Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 96714 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 484(@200wpm)___ 387(@250wpm)___ 322(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 96714 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 484(@200wpm)___ 387(@250wpm)___ 322(@300wpm)
He’s interested in me, though. In my past. Why? How is he going to use that against me? I’m so tired of trying to predict what yet another man has in mind.
Once we’ve finished eating, he gathers the plates and leaves them on a tray by the door. Now I observe a little more, finding the apartment comfortable but not exactly warm or inviting. It fits the guy who lives here. The clock over the stove reads eight-thirty. At least I have a sense of where we are in the day. Not that it matters much.
I would ask him what he does when he’s in here alone. How he spends his free time and all that, but I’m afraid he’ll start swinging if I say another word. Even now, it kind of irritates me that he’s won, in a way. He’s scared me into silence, and by shutting down, I’m giving him what he wants.
“I’m going to bed.”
Okay, then. “I’ll go to bed, too.”
He looks me up and down like I’m either the stupidest or most pathetic person he’s ever met. Maybe both. “That much should be obvious. Have I given you the wrong idea? Were you thinking you have any say over what you’re doing here?”
“No.”
“I hope not because you’re going to be extremely disappointed.” With a wave, he signals for me to get off the sofa. “Let’s go. I don’t like having my schedule fucked with.”
It seems Lucas is in more need of a blowjob than I thought. I’ve never met anybody wound so tightly.
As usual, he pulls me to the bathroom off his bedroom. When I’m alone, I stare at myself in the mirror, breathing deeply in an attempt to make my pulse slow down. So far, so good. He hasn’t given me any serious reason to be scared. If he wanted to hurt me, he could’ve done it by now.
Still, I jump when he knocks on the door.
“I forgot, I bought you a toothbrush.” I open the door just wide enough for him to slide it through, then close it again. At least I have this.
It would be a bad idea to let it go to my head. I know that much for sure when I exit the bathroom and find him holding the same ropes he used on me last night. “Oh, no…”
“I thought we discussed you not having a say in this.” He stands by the bed, a pillow on the floor just like before.
“Why can’t I sleep in the guest room? You can lock me in the same way you did today. I won’t be able to get out.”
“Here. Now.” There’s something in the way he narrows his eyes and flares his nostrils that gets me moving—but my feet are heavy, thanks to my disappointment.
I’m not looking forward to another night on a hard floor. At least I took a nap in a bed earlier. I had a little slice of comfort today.
“What if I have to pee during the night?”
“Hold it or learn to love sleeping in piss.” He finishes restraining me and barely bothers to check how the tight rope cuts into my skin before standing. “See you in the morning.”
I get one last look at his hard, unfeeling expression before he flips off the lights. After a trip to the bathroom, he takes off his clothes—it’s too dark for me to see anything, which is sort of a shame—as he gets into bed. I might as well not be here.
Though considering how much worse things could be, maybe that’s a good thing.
12
LUCAS
It’s been three days since Delilah became my little captive. For the last two, she has been behaving extremely well, keeping her back talk and flirting to a minimum. Instead of complaining, she kneels in front of me, holding out her hands for me to tie them together. She has been eating the disgusting food I bring her like it’s a gourmet meal and sleeping on the floor like it’s a Sleep Number bed.
I know better than to trust her faked innocence. She is staying quiet, but that doesn’t mean she isn’t plotting. I’m on high alert when it comes to her, and I don’t think that’s going to change any time soon.
She still hasn’t shared anything about her past, which has me trying a different technique today.
“Come sit on the couch. You can watch a movie while I work.”
Her surprise is written all over her face. “Really?”
“Yes. Really.” I point at the couch and watch her carefully step toward it. As if testing for booby traps, she pads the sofa cushion before finally sitting down awkwardly.
She relaxes slightly after I turn on some movie and sit down at the kitchen table. It takes her another fifteen minutes before she actually leans back and pulls up her legs to get comfortable.