‘Hold that thought,’ he said, jumping up and heading to a door off the lounge. His bedroom. Did I have time to escape?

I sat up, my mind raced. No, I wasn’t going to run. If I did then he wouldn’t get what he deserved. I wrestled the small vial of liquid out of my back pocket and put the tiniest drop into my drink. Wiping the bottle with my camisole to remove my prints, I pushed it under the sofa. I stirred my drink and took a mouthful. Hopeful it would be enough to hit my bloodstream but not so much that I passed out.

Ian was taking a while and I stood, ready for his return.

He strolled back into the lounge. I worried he was going to be carrying handcuffs, but he was empty handed. What had he gone out for?

‘Making a run for it?’ he laughed, but it was more like a sneer.

I sank back into the sofa. The way he was acting chilled me to the bone. Alarm bells sounded in my head like Big Ben at midnight. I had no time to act, a second later we were in the same position as before. He ran his hands over me and I squeezed my lids shut, pretending to be into it as I ran through what I needed to do. My body trembled, legs quivering uncontrollably.

‘Cold?’ he asked. The beginnings of a smile on his lips.

I nodded and closed my eyes. A tug at my waistband made them fly open. He was staring right at me, an odd expression on his face as he unbuttoned my jeans.

‘I think I’ve seen you out running, or maybe walking.’

I didn’t like where the conversation was going. Was he trying to provoke me?

‘I would remember you,’ I said, lifting my backside as he roughly pulled my jeans from under me. There was no turning back now. Exposed on his sofa in my camisole and underwear, I considered whether the bedroom would be better. No, we had to stay here. Near the front door. Close to my escape route.

I watched as he moved to his shirt, unbuttoning and sliding it off. Dread washing over me at what was to come. How far would I have to go before the perfect moment presented itself? His chest was hard and smooth, a vein in his neck bulging. In other circumstances he may have been attractive, but all I wanted to do was end his reign of terror. I tried to speak, but I couldn’t make any sound come out. Fear had me frozen.

‘You do,’ he whispered in my ear, opening his fly and sliding his hand inside my knickers, pulling on the hair there.

My forehead wrinkled as I tried to connect his words. To understand what they meant.

His lip curled back into a sneer.