Cruel Temptation (Underground Kings 1)

“You didn’t answer the door. I like that.” Her old voice shook, and upon further inspection, I recognized her. She was the woman who sat in one of the back pews of my wedding and watched.

I stood, wishing I had the heart to kill an old hag, but I didn’t. “You! How dare you talk to me at all after what you let happen.”

“What could I have stopped, Rabbit? Hmm? I’m seventy-years old. All my fucks are gone. These men were the kind of men to either work for or die for seeing what wasn’t supposed to be seen. I’m smart. I’m a survivor. And these men aren’t too bad. Uptight, if you ask me. I’m sorry what’s happening to you, Rabbit, but I had to pick a side. I wasn’t ready to die. I didn’t think he’d take me up on my offer. Thought he’d kill me right there in the middle of the church before God and everybody. At least it paid off.”

Two things about Jaxon Steel.

He didn’t believe in god.

And he thought old women were adorable and in need of saving.

The woman exploited his weakness, and she had no idea. She thought it was dumb luck that kept her alive, but honestly, Jaxon probably saw his grandma in this crazy old bat. A woman who died when he was sixteen and then his parents two years later.

“Fuck you, lady. You made a choice, and now I’m trapped.” I crossed my arms over my chest and furrowed my gaze at her. She had poufy hair and wore a pink tracksuit. Red lips, thick mascara, and only a few wrinkles around her face. She didn’t look seventy, but she walked like she was. “Don’t give me your excuses. I’m not here because I want to be.” I glanced away and thought about Brian, then sighed. It was no use telling her I wanted to go home. She had chosen her alliances.

And like I said before, I wasn’t going to beg. No one would get that from me.

“Oh, poor you. Trapped in a big, beautiful room, with food catered to you.” She laid her hand on her forehead and feigned distress. “Life is just awful. Oh, the injustice of it all.”

“It…isn’t like that. Stop making the situation seem better than it is.”

“Rabbit, it is better than what it could be. Be glad you aren’t your friend right now,” she smirked, her voice dragged like she lit a fresh smoke and puffed. She made her way to the door, and my heart pounded at the thought of Brian being injured.

“Where is he? Is he hurt?” I followed her, but she kept her back to me. “Answer me, damn it!” I nearly shoved her, but my damn subconscious stopped me because the slight jolt would probably break her back.

She hummed as if she didn’t have a care in the world. “Enjoy your food, Rabbit.” She slid out the door and locked it.

I slapped and kicked the door, frustrated that I was more of a wreck now than I was before she came in. “Tell me how he is! You better tell me,” I screamed until my voice broke, losing the control I swore not to lose. “And my name isn’t, Rabbit! That doesn’t even make sense!” I kicked the door one more time for good measure and let out a frustrated groan so loud it echoed throughout the room.

I tried the knob for the hell of it and found it locked, of course, but it was worth a shot. I turned my head and placed my chin on the curve of my shoulder, staring at the silver cart with gold lids covering the plates speculatively. I bet it was poisoned.

I’d wake up tomorrow in a different room, probably in another country.

The thought had my breath catching. What if I was in Romania or something right now? What if I wasn’t even in the United States?

Just my luck.

I gave up on figuring out where I was held hostage and took a step toward the cart the crazy lady brought. Anxiety gnawed at me, or it could have been hunger. My stomach growled when I smelled the food and coffee. Did I really want to eat the food?

If I didn’t, I’d be weak, and I couldn’t fight anyone off.

Or I’d die from poison.

Or I’d die from not eating.

Or I eat and die anyway from being cooped up in this room.

Really, the only option was to eat.

My fingers gripped the warm lid, and I flung them off the plates quickly, letting them crash onto the floor. The metal rang as the lid circled like a toy spinner until it lost momentum and laid still. I wasn’t sure what to expect. I guess I thought something would jump out at me, but all that was there was my favorite dish.

“Bastard,” I cursed him again when I saw loaded hashbrowns. I had an unhealthy habit for breakfast foods. Biscuits and gravy sat on top of the crispy bed of potatoes with cheese and cuts of bits of steak, mushrooms, onions, bell peppers, and jalapenos. It was disgusting to a lot of people, but my mouth was watering at the plate. The gravy dripped off the edge onto the cart, and I wanted to lick it up.

I was a sick person wanting to eat this food my kidnapper gave me.

I opened the next lid and saw fresh fruit, blackberries, and strawberries with a dollop of whipped cream, another favorite. A French press stood in the middle between the two plates, filled with coffee and creamer sat to the right of it.

All of it looked so good, and Jaxon knew I’d eat every bit of it and then fall back asleep, as I did every time when I got full.