I’m going to have to lure Griffin back in here. Convince him to release me. Play the broken girl act and then run like hell. I can do this.
“Griffin,” I croak out. “Griffin.”
The clanging stops, so I call for him again. Seconds later, he appears in the doorway, a scowl on his face.
“I’m sorry,” I lie. “You’re right.”
He doesn’t move as he studies me. “You just want me to untie you.”
“Of course I want you to untie me,” I grit out. “I want to drink some water and eat. I want to talk this out.”
After a long, pregnant pause, he stalks over to me. “You can go to the restroom and clean yourself up. Dinner is almost ready. One wrong move and you’ll regret it, babe. Trust me.”
I give him a sharp nod. He sits on the edge of the bed and begins untying the complicated knot. Once my arms are free, I stretch and curl my fingers to encourage the blood to run through them. I allow his assistance to help me up and out of the bed. He walks me to the bathroom, but before he follows me in, I stop and shake my head.
“You’re not going to watch me pee,” I grumble.
He smirks. “I can if I want to. You can’t stop me, Casti.”
“How do you ever expect us to be a real couple if you don’t let me be me?” I snap. “You’re delusional if you think I’ll have anything to give you if all you do is take.”
His brows furl as he mulls over my words. “Fine. I can see the logic in that. There’s nothing in this apartment worth trying to use as a weapon. Trust me.”
Pass.
That ship sailed when he forced himself inside my body all those years ago.
“Whatever, Griffin. I’m tired and starving and weak. You’ve made your point. I understand that you can overpower me. I’m trying to play nice here.”
“Good girl.” He pats my head and walks off.
As soon as he’s gone, I shut the bathroom door. Quickly, I take a much needed bathroom break. After I wash my hands, I splash cold water on my face to keep me alert. My neck is purple and blue, swollen twice its normal size. Griffin is such a psychopath. I’m going to kill him. I just have to find a weapon first.
Quietly, I search all over the bathroom. There’s nothing of use in the drawers and cabinets, just like he said. It’s frustrating, but I accept my losses and move on. As stealthily as I can, I slip out of the bathroom into his bedroom.
His room turns out to be useless too. No weapons whatsoever. Crap. If I could get to my vest I grabbed before my quest to find Mercy last night, I could stab him in the throat with a stake, but he’s clearly taken it and hidden it away.
I creep out of his room and sweep my gaze over the living room. Unless I plan to beat him with a television remote control, I’m doomed.
“Have a seat at the table,” Griffin says, pointing at the two place settings.
There’s a fork at each place. I could use two forks for weapons. With a stiff spine, I sit down and casually rest my hand over the fork.
“Remember when we used to have sloppy joes every Friday night?” He grins at me as he sets a pot of sloppy joe meat on a hot plate. “They were your favorites. I used to love the way your eyes would light up at something as simple as food. Your eyes used to light up for me too.”
I grit my teeth to keep from saying something that’ll end up with me tied to his bed again.
“After we made love…” He trails off, a sad smile forming on his lips. “You stopped looking at me that way.” He snaps his head my way. “You glared at me with hatred and shivered with fear.”
“I was a child,” I whisper, unable to let this delusional bastard keep talking about what happened like it was a love story.
“You were mine.” He chuckles as he sets a bun on my plate and opens it. “Still are.”
I curl my fingers around my fork. “You destroyed my trust in you. You raped me, Griffin. It was the most painful thing I’d ever endured.”
He scoffs. “Give me a break. You gave birth. Lovemaking doesn’t hurt that damn bad.”
“I had to get stitches,” I say, my bottom lip wobbling. “They begged me to tell them who did it to me, but I was too scared to say a word.”
He slathers some sloppy joe onto my bun, ignoring my words. Once he places a piece of cheese on it, he covers it with the top bun.
“Eat, Casti, you’re wasting away,” he growls.
“Why did you do it?” I demand, a hot tear racing down my cheek. “Why?”