I stumbled as he muscled me into a small, dark room and then flipped on the lights. The room had a toilet, a cabinet with a sink, a square mirror, and a small shower stall. Everything was white with concrete floors just like the room where Ryker held me captive.
He pulled a robe from underneath the sink and draped it over a hook next to the shower. “You can shower and use the bathroom,” he said as he folded his arms across his chest, leaning against the door.
I snatched the robe off the hook. “Are you staying?”
“Can I trust you not to run?”
“No,” I shot back before I contemplated the consequences of my answer. Dumbass.
“Then I’ll wait here. Go ahead.” He nodded his head in the direction of the shower.
“No,” I shouted. My heart seized with a sickening terror. I imagined his silvery eyes crawling over my naked body. Enough guilt and self-hatred already assaulted my conscience for having sex with him. I didn’t need any more.
He rolled his eyes. “For fuck’s sake, Hattie, I have no interest in your naked body or touching any part of you. There’s no need to be modest.” His eyes danced with amusement like he found the whole situation hilarious, and it stung for too many reasons to contemplate.
Asshole.
Asshole.
Asshole.
Humiliation heated my cheekbones and quickly spread down my face to my neck. “Then, why’d you touch me last night?” My voice was so small and pathetic I wanted to shrink into nothingness and disappear. His words plunged into my heart like an invisible spear. Logically, why he fucked me wasn’t important. It happened. Given the chance, I’d rewind history. Regrets were a waste of time and brainpower. Unfortunately, my emotional mind snubbed my rational mind.
His eyebrows lifted, his eyes void of all emotion once again. “It was my job to procure you by any means necessary. You were open to sex, so that’s the tool I used.” He crossed his ankles and the corners of his mouth twitched. “It worked.”
My mouth opened and then closed quickly as my mind spun in circles. I pinched the bridge of my nose trying to find balance and calm. I took a deep breath, and resignation settled into my bones. I wanted to be clean and wash every ounce of him from my body. Then, I’d regroup and figure out how to sneak away from him. “Fine,” I whispered, turning my back to him and pulling the tattered remains of my dress over my head. I crumbled it into a ball and tossed it in the trashcan next to the sink. At least the tiny shower stall had a curtain rather than glass.
I stepped into the shower and turned it on full force. Ice-cold water ran down my skin and I gasped. Numb with defeat, I didn’t care. I stood there with my eyes closed, frozen and shivering under the stream of water until the temperature adjusted.
I didn’t know how much time had passed when the shower curtain scraped across the rusted metal bar. I flinched, but kept my eyes closed choosing to ignore reality. Ryker pulled my body toward the opening. “Don’t.”
“I’m going to wash you.”
“No.” My eyes popped open, and I ripped the bar of soap out of his hands. “I don’t want you to touch me.”
“Fine.” His face impassive, his voice bland, he drew the shower curtain closed. “Do it yourself, but be quick because you only have two more minutes. I’m done playing games with you. I have shit to do today that doesn’t involve pampering a worthless socialite.”
My hand contracted around the soap so hard I thought it’d crumble, and at that moment I made myself a promise. I’d eat. I’d drink. I’d tell him and anyone else what they wanted to hear. I’d learn his vulnerabilities. I’d be totally compliant, but the minute Ryker’s watchfulness faltered, I’d fucking run and I’d be free. I didn’t brush up against the masters of manipulation my entire life without learning more than I’d ever wanted to know about survival and deceit.
Chapter Eight
“Here’s where you’ll live for the next few weeks.” Ryker threw open a white steel door.
I tightened the belt on my robe as my eyes scanned the room. No window. White walls. Narrow bed. White coverlet. White linens. Painted white concrete floors. I always liked the perceived elegance and simplicity of white, but right then I promised myself a life full of color when I escaped. Not if, but when, because there wasn’t an alternative. I refused to die at the age of twenty-four in the middle of nowhere before I had the opportunity to do anything with my life. And when I got my life back, I wouldn’t cave to my parents’ demands or expectations…ever.
“It’s like my private padded cell minus the padding,” I mumbled under my breath. If he heard me, he didn’t care.
“Most of the items from your suitcase are on the shelves in the closet.” His arm waved in the direction of the door at the far end of the room.
“Most?” I questioned, brushing my damp hair behind my ears.
“I discarded anything that you might use to harm yourself or us.”
“Us?” I glanced over my shoulder.
“Yes.” He chuckled. “There are others.”
“How flattering,” I mocked, flinging myself onto the narrow bed. Unfortunately, it was as hard as it looked and nearly knocked the air from my lungs when I landed. “An entire team of deranged assholes all dedicated to restraining a hundred and fifteen pound woman.”
“Someone will bring you food within an hour.” He smirked. “It’s probably not what you’re used to, but I think you’ll you find it acceptable.”
“I’ll be fine. I don’t care what I eat.”
Ignoring the plastic chair in the corner, he reclined on the edge of my bed, his long muscular legs stretching out in from of him. I wished he would move. Up close, he was just as mesmerizing as the first time my eyes connected with his last night. I didn’t want him to lull me into a false sense of security.
“So who do you think will come to your rescue? Your dad or your lover’s family?”
My brow furrowed. “How do you know about Evan?”
He shrugged. “I know a lot of things.”
My body stiffened. “How?”
His lips curled into a slow, unsettling, almost predatory smile. Vivid, heated images of his lips exploring mine flashed through my mind. Shame raced through my body. I jerked my head to the side, closing my eyes, trying to erase the image from my mind.
He trailed his finger down the exposed flesh of my thigh. My stomach twisted in knots.
“Do you think Evan would still want you if he knew you spread your legs for me?”
I covered my face with my hands, but a rough-edged sob escaped my mouth. It didn’t matter what he said. I didn’t care.
He peeled my hands from my face, tilting my chin, forcing me to look at him with his icy gray eyes. He leaned toward me, his body braced above mine. “Don’t look so stricken. Maybe he wouldn’t care.” One side of his mouth lifted. “He has some unusual tastes, but you don’t know that yet, do you? He usually goes elsewhere for those needs.”