Total pages in book: 96
Estimated words: 88115 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 441(@200wpm)___ 352(@250wpm)___ 294(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 88115 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 441(@200wpm)___ 352(@250wpm)___ 294(@300wpm)
I snap out of my deep thoughts the moment I feel him tapping on my lower lip with the tip of the fork, willing me to open for him. My lips automatically part, allowing him to slip the warm food into my mouth. I have a niggling question, so as soon as I swallow my bite, I tentatively ask, “When can I get this needle out of my arm?”
“Tomorrow morning, I promise. We left it in for your own safety. Now that you’re up, eating, and feeling better, it can come out.”
His doting is a welcome distraction. He feeds me from then on in a comfortable silence, leaving me with my own endless thoughts and unanswered questions. Before I know it, I’m swallowing the last bite of food.
“What are you thinking about, Julianna?”
I close my eyes, letting out an audible sigh. “You really don’t want to know.”
“Yes, I do. What you think is important to me.”
I lift my head to stare into his eyes, trying to decide if he’s being sincere, but he’s unreadable. “Why?”
“Why what, Julianna?”
“Why are you being so nice to me?” I follow his movements as he places the fork on the empty food tray.
Looking toward me again, he tilts his head, peering at me through his long eyelashes with a tenderness I can’t describe. “This is just a small part of my job. Your safekeeping and care are my responsibility,” he softly replies.
I don’t know how to respond to his declaration, so I attempt to stay on track with my line of questioning, and ask, “Why me?” I find my voice, finally steadying out. “Why is it you guys specifically wanted me?”
He looks down to find my hands and gently captures them in his own, tenderly holding them. My hands look so small against his calloused ones, and we both watch as his thumbs trace a pattern across the backside of my knuckles. The question hangs in the air, and my anxiety escalates. I want to cry again for being held here against my will. My food suddenly sits on my stomach like a rock, and I want to vomit. Even though Travis says he won’t hurt me, the fact remains, I’m a captive.
Why they specifically want me is a really simple question, and yet neither man will give me a straightforward answer. After a brief hesitation, he lifts his gaze to mine, and I’m immediately caught up in feelings and emotions I have no business entertaining. The man seems to get more handsome with each passing minute. I close my eyes tightly, rest my head against the headboard, and think of Adam. I’m losing my freaking mind with these bizarre thoughts.
“I can’t answer that question, Julianna. In time, if Nick deems it appropriate, he will tell you himself.”
How frustrating. Why will neither of them tell me why Nick has it in for me? I look him square in the eyes now and ask point blank, “Are you guys going to kill me?”
Now it’s Travis’ turn to have the deer-in-headlights look. “No, Julianna,” he answers unwaveringly, like he can’t believe I’d ask such a thing. “My God, no.”
Since Travis claims he won’t hurt me, I ask, “Does Nick plan on hurting me?”
A quick flash of remorse crosses his expression before he schools his features. He lets out a small sigh and softly replies, “Hurt is a relative term. To hurt you to cause you true bodily harm? No. But pain for pleasure and obtaining mutual satisfaction? Eventually—and only when I feel you’re ready for it—yes.”
I swallow hard at the thought and want to throw my dinner back up. I squeeze his hands in a tight grip. My stomach makes a noise and I say, “I think I’m going to be sick.”
He shakes his head. “No, I know you’re upset. Just keep calm and know I’m right here with you, Julianna. You feel me?”
No, I don’t feel him, and I’m growing scared of the unknown violations to come. My active imagination is beginning to conjure up things using the items behind the red wall of curtains, and I close my eyes and wince. I can feel the familiar sting in my nose as my eyes prepare for a heavy downpour of water works, but before it has a chance to turn on, Travis says, “Hey, stay with me here. I know you’re scared, but I’ve got you, okay?”
He’s damn good at reading my emotions; he doesn’t give me time to freak out. He immediately puts his hands back, framing both of them around my face, forcing me to lock my watery eyes with his piercing stare, which speaks with intense conviction. It’s always his eyes that calm me and knock the wind out of me, all at the same time.
I stay in a silent trance, soaking in his reassurance, hoping it’s not a lie. “No worries tonight...for me, Julianna, okay?” He repeats himself, “For me...understand?”