Sloane woke to an aching jaw and a splitting headache. For fear of making anything hurt worse, she didn't move. Her stomach churned at the memory of the man punching her. Why would he do that?

But she needed to find a way out of there. If that man was okay with hitting her just for speaking, what else was he capable of? She didn't want to find out.

Once the blanket was thrown off, she was pleased to see that he had left her in her clothes. She sat up in the middle of the bed, ignoring the throbbing that afflicted various parts of her body and focused on how she'd start searching for a way to freedom.

She swung her legs over the edge of the bed before a strange, piercing pain shot up her calf and through her thigh. She choked back a wail and gripped the sheet in her fists. Once adjusted to the feeling, she slid to the floor, careful that her foot didn't touch anything.

Her hunt began on the opposite side of the room. The chair served to steady her as she stood on her good foot. Hoping to maybe find a secret tunnel, she scoured the wall, looking for any loose spaces,

Of course, disappointment flooded over her to find that, unlike the condition of the carpet, the paneling on the walls remained intact. She slumped down to the chair and let out a frustrated groan.

Lost in despair, she sat there for a few minutes which seemed to drag on for hours before hearing his footsteps on the stairs. Heart hammering against her chest, she decided to try to make it back to the bed. Something about it seemed safer than sitting in that chair without the blankets to conceal herself.

Without thinking, she stood, putting weight on her right foot. She cried out and fell, catching herself before face planting on the floor. In seconds, she was on her knees, crawling as fast as possible. Despite the short distance, he came in just before she made it.

"What are you up to?" His voice held a tinge of worry, as if he were her partner, while he leaned down and hooked his arms under hers. With little effort, he lifted her up and placed her onto the bed. "You could have hurt yourself."

"I...I…" Nothing came to mind. How could she tell him that she was trying to find a way out? That would guarantee her another punch or worse.

"You need to stay in bed. You need to rest." He left her there for a few seconds before coming back with a tray. She hadn't noticed him place it on the floor when he’d come into the room. "You must be starving."

He sat the tray across her lap with a large smile on his face.

Sloane gulped, too scared to do anything. She risked looking at him to see his smile waver as the silence between them grew. She decided it would be safe to at least appear to accept his food. "Thank you."

"Eat up." His smile widened and he motioned to the tray. Her heart sank as she realized that he wasn’t going to leave.

She looked at the assortment of fruit, a bowl of oatmeal, and a tall glass of milk; everything was in plastic containers with a plastic spoon sitting to the side. Based on what he'd brought her, she assumed it was morning. Her throat tightened at the thought of eating anything from him. He must have poisoned it.

"What're you waiting for?" His brow creased.

"Uh…" An excuse to avoid eating evaded her. Even if she said she was lactose intolerant or had some other food allergy, she was sure he would have brought something else.

His stare was unnerving as well as the fact that his features had started to shift into a frown.

She gripped the spoon in her hand and took a large scoop. Her hand shook as she lifted the utensil to her mouth. But she couldn't force herself to take the bite of food.

Even if she had wanted to eat, her throat was constricted. The spoonful of oatmeal fell to the tray, hitting the bowl and causing a mess. "I'm sorry." She squeaked when he jumped up, swearing. Some of her meal had flown toward him.

"Clumsy little…what is wrong with you?" He muttered, checking his clothes to see that none of the food had gotten on him. His voice boomed, his mouth inches from her ear. "Eat this or else."

She cringed which made him angrier. He had a spoonful of oatmeal in her face in seconds. "Eat." His demand was harsh and she forced her mouth open, wide enough for a small bite.

He slid the spoon in, a look of pride on his face. She closed her mouth and he took the spoon out.

The lump of oatmeal felt foreign on her dry tongue as she tried to swallow it. After several attempts, it went down, but not without ease.

He had the milk ready in seconds. It didn't help since all she could think of was the potential poison she'd just ingested. She managed to keep from choking, sure it was only because of the milk.

This went on forever. At least it felt that way. But he was patient as he fed her, his features softening with each bite she took.

Sloane hoped to feel some kind of strength return from the nourishment, but her stomach continued to churn the whole time. Whether it was from not eating for however many hours she'd been there or from fear that he was up to something sinister, she didn't know. She didn't care. An idea had come to her though.

Feeling a little brave or maybe just fueled by a need to get out, she made the smallest moves, inching her fingers to the tray. Once she could get a grip on it and he was distracted enough, she swung it up, flinging the contents in different directions, and hit him against his head.

But the impact wasn’t hard enough. All it did was piss him off. His hand whipped out and she only saw blackness once again.

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Something felt heavy against her left ankle as she turned onto her right side. A groan escaped her lips before she decided to see what it could be.

Then it all came back.

She was in some crazy guy's cellar, with all of her things missing. Her right foot was injured and all she could assume was that the wound was infected. The man had fed her and hit her again. All the fear and dread she had felt earlier came rushing back. She bolted into a sitting position, whipping the blankets away to see what held her leg captive.

A heavy, metal cuff circled her ankle with a thick chain leading down the side of the bed. She made her way over to see where it ended and let out another groan. Of course the other cuff would be wrapped around an opening in the footboard.

Despite knowing the restraints weren't going to give, she yanked and pulled until she struggled to breathe. She took a second to look at the padlock that held the cuffs closed. She thought maybe the lock could be broken with force. But after looking around the room to see if there might be anything that could be used to smash it, she realized the man had been careful. The only other option that might work would be to raise one of the bed legs high enough to bring down on the lock and she doubted it would do a thing. But it was worth trying instead of just sitting there in defeat.

She made sure to watch out for her injury as she crawled over the edge of the bed. Once down on the floor, she tried to position her ankle but it was awkward any way she turned. The cuff chaffed her skin even more as she slid it around to no avail. No matter what way she positioned herself, she risked hitting her ankle as she attempted to break the lock. The real problem came when the bed wouldn't budge as she tried to lift the leg up.

That struck her as odd because what kind of bed doesn't move? It wasn’t a built in bed; it was a good old fashioned frame with a box spring and mattress. So she slid underneath to look. There were thick bolts going through the railing, securing it against the wall.

The man had thought this through.

She crawled out from under the bed and got back onto it, hiding under the security of the blanket. All she wanted to do was cry and her throat tightened as if she would.

The only thing that she was sure of was that she needed to find some way out of there. It wouldn’t do any good to talk to him; her sore jaw reminded her of their last minimal conversation. She could yell and scream and she did, but for no good. He'd made the room soundproof, courtesy of the stuff shoved into the ceiling.

Despite how low it was, Sloane still couldn’t reach it. She stood on the bed and reached as high as possible, her fingertips several inches away. With an irritated groan, she slunk down on the bed.

Her only option left was to sit and wait.

With nothing else to do, her mind raced all over the place, landing on the realization that she couldn't be the first person he'd kept prisoner before. There was no way he had just bolted the bed to the wall or decided to keep her shackled to it. And who would take someone's belongings, save for some clothes, if this was their first abduction? She did find comfort in the fact that he hadn't stripped her down to her panties and bra again.

Restless and desperate, she decided to see how far away from the bed she could get. She eased herself down to her knees again and began to crawl. She didn't even make it to the middle of the room before the slack in the chain was gone. He had confined her to the bed.

Once sitting on it again, she looked along the wall for any kind of defect that she might be able to chip away at. But of course, just like the other side of the room, there wasn't anything.

An inspection along the edges of the bed showed there was nothing there as well. Frustrated beyond belief, she let loose the loudest scream she could manage. A part of her hoped there was some kind of fault in his soundproofing, that just maybe they weren’t alone there.

Her throat burned and eyes watered. She had been trapped for who knew how long and would remain so even longer. And what were the man's plans? As her body fell to the mattress, she let her frustrations out, her sobs a strangled noise.

She cried for so long, she’d drifted off to sleep only to wake to gentle nudging. His face was inches away as she peeled open her eyes.

Dread coursed through her body. She tried to push herself deeper into the mattress to get away from him. He saved her from straining something when he sat up and just stared down at her.

"Why?" She sobbed, risking another punch.

"Why what?" He looked confused.

"Why are you doing this to me?"

"I'm only trying to help you. But you don't seem to be very grateful."

"I am. I just don't get why you have me chained up." She made sure to keep her voice level and kept eye contact with him.

"You can't be crawling all over the place like you were this morning. You'll hurt your foot more." He gave her a look that suggested it was common sense.

"But you can't keep me prisoner."

"You're not a prisoner. I only did that to keep you safe."

"Then why can't I go to a doctor?" Her anger began to overrule any other emotions, her voice rising.

"I am doing a good job." He had his teeth grit together as he motioned to her foot.

"How do you know?" She challenged, bending her knee up in an effort to bring her foot closer to her body, as if she were protecting it.

Without speaking, he stood and grabbed her ankle, yanking her leg out. She yelped as he began to unravel the gauze.

She was shocked to see that despite the swelling, the wound looked clean. There appeared to be a clear liquid around the hole in her foot, but no blood. The man did seem to know what he was doing. But that didn't keep away her desire to get out.

She looked at him in shock just before he leaned in and kissed her.

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Banner photo found at https://www.dreamstime.com/photos-images/bandaged-ankle.html