Chapter Thirty Six

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Fantasia's POV

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Fantasia's POV

I sat on the rooftop of the Italian restaurant, looking out at the stars to distract myself from the drink I had ordered from Taraji that remained untouched. I also didn't want to look at her unoccupied seat. The candles that I lit on the table are going to melt completely before she even sees them. The rose petals I have scattered everywhere are going to wilt. I blinked back tears for like the tenth time tonight. This is so pathetic. I've been waiting for her for hours, and she hasn't even given me the courtesy of sending me a text or picking up the phone to call me and explain why she hasn't shown up yet. I had hired a violinist to play the instrumental of my song "When I See You", but I sent them home after waiting the first hour for Taraji. Now it's going on almost five hours. My food has gotten cold, but I lost my appetite a long time ago. Is this God's way of punishing me for cheating on my husband with a woman? Why isn't she here? Did she get scared because she knew that things were going to get serious tonight? Is she hiding from me, from her truth? Why would she tell me that she loves me just to turn around and make me feel like an idiot? I've never been so humiliated in my life. Did she get into a car wreck on her way here? Did someone hurt her? Could someone be hurting her right now? She was worried about Kelvin following her here. The thought of something bad happening to her is easier to deal with than the fact that she just doesn't love me back. It's fucked up, but it's how I feel.

I checked my phone again, still seeing the same amount of calls and texts from Taraji that I saw earlier. Zero. I'm only hurting myself by holding onto hope. I flipped the entire table over, screaming in frustration and anger. My screams of rage soon faded into cries of heartache. I was ready to put everything on the line for her tonight and lay my soul bare for her to see, but she's not ready for that. She told me that she was, but if that were the truth, then she would be here right now. She couldn't even be woman enough to tell me to my face that she doesn't want me the way that I want her. She already got what she wanted from me, and all I received in return is a broken heart. I was just an experiment for her, a toy for her to play with. Now she's bored of me and doesn't want to play anymore. I'll show that bitch. I know how to hurt her worse than she can hurt me.

When I got back to the hotel, I stormed into my room and ripped my dress off at the door. Kendall stared at me in shock from his place in the middle of the bed, his scrunched eyebrows reading of confusion.

Kendall: Tasia, baby what-

Fantasia: Shut up Kendall. Just shut up and fuck me. I've been neglecting you and I am so sorry, but right now I need you.

Kendall: I don't understand where this is coming from-

Fantasia: I want you to put a baby in me tonight. I want to have your baby again. I want to have your son. Please, fuck a son into me.

He slowly closed the book that he was reading and placed it down on the nightstand, standing up from the bed. He took his glasses off and threw them to the side, along with his shirt. He began to unbuckle his belt as he closed in on me. I jumped up on him, my legs wrapping around his torso as I smashed my lips against his in a bruising kiss. He carried me to the other side of the room, pressing me against the wall. I threw my head back and raked my nails across his shoulders as he entered me. I wish that I had thought to set my camera up and record this for Taraji to see. It would break her heart, but she broke mine first, so that would make us even. Eye for an eye. Heart for a heart.

Taraji's POV

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Taraji's POV

The address that my mystery stalker sent me had lead me to what appeared to be an abandoned warehouse or garage of some sort. I didn't like the looks of it at all. The creepy alleyway in the back only added to the ominous ambience. Walking inside, I had to step over fallen debris and random shards of glass. I was surprised that I didn't stumble upon a dead body. The ash brick walls were covered in graffiti, but I knew that the crimson red spray paint wasn't really spray paint at all. The place smelled like a rotten sewer. I stood in the middle of the warehouse, looking around, watching for a shadow moving through the darkness. When I didn't see anything, I pulled my phone out and shot a text to my stalker.

Taraji: I'm here. Where are you?

???: I didn't think you would be so eager to see me. You look stunning.

Taraji: Stop being a coward and show yourself.

???: You've already seen my face.

Taraji: I want to see you now.

???: You'll see me soon enough. Now go outside through the back. There will be a car waiting for you.

Taraji: What was the point of me coming here?

???: I wanted to know that you can follow instructions. Now that I know you can, my job will be a whole lot easier. Get in the car.

I hesitantly went through the back door, walking out into the dark alley to see a heavily tinted black G-Wagon waiting for me. The driver was wearing a mask over their face. I opened the door, sliding into the backseat. My heart was pounding, but I didn't want to show how scared I was. Sick people like this thrive off of fear. A masked figure dressed in all black seemed to appear out of nowhere and get into the passenger seat. They torturously slowly turned around to face me, their hand gradually raising their mask up their face. My breath caught in my throat when I saw who it was. Before I could say anything, they pulled a gun out of their coat pocket and hit me over the head with it, causing my whole world to fade to black.

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When I came to, my body felt heavy. My head was hurting so bad that the pain was almost numbing. I felt something wet on the back of my head, and I knew that my gash from falling in the shower had been re-opened. I tried to raise my hand to feel my head, but I found that I couldn't. My hands were cuffed, along with my ankles. Chains were connected to the cuffs, binding me to four bed posts. As my eyes began to adjust to the light, I realized that I was in a bedroom. Whoever kidnapped me has brought me to a house. I know that they're not going to kill me, because they would have done it already if they were, but I don't want to find out what they plan on doing to me. I thrashed around on the bed and pulled at the cuffs, the metal scraping my skin. My adrenaline didn't allow me to feel the pain of the skin on my wrists and ankles opening up. I gave up fighting after awhile from pure exhaustion, but I had enough energy left to cry. So that's what I did. I cried until my eyes were sore, and then I cried some more. I heard the doorknob jiggle and my entire body went stiff. My captor stood at the end of the bed, staring down at me. They slowly began to undress. I closed my eyes, hoping that I would be back in my hotel room when I opened them again.

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