Taken: Breaking the Darkness Book 1(9)

By: Felicia Starr

Coffee always made me feel better. If I was down, it brought me up; if I was too wound up, it seemed to relax me. I decided to head down to the great little café just a short walk or bike ride from my new home. They made their own blend of both coffees and teas. Although I enjoyed their tea, and tea always reminded me of Gram, I needed my coffee for this emotionally charged trip.

I headed out on foot, sure the walk and fresh air would help calm my soul. I started toward the main road down my street of broken concrete and dirt. After passing by a few shops, I approached the yellow stucco building.

I loved how I had to walk through a little old wooden fence to get to the front walkway. They had a landscape out front of benches, boulders, and boxes filled with flowers, herbs, and a few veggies. After I passed through, I could hear the rickety gate slam behind me. They tried to take advantage of all the space they had. They didn't serve much food, but to know probably at least one of the ingredients was picked right outside seemed to make the food taste even fresher. I just loved the café's aroma of fresh-brewed coffee and tea mixed with the sweetness of pastry and a hint of fresh pesto.

After grabbing my coffee and a honey blueberry scone, I debated on staying and relaxing out on a bench or heading back to hop into my old retro Jeep Cherokee. The sweet musky scent of man stopped me almost dead in my tracks. Although I barely caught a glimpse of him out of my peripheral, his voice danced the tango in my ears. I wasn't certain what he said or who he was talking to. I was too distracted by his very presence.

My body temperature spiked immediately, chills went up my spine and back down into my pants. The butterflies in my stomach started to take away my breath. I only caught a quick look at him but tried to take a mental picture. He had warm, light cocoa-colored skin. His hair was dark-blond and curly, pulled back into a short ponytail. The last thing I really remembered were his eyes. They were a greenish-grey but almost transparent, glistening as the sun bounced off of them right into my gut.

I remembered standing there mesmerized by the thought of him and how delicious his face might have been if I saw it in its entirety. My body craved more of him, his smell, and, most of all, that sexy voice that lassoed me in. I didn't usually get like that over anyone, but the instant desire was uncontrollable.

Everything after that point seemed to be a blur. I had no recollection if I made it home or to the storage unit. Could it be this was where and when I was abducted? It did seem like the most logical option. Someone might have drugged my coffee, although I wasn't sure I took a sip of it, yet another detail lost to me. I wondered if I would regain the memories that were absent. If I could remember how I went missing, maybe I would have a better understanding of why I was taken and who took me. Maybe they even told me and I just couldn't remember.

Chapter Five

I WAS STARTING to wonder if the only way out of the darkness was through my dreams and memories. The uncertainty of my situation was almost as daunting as the possibility of what was in store for me. There was obviously something strange going on, outside the most evident fact that I was trapped in some room, deprived of food and light for days, maybe weeks.

I gave myself a quick recap. I blacked out after leaving the coffee shop and didn't know by what manner I was forced from my life. There didn't seem to be a way out, but food found its way in. I might have touched my own arm while I was meditating. My dead grandmother's ghost possibly visited me. To top it off, I felt like there was someone or something in the room with me even though no doors opened or closed. Oh yeah, and there was a "they" who might be watching me. Wow, if I had said any of this out loud, I would have sounded bat-shit crazy.

I decided to invest my never-ending time into meditating again to put all my thoughts, questions, and emotions aside. I just kept rehashing everything in my head over and over again. My thoughts were chaotic and jumbled, like someone took a book of facts, cut the pages out, and tossed them up in the air. My mind needed to rest.

Although a peaceful OM would have been the most efficient means of meditating, my hunger drove my focus toward those blueberry scones. What can you do? I guess my mantra was going to be blueberry scones. Breathing in and out with as much concentration to clear my mind as I could muster, I found myself settling down.

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