Free Finding Abigail by Carrie Ann Ryan

risen in her throat. 
    Oh, God, how long had this man been watching her? And why did he know those intimate details of her life? No one knew, only her.
    He’d said he wouldn’t rape her…but, what else did he have planned?
    “I see I’ve surprised you. I think you need to know the whole story. But, first, I need to make sure you don’t get the idea to run away again.” He took out handcuffs from his back pocket and smiled. “Let me see your hands, darling.”
    Abby hid them behind her back. There was no way she’d let him handcuff her to anything. 
    No freaking way.
    Aeneas glared. “Stupid bitch. You really think you have any choice in the matter? I was being nice to you because I didn’t feel like fileting your body in the delicious way it could be. Believe me, all those curves would lead to a masterpiece of precision cuts. Now give me your fucking hands before you make me lose my temper.”
    Fear wound its way up her spine and threatened to choke her. Jesus, this wasn’t a man to mess with, no matter how nice he tried to smile and console her.
    Shakily, she held out her arms, putting her wrists together so he could easily cuff them. He snapped one in place around her right wrist, tugged, and brought her hands above her head to secure her other wrist so that her hands were wrapped around the radiator.
    Her pulse sped up as he traced a finger down her jaw. 
    “I’m sorry to have to do this, like I said, but plans changed.”
    “What…what plans?”
    Keep him talking . 
    That’s all she had to do and maybe someone would come for her. Damn it, she hated being weak.
    “Ah, you see, I’m Aeneas. The Aeneas.”
    She blinked. That didn’t mean anything to her.
    Aeneas— the Aeneas, whatever the hell that meant—gave a drawn-out sigh and threw his hands up.
    “You damn Americans. How do you know nothing of your history? I’m Aeneas, the first put-upon man and victim of Cupid.”
    Abby blinked again. Of all the strange things she’d heard in her life, that had been the craziest. And considering she was best friends with a witch and an elf, that was saying something.
    “Cupid? Like the Cupid?” she asked, the fear of him staunching any humor that may have wanted to wind its way through her voice.
    “Yes, the original Cupid. You know of Santa and his executives, well, Cupid has his own, but rather than call them something else, the narcissistic bastard just calls them cupids—little c.”
    Where on earth was this going?
    “I was Cupid’s first victim. He used me and… her to see if his arrows would work.”
    “And did they?” she asked, curious as to why he wouldn’t say her name. The emotion he said it with lay heavily on him. She wouldn’t ask for the woman’s identity. Considering how he had her chained, it didn’t seem like a good idea to bring that up.
    “At first.” He closed his mouth, as if sorry he’d said anything at all, even as his eyes stormed over.
    “I’m sorry,” she said. Even though she didn’t know the whole story, something bad must have happened to turn him this way. 
    Okay, now she was getting sympathetic for the man who had her cuffed. She needed therapy.
    A lot of therapy.
    Aeneas nodded then pulled something out of his back pocket.
    Those tears that had finally stopped running came back in full force as she looked at the length of the blade in his hands.
    “I…I thought you said you weren’t going to kill me.”
    “I’m not, Abigail. No, I’m going to show that cupid of yours what it means to ruin my plans.”
    Her body shook as he came near. She kicked out, but he grabbed her ankle. 
    “Don’t even think about it.”
    She pulled back, even as he came closer with the knife.
    Something he’d said finally snagged on her brain. “Who are you talking about? Who’s my cupid?”
    Aeneas gave her a truly baffled look. “Tyler, of course. He’s a cupid, one made to find the true loves out in the world and bring them together.”
    Tyler was a cupid? Why