Her arms go lax against my hold, her gaze flicks over my features searchingly. “You’re insane.”
Quite possibly, and it would be all her doing. “I became insane, with long intervals of horrible sanity,” I recite. “One of my favorite Poe quotes, yet I don’t think I fully understood the meaning until now.”
I’m hard and needy where I bear down between her thighs, and I know she can feel my arousal. She can see it in my eyes—how badly I want to taste her, to know what those dangerous lips feel like against mine.
I lower the syringe and let it fall to the earth. Then I reach down between us and unfasten my belt buckle. Blakely’s eyes widen in alarm as I pull the leather belt from the loops.
One final second where I saver the feel of her this close, then I push up and bring her hands with me. I lasso the belt around her wrists and cinch it tight. “You’re going to get hyperthermia.” I scoop Blakely into my arms, and she allows me to carry her back onto the trail.
I realize, out here with her, sheltered by darkness and towering monuments of time, I haven’t counted the seconds, the minutes. The constant, maddening need to check my watch hasn’t once demanded my attention.
She is more consuming than any madness.
17
Committed
Blakely
Lukewarm water beads down my back, washing away the frigid river. I turn the tap all the way to hot, hoping it will scald, but the degree barely changes. I feel like I’ll never be warm again, my body and extremities hardened into ice.
A completely inappropriate laugh slips out at the thought. I am ice, that’s why I’m here. Hard, cold, dead ice. Alex chose me out of a club full of narcissistic, shallow and superficial people. There had to be another option that night, but he selected me.
This bathroom is a new addition, added on to the basement but set apart from the area where he holds me. I pick up the shampoo bottle and notice it’s some generic brand. I suppose scientists who spend their days and nights torturing their victims don’t have time to formulate a preference for haircare.
I lather the shampoo into my hair, letting the suds slide down my body until the water starts to run cold, my thoughts turning inward.
Over the course of my life, no matter what situation I found myself in, I’ve considered myself the most intelligent person in the room. It was like a superpower, to know what everyone else was thinking, what they’d say, how they’d act and respond.
I’m good at what I do because emotion doesn’t hinder my process. And yet, out there at the river, with Alex baring his vulnerability, I couldn’t see past him—I couldn’t exploit any weakness…and I don’t understand why.
The frustration slithers under my skin, and I grip my hair at the roots, a scream lodged at the base of my throat.
I know what men look like and how they behave when they’re attracted to me. When they want to fuck me. But I’ve never had a man look at me the way Alex was tonight…and that not only confused me right then, I was paralyzed.
He’s fucking with my head. Literally. Regardless of what I thought I had figured out about Alex, I can’t underestimate him. I have to keep focused, stay smart.
I twist the lever to kill the now-cold water and ring out my hair. I drape the towel Alex left near the tub around my body, tucking the corner under my arm. As I step out, I notice the clothes set on the granite counter. There’s nothing else in this room. No toilet. No mirror. No personal effects. Nothing I can use as a weapon against my captor or to harm myself.
I dry off and toss the towel to the tile floor with my discarded clothes, then hold up the white Oxford button-down. There’s also a pair of nude panties and jogging pants. Despite still being cold, I forgo the pants and dress in the shirt and panties only.
I test the door. It’s not locked. As I enter the narrow hallway, I hear Alex typing on his computer. I hover in the entryway, and I know he’s aware of me. His fingers halt briefly over the keys before he resumes typing.
Des
pite my desperate actions earlier, I knew there was little chance of escape. I wasn’t trying to get free so much as test Alex and get a better sense of my surroundings. Right now, he’s still vulnerable. Worn. Tired. Fragile.
After my stunt, I don’t know when I’ll get another chance to be outside. I have to utilize this rare chance to push him even further.
As I enter the room, I eye the cart with the metal box and paddles, a feral need to destroy it taking hold. But for right now, it doesn’t appear Alex plans to use it.
“I need better shampoo and conditioner,” I say.
Alex stops typing, but he doesn’t turn around. “That’s what’s important to you?”
I drag my fingers through my damp strands. “I have highlighted hair. Your off-brand shit makes if feel like straw.”
He clears his throat. “I’ll see what I can do.”