Total pages in book: 81
Estimated words: 74538 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 373(@200wpm)___ 298(@250wpm)___ 248(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 74538 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 373(@200wpm)___ 298(@250wpm)___ 248(@300wpm)
He came closer, and I scrambled—tried to anyway—back, gasping as my hurt ankle twisted painfully. He froze, and I saw his body tense, his gaze snapping to where my foot was, his dark brows pulling low. I could hear him grinding his teeth, and then he slowly looked at my face once more. He shook his head before coming closer.
I was stupid for thinking I could get away from him, and not just because I was chained to this bed. He screamed dangerous and feral, and I knew that if I ran, he’d only catch me. I didn't know how I knew that, but it was pretty ingrained in me.
And what I didn’t like was the way he made me feel.
He held out the tray, not speaking, just staring at me as he bent down and set it on the little bedside table. I only took a second to see what was on there. A slab of cooked meat. Literally just a thick piece of steak.
And it looked like the most delicious thing I’d ever seen. And that glass of water was cold enough there was condensation on the glass, causing my mouth to salivate even more and my throat to tighten.
I wanted to tell him to fuck off or that I wasn’t eating any of that and he could shove it up his ass, but at the end of it all, I was so tired. And hungry. Like really hungry. And the rational part of my brain didn’t think he was trying to drug me. He’d had plenty of chances to hurt me, and the only injuries I had were from my own doing. And aside from those things, I felt… relatively fine, all things considered.
“I’ll say it again, even though I know ye will no’ believe me. But I will no’ hurt ye. Ever.” He gestured to the tray. “Ye need tae eat. It’s been a while since ye’ve been here, and I can sense ye’re hungry.”
Sense?
“I need to pee,” I stated matter-of-factly. It infuriated me that his lips twisted in amusement. “So you can either let me go to the bathroom, or I can just use the bed as a toilet. Your choice.” I was surprised I had this kind of strength in me that I was snapping at my captor, but right now I just didn’t care.
“Aye,” he said. “I should have thought about yer needs better. I’m sorry.”
I was shocked at how genuine he sounded.
I cleared my throat. “How long have I been here? How long have you kept me captive?” Maybe I should be meek and submissive until I could escape, but fuck that.
“Hours,” he stated simply. “The sun will be rising soon.” He scrubbed a hand over his face, and I could tell he was exhausted. Good.
I snapped my focus to my bag, knowing my cell was in there. I could call for help—
“Ye will no’ get service where we are.”
I looked at him again, narrowing my eyes as I wanted to spit out a pissed-off retort.
“But ye’re welcome to try.” He shrugged and reached across for my bag, sliding it over so it was right in front of me.
I wanted to point out I was chained up, but suddenly the words were lodged in my throat.
The scent of that meat made its presence known again, and I licked my lips as my stomach cramped once more, the charred flesh making my salivary glands work overtime. “Who are you?” He didn’t say anything at first, just watched me with a steady gaze, his eyes seeming dark with the candlelight and shadows, but I could see they were blue. “Why did you take me? What are you gonna do with me? How long have I been here?” He hadn't answered the first questions, because I started doing the rapid-fire of the others.
He turned from me, and I expected him to leave again, but he just went over to the corner and grabbed a chair I hadn’t noticed, slid it over beside the bed, and lowered his massive frame onto it. I expected the flimsy wood to be crushed under his weight, but when he leaned back and crossed his massive arms over his chest, the furniture held.
It was clear he wasn’t going anywhere.
“I’ll tell ye what,” he said with that steady gaze, that level voice. “If I unhook yer hands and ye eat, I’ll answer any and all yer questions.”
I narrowed my eyes, wanting to bitch at him that I wasn’t going to eat anything, wanting to show him I could be a stubborn bitch. But I was dying of thirst, starving, and what was the point of fighting?
“A bite for an answer?”
I saw the corner of his mouth quirk, as if bartering with me was humorous, as if it made his damn day. I nodded sharply, my lips pursed tightly because I was pissed and tired and hungry and just wanted answers.