**Three Months Ago **
Erick had spent the evening going over contracts and financial reports. His penthouse apartment was on the top floor, and the not quite full moon cast soft light across his office. His eyes were strained and bloodshot between analyzing his paperwork and the scotch neat he was nursing.
He didn't particularly care for the taste of the scotch. It was an exorbitantly expensive Macallan single malt. A gift from an investor, no doubt trying to gain favor. His preference was less lavish. Give him Johnnie Walker, and he was happy. Erick had an uneasy feeling, and his head was pounding. He had hoped the drink would take the edge off, but it hadn't. He decided his best bet was to pack it up for the night and try and get some sleep.
Switching off the lamp on his desk, he exited the office, crossing the hall to enter the master bedroom. His room was the epitome of masculine minimalism. The large furniture was a dark, beautiful cedar giving the entire room an earthy smell. The bare neutral walls gave the room an empty feeling, but the massive window that had a view of the city was breathtaking. The lights twinkled like a house decorated for Christmas against the dark night sky. Erick didn't even need to turn on the lights with the moon illuminating the room. He removed his clothes, tossing them into the hamper beside his dresser. He slipped into the large king-sized bed with just his boxer briefs.
Despite it being late, Erick struggled to sleep, tossing and turning. The glowing light on his alarm clock showed it was midnight. The pain in Erick's head became overwhelming. Everything began to swirl as heat spread through his body. Suddenly everything went black.
The bright sun was beating down his back, but he wasn't lying in his bed. Rubbing his eyes, he attempted to get a clearer understanding of where he was. As his eyes adjusted to the light, he saw that he was outside in the middle of nowhere. Erick had been curled up in the fetal position on a rock. To make matters worse, he was stark naked.
What the hell is going on, he thought to himself. Was he drugged? Why is he here? How did he get here? Why did every muscle in his body hurt? What were all these bruises and scratches from? And where the hell was his underwear?
Standing up, he saw he was in a small clearing by a lake that was surrounded by trees. He ventured into the woods, trying to find any clues to his location. He followed the path of a stream. After twenty minutes of careful making his way through the woods, he heard the sounds of passing cars.
Making his way to the road, he did his best to cover himself while trying to flag down a passing motorist. An old pickup truck finally took pity on what had to be a scary sight. A six-foot four-inch man who was solid muscle covered in dirt, dried blood, and leaves. It was an elderly couple. As the man pulled over, he opened his door, keeping the hood off the car between him and Erick. He called out. "Excuse me, young man, what is going on here? Do you need help?" His wife was fidgeting inside the cab, attempting to open her window just enough to be heard, "Fred doesn't get any closer," looking at Erick, she shouted, "Don't try anything funny my husband has a gun!"
Erick smirked. He couldn't help but find the couple entertaining. Not wanting to press his luck, being able to flag down another vehicle, he tried his best to sound non-threatening. "I apologize, ma'am, sir. I don't mean to frighten you. I honestly don't know what is going on. I went to sleep in my bed and woke up in the woods like this. I am a very wealthy man, and the only possibility I can think of is that I was kidnapped and left out here. If I could just get you to call the local police to assist you, I would be very appreciative."
"Well, this seems to be quite the predicament you've found yourself in. I have an old blanket here you can use to cover up. I can imagine you might be quite cold." Turning to his wife as he reached into the truck's bed, "Sherry, go ahead and call the sheriff." He tossed the blanket to Erick, who quickly wrapped it around his waist. The blanket looked like a bath towel on his large frame. From the still cracked window, Sherry called out, " An officer is on his way." Despite Erick's best attempts, he could still see the woman was apprehensive and who could blame her.
Not ten minutes could have passed when a police car pulled up. The officer's eyes went wide seeing this large man standing off the side of the road in nothing but a blanket. Fred took one last look at Erick before stating, "well, young man, I hope you figure out what happened to get you in this situation." He nodded to the police officer and said, "I guess we'll be on our way. Oh," he paused, looking back at Erick, "I think you should keep the blanket!" He chuckled to himself as he got back into the truck and pulled away.
The officer had never taken his eyes off Erick and said, "So, do you want to tell me what's going on?" Erick looked at him, rubbing his forehead, searching for what to say. "My name is Erick Conner, as in the President of Conner technology. As for what is going on, well, I honestly don't have a clue. My best guess is I believe I may have been kidnapped and left out here. All I know is the last thing I remember is going to sleep in my apartment."
The officer, whose expression never changed, looked him up and down—likely wondering to himself if any of this story was true. "Given the situation, I am guessing you have no way of identifying yourself at the moment; I only see two options. First, we head down to the station, and hopefully, you can call someone who can identify you and pick you up. The second option is exactly like the first, except we head to the hospital and have them examine you for any injuries." Lowering his voice to just mutter under his breath; he added, "or concussions because you must have hit. Your head."
Despite the fact he wasn't supposed to hear that last part, he did. He glared at the officer and answered, "I think the hospital is a safe bet. I would like a full exam. You may call my assistant. He can bring me my wallet and clothes."
"As you wish, sir," the officer responded in a mocking tone, bothered by the condescending tone Erick had spoken to him as he opened the back door of the cruiser. Erick looked stunned that he seemed to be treating him like a criminal by putting him in the back seat, but at the moment, beggars can't be choosers, and he slid into the back seat.