked up to me but I pushed him away.

"You can't play hero Felix! You can't, okay? You are not a superhero. You are not God!" I yelled as tears streamed down my face. Crying made my headache 10 times worse.

I couldn't stop the tears. Felix had to understand.

"I can protect myself, can't I?" he said desperately.

"What are you talking about?"

"The people...they...they want me to kill somebody. They found out somehow about my past hits. I told them I don't do that but they insist. I am not going to kill for them, but if they come for me instead I will kill them", he said.

I stopped crying immediately.

"You are dumb as fuck!" I yelled.

He raised a brow.

"That should have been your opening statement! Would it have hurt to tell me that you would kill in self-defense? I thought you were going to go on a rampage!"

"I'll still be breaking my promise to you", he said sheepishly.

"I want to break your nose right now. You made me yell at my friends and punch a guy", I said.

"You punched a guy?" he said chuckling.

"You seem to have forgotten that I punched you", I said.

"I let you punch me Pancakes", he said smiling.

I rolled my eyes. "Pancakes?"

"Well the moment I saw you I was reminded of a certain event that had to do with pancakes", he said.

I tried to stop myself, but I couldn't quite derail my pathway to chuckling or the wave of blood rushing to grace the vessels in my face. Pancakes was never a nickname I envisioned for myself but it sounded cute coming from him.

"Tell me more about these people", I said trying to divert his attention to something else other than my burning face. He was looking at me with a grin.

"After breakfast? I have flour and everything", he said grinning wider. "And you have to eat before you start spewing your guts out".

My eyes widened.

"I'm only thinking you might. It's one of the adverse effects of Rohypnol and the antidote I gave you", he said.

I sighed.

He surprised me by walking to within inches of me.

"Why were you crying?"

I shook my head. "I'm not telling you that".

With no signs or hints like everything he did in his life, he crushed his lips against mine. Something exploded inside of me and this time it wasn't painful. It was exhilarating, comforting and beautiful. My body was still tingling even after he removed his lips. My zero efforts at separating our lips were not surprising.

"Now?" he asked, his voice husky.

"Especially not now", I said.

"You'll tell me one day Pancakes", he said. It wasn't a question.

I only narrowed my eyes in reply, accepting the challenge.

"Come make breakfast or you are having bread and beans", he said walking away.

I followed immediately and heard him chuckle. It was one of the best melodies I had ever heard.