Locked (Savage Men 2) - Page 5

There must be something I can do. Something to save me since that beast of a man obviously won’t help me.

I stare at the walls in front of me and at the bars above me, and then I get up and start jumping. Up and down. Again and again. I don’t give up. Not as long as I see my fingers go higher each time I try.

“C’mon, Jules, you can do this,” I say to myself.

I’m sweating like crazy because I’m exerting so much of my energy. That, and it’s so freaking humid here, it’s almost impossible to move without getting drenched. This isn’t at all like the climate at home.

I want to go back there. To my happy place. My comfy little home.

If I can just reach the bars and grab them, I might be able to push it open. I’ll figure out what to do next once I get to that point. But I have to focus on getting it right.

Focus on not losing my shit because I still can’t reach the damn bars.

“C’mon, Jules, you’ve got this,” I say, blowing out another breath before I continue jumping. “You did this in school, remember? This should be easy.”

I keep jumping. I don’t know for how long, but I refuse to stop, even if my feet ache. I need to get out.

When my fingertips touch the bars, a rush of excitement shoots through my veins. One more jump and I manage to hold them with just the tips of my fingers.

I groan and pull as hard as I can, trying to lift my body, but the moment I do, one of the bars snaps in two.

I fall to the ground with a smack, hitting the back of my head.

Shit. That hurt.

Another groan leaves my mouth as I rub the back of my head.

As I open my eyes, there he is again. Staring straight back at me with that dark gaze.

For a second, I stop breathing entirely.

He’s glaring at the damaged bars.

Will he punish me for breaking them? Hurt me for trying to get out?

Or worse … kill me before I run?

Goose bumps scatter on my skin, but I refuse to let him know how scared I am. My body remains rigid on the floor as I watch his every move.

His hand rises … and then he tosses something at me again.

It lands in front of me.

More meat.

The moment I look at it, I snap.

In a moment of rage, I pick it up and throw it back at him. “Stop throwing meat at my face!”

It slaps him right in the chest and flops down on the ground again.

He doesn’t even seem fazed.

“What do you want from me?” I snap, my voice fluctuating even though I don’t want it to. I can’t control myself anymore. It’s so hard when this asshole is standing there, watching me as if my struggles amuse him.

Why does he keep throwing meat at me? What is his deal?

Does he actually want me to eat that?

I wince at the thought.

I haven’t eaten meat in years, and I don’t intend for that to change anytime soon. I don’t like killing animals for food, let alone eat the meat that’s already available. I don’t like the taste anyway.

But it doesn’t matter.

If he’d thrown carrots at my face instead, I still wouldn’t have eaten them.

I’d rather die than be kept in this hellhole like some kind of pet.

I cross my arms and refuse to look at him. If he won’t answer me, so be it.

He wants to play this game?

Fine … I’ll play.

And I’ll win.

Chapter Three

Accompanying Song: “If I had A Heart” by Fever Ray

Lock

Why won’t she eat?

If she wants to live, she needs food.

Maybe she doesn’t like the food I gave her. But why? Who doesn’t like meat? It’s succulent, soft and chewy at the same time, and the salty taste always makes my mouth water.

I don’t understand why she’s making strange faces when she looks at the meat. As if the smell alone turns her stomach.

I’ve never met a person who didn’t like meat.

Then again … I haven’t met a lot of people.

And I don’t intend to either.

She’s already a handful.

I cock my head and take a good look. She seems to have a small wound on the back of her head that she hasn’t even noticed yet. My eyes skim over the top of the pit and find parts of the wooden bars snapped in half. Apparently, she’s been busy.

I let out a sigh and contemplate it.

If the wound stays open like that, it might get infected. I need to take care of it.

Guess I’ve already decided then … I’m keeping her.

But where?

She can’t stay in that pit. It’s too deep for me to reach in to, and she doesn’t seem to want to keep herself alive, seeing as she’s ignoring all the food I’m throwing at her.

Tags: Clarissa Wild Savage Men Erotic
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