A Psychopath For a Boss

Chapter 22 Even Ground

Travis's POV

I am not sure if I'm going to survive the night. My head is spinning... spinni... spin... gone. There was a drink forced to my lips by a handsome man, and though I sipped what I thought would be water or champagne to not cause a scene, I let myself get drugged. While on the run from Sanders, I found someone as despicable as him.

I feel like more and more of an idiot no matter what I do.

My head was heavy, my mouth got wet like I was prepared to puke, and I stumbled into a chair. Or maybe I was pushed by the second man who seemed to appear beside the first. I could barely make sense of what they were saying, except for 'too much to drink'.

Me, drunk? From a single sip? Not possible, and the air coming from these men in front of my seat was not the kindest. They were looking me over with a sort of curious disgust, as if I was an animal to them they have never seen.

Sander's voice came through, like his words were whispered through water. My head snapped up, and as much as I wanted to leave, my neck wouldn't keep up my head. My lap wasn't the most interesting to look at, but the chatter around me was still in muffled waves under the pounding of what sounded like waves in my ears, slowly receding to a dull roar of my blood and beat of my own heart.

My eyes closed, and opened as my body seemed to lose feeling. The nerves in my arms and legs seemed to shut off like a switch. I panicked, my inner turmoil rolling as I moved and twisted my arm. I could see my arm moving, but felt nothing, and pressing the arm against the armchair made me feel nearly sick. I locked my legs together and dug my nails into my palm, hoping for some feeling.

The only feeling I received was shock as blood came from my palm, and a hand grabbed mine, yanking my palm forwards and forcing my fingers flat.

My head raised to meet James's eyes. Speaking wasn't working, I forgot how to make my mouth open. My body wasn't responding. My skin felt like a casing and I was only wires and bones in the center. I wanted to curse him for this, to put blame, but this particular situation wasn't his doing.

James took my hand and put it in my lap, moving the other to the same place, before pulling me forwards in the chair and picking me up. Being dead-weight was my only option. He was speaking, still watery, and incomprehensible. The dark-spruce wood floors passed underneath us. My eyes followed the pattern of the different boards, before closing again.

When my eyes opened, I started twitching and kicking and punching. My whole body felt prickly and fuzzy, like being full-body tickled, or like the raw essence of a dead-air TV station. Blood flow had slowed through my body, and now picked back up, leaving me to flop around as a marionette, a trigger-fingered sadist playing with my strings.

My lips parted and I gasped for air, "Aaaaah! No! Uhgn!" Speaking made invisible spiders rush across my face, scurrying fast away, but still managing to make me hit myself and groan helplessly.

Above me was popcorn-ceiling and my neck was too stiff to turn, and my fingers rested across my eyes like blinds. There was the hope that I was free, in a hospital or somewhere secure, yet I knew I wasn't. The green outfit from earlier was still on me, the material gliding over my cheek. The room smelled like crushed flowers, and my left foot hit something twice before whatever was kicked moved.

James leaned over me, not in a sexual stance, but checking my face. His hair was ruffled and puffed up as if he ran his hands through the locks enough to force the strands straight. He was undoubtedly what I kept kicking, and I wished I had kicked him more.

"Can you say anything?" James asked, moving my arm and causing me to kick and groan as pain shot through me.

"Hhhah, fuck- fuck you." The words were thrown out of my mouth without a passing thought to my own safety. There was no reason to stay looking at his face, so I closed my eyes too.

James laughed, and I couldn't hear an ounce of sadism. His hand landed on my leg and caused me to grunt, making my nerves feel driven away from his touch.

"You don't seem to have any brain damage, that's good." James praised, his hand starting to rub in a slow circle on my thigh. He wasn't joking around, or didn't sound like he was. "You shouldn't accept drinks from anyone you don't know."

"Now you tell me." I said with snark, now that he was lax about what I said. I moved my leg from his touch, before testing my arms on the bed. They seemed awake enough to push myself up with, and I did. My head seemed swarmed with black before evening out, bobbing slightly.

"Don't be too eager to escape me." James moved his hands hold to my arms, steadying me. "You should take it slow. You made me worry all night."

"I can't feel my feet." I wasn't acknowledging that he could 'worry' at all.

"How about your finger tips?" He sat back, frowning slightly, letting me sit on my own.

I touched them together and shook my hands. My fingertips were numb too. "Dead."

"How about your head?"

"Really bad headache. Feels like someone hammered my skull." The situation felt like a visit to the doctor's. But my doctor wasn't a sadist who locked me in his house.

"You should be grateful that you aren't dead right now."

"What's that supposed to mean?" I asked, unable to hide panic in my voice. Goosebumps covered my body.

"The man who poisoned you, Regis, thought you were the press." James said with a collected voice, simply, as if it were a fact everyone knew.

"Who is Regis to have poison? Why would he have to kill the press?" I asked James quickly, a little terrified he wouldn't answer, and scared that he would.

"Regis is an executive Alo board member. He's from Japan." James answered, voice even and cool, almost calming. "And the press aren't allowed in on Alo board meetings."

"Is everyone at your house...."

"Everyone who was here last night was from the Alo Board of Directors." James answered before I could finish. "If you ask anything else, you'll get hurt, Travis." He said, simple and making me stiffen.

There was a moment of silence as his eyes rested on mine, my heart thumping in my chest. There were many things I wanted to ask. There was nothing I dared to ask.

"Come on, if you can feel your legs now, let's get you out of bed." He offered his hands to me.

I hesitantly took them. "I'm not going to be able to get away from this, am I?"

The CEO's hands clasped around mine and pulled me up. "No. If you were to run away, you would be hunted down and killed. You're mine now, and only I can keep you safe."