My heart is racing so hard and fast that it actually hurts. I can feel beads of sweat on my forehead, nervousness making my hands shake a little.
And then I bring the blade up, slicing through the rope, and all but stumble backward. But still, he doesn’t move, even now that his hands are free.
Ever-so-slowly, he sits back and rests against the cinderblock, his gaze trained on me.
“You should eat and drink that. You know, to keep up your strength.” I nearly grimace after saying that. Him keeping up his strength probably isn’t the best option for me, right? I mean, keeping him weak is safer, but seeing him tied up disgusts me. If I knew for a fact he wouldn’t hurt me, I’d have released him by now.
“Okay,” I say softly, looking at the untouched food and water on the ground just a foot from him. And with one more glance in his direction, I head back upstairs, close the door, and lean against it, unsure what the hell I’m doing.Chapter FourRideJesus, fuck….
I can’t tell you the last time I was surprised—the hit on the head notwithstanding. I’m still alive today, because I’ve learned to read people, and the one thing I’ve been taught over the years is that people only look out for themselves.
The girl who just came in though… I’m not sure at all about her. She’s pretty—at least, she has the ingredients to be pretty. She’s got soft blonde hair that appears to be long, but it’s hard to tell from the messy twist of it all on top of her head.
She’s got light-blue eyes, but there are dark circles under them that take away from their beauty. And she’s skinny, too skinny really. She needs to put some meat on her bones and make those curves fill out, because you can tell they’re there, begging for attention. She’s not tall at all, tiny really. I’m betting I’ll tower over her. But hell, she’s got nice tits; there’s nothing tiny about them. They’re big enough to wrap around a man’s cock in welcome. Too bad she’s so young. She might be too young for the thoughts her body sparks inside my brain.
I stare at the food she pushed in front of me, wondering if it’s laced with shit. She didn’t look like the kind to fuck with me, but then again, I don’t know her. I decide not to touch it. I’ll wait to find out more about the girl before I put any kind of trust in her. But I give her credit for coming down here and facing me. She looked terrified I’d bust through these bonds and come after her. And the truth is, I would have if I could.
But I can wait—I can bide my time. Maybe she’ll let something slip about why in the fuck I’m here.
In the meantime, I look around the room for a way to escape. With my hands free, that’s going to be a fuck of a lot easier, but I’m still chained to the damn wall. I’ve already tested it, and there’s no way to break them. I’m going to need to cut through them somehow; that or convince her to find the key to the fucking lock attached to the chain and free me.
I spotted the rusty old hedge trimmers earlier. I couldn’t do anything with my wrists tied together then, but with some work, I might be able to get them now.
I use my hands to push and slide my ass across the dirty concrete. This place smells like my fucking bloodhounds when they’ve been out all night and come back smelling like they rolled in something that died.
My anger festers. I’ll find out who in the hell had the balls to take me, and once I do, I’m going to fucking kill them.
It takes some work, because it’s mostly dark and my memory is cloudy at best on where the fuck those clippers were, but I manage to find them, after straining my guts out and feeling the chains bite into my flesh. I carefully inch back to where I was. I’m thankful the chain around me has enough of a lead, but it’s fucking tight as hell, and I think I cracked a fucking rib to get my hands on these clippers.
It takes all the strength I have to get the damn blades to separate. They’re rusty and corroded as hell. I open and close them repeatedly, trying to loosen them up enough so they can actually do what they were made for… to cut through shit.
I don’t know how long I work with it, but eventually I get tired and decide to see if it will even help. I put one of the blades against the chain, seeing if I can cut the rusted links. I frown when it makes zero headway. This isn’t going to work at all.