He opened his eyes and looked at me, his gaze sleepy like he was still out of it.
“It’s not hot chocolate, but it’s warm.”
He propped himself up on one arm, his hair messy from rolling around all night. His eyes were still heavy from sleep, but he looked me over, his eyes starting at my legs and slowly moving up until he looked at my face.
I knew I looked totally different, in a way he’d never seen before. I’d even shaved in the shower, so if he saw me naked again, I’d look different there too—not that I expected that to happen again.
His large arms were flexed and covered with veins, and his broad shoulders made the mattress dip underneath him. The sheets were at his waist, showing the chiseled abs and line of hair. A more beautiful man had never been in my bed before. Without blinking, he regarded me. “Beautiful.”
I didn’t know how to react to those words…the only compliment he’d ever given me on my appearance. “I have breakfast downstairs whenever you’re ready.” I left the coffee behind and ventured downstairs. The house was a mess and would be a pain to clean, but I was grateful to be there, so I refused to complain. I started on the dishes because that seemed to be the most pressing.
The chair pulled out from the kitchen island.
I stilled when I heard him behind me. I turned off the faucet, and I dried my hands. When I turned around, he was sitting on the stool, the same place where my sister had sat, shirtless with the coffee in his hand. He brought it to his lips and took a drink, watching me at the same time.
I opened one of the containers and gave it to him. “It might be cold…”
He pulled it toward himself and immediately started to eat, like he didn’t care if it was frozen solid.
I drank my coffee, the cream and spices an explosion of flavor on my tongue, the pumpkin reminding me of holiday parties and celebrations. It was something I’d thought I would never have again. Now I wanted it every single day until it was no longer on the menu.
He ate in silence, his hair still messy, the dark patch of hair between his pecs a little darker than the hair on the top of his head. He took bites and chewed, his eyes on me all the while.
I realized it was one of the few times I’d ever seen him eat.
I was always the one eating.
Silence passed and we didn’t speak.
Sometimes it was tense between us, but there was always this underlying comfort, like we didn’t need to speak to feel connected. We could enjoy the silence and eye contact without filling it with pointless conversation.
I waited until he was finished eating before I got down to business. “How are we going to do this?”
He brought the coffee to his lips and took another drink, the empty tray in front of him. “Be more specific.”
“My sister. What else could I be talking about?”
He regarded me for a moment, taking another drink, his elbows on the counter, his muscular arms in full visibility. “Let me figure it out.”
“No.” My sister’s life was in the balance. I wasn’t going to let him execute this plan without telling me the details. “I’m a part of this.”
He set his cup on the counter and stared at the surface.
“Do you know where she is?”
He nodded.
“So, can we just go there and grab her?”
He shook his head. “Not exactly.” He lifted his gaze and looked at me. “I’ll go to his residence and talk to him. There’s no guarantee this will work. I told you I would help you. I didn’t guarantee I would be successful.”
“You have to be successful.” I kept my voice controlled, but I wanted to burst into a scream because failure was not an option in this.
He sighed before he straightened, sitting fully upright. “This is a lot more complicated than your life at the camp. Believe it or not, but the outside world is far worse than that place.”
I couldn’t believe that. “You’ve never been a prisoner, so you have no idea.”
“You don’t know me. You don’t know what I’ve survived.” He didn’t raise his voice, but his cold calmness was somehow more ominous. “I will do my best, but I can’t make him do whatever he doesn’t want to do. Honestly, I can’t think of a sound argument for getting him to comply. I’m gonna have to wing it.”
“Can you just steal—”
“No.” He shook his head. “I can’t rescue her from that place the way I rescued you. Going behind his back and betraying him is not an option. A conversation, man-to-man, is the only chance we have.”
“But what can you possibly say to convince him to let her go?”