My eyes move to the nightstand, and I see the beat-up copy ofGoblet of Fire. Crawling closer, I pick it up and open the cover. The picture drops out, and I lift it, studying his young face.
I remember lying in his bed as he read to me, and I remember his words,I stopped trusting anyone until I was completely alone…
We were both completely alone, but he trusted me. Hugging the book to my chest, I place my hand over my eyes. I don’t want to cry anymore. I want him to hear me. I want him to believe me… and one day to trust me again.
I wake to the sound of water running in the bathroom. The room is dark, and the book is back on the nightstand. Sitting up, I rub my eyes, but I don’t have my phone, and there isn’t a clock anywhere I can see.
The noise of the shower ends, and I wait, listening until the door opens. He steps into the room and pauses when he sees me sitting up.
“I picked up dinner in town.” He looks down, then glances to the bathroom.
The muscle in his jaw moves as if he considers offering me a shower. He must think better of it, because he walks over to where I’m sitting, leaning down to take the cuff off the table. He waits as I stand, and again, he leads me by the restraint to the kitchen.
I’m again fastened to the barstool, and I wait as he takes out containers of cole slaw, mac and cheese, and sandwiches from Slim Harold’s. This time he doesn’t take his food and leave. He stands at the bar and shovels large bites into his mouth as I sit and watch before lifting the plastic fork and eating a few bites of cheesy elbow noodles with a crispy parmesan crust.
Skipping lunch has me ravenous, and after the first few bites, I’m eating more. I wish I could take a shower, but I imagine that might be a bridge too far at present.
When we’re done, he walks me to the bathroom, leaving me alone to wash up, brush my teeth, and take care of business. I hear when he exits the small room to fetch me, and we return to the bedroom, where I’m fastened to the nightstand again.
He kneels in front of me as he attaches the metal to the base, and when he lifts his head our eyes meet for the first time since he returned. Heat burns in my chest, and I see it reflected in his eyes. Just as fast, it morphs into anger.
His jaw tightens and he turns away, walking to the door. I think he’ll leave, and swallowing the fear in my throat, I take a chance.
“Are you angry because you fell for me?” My voice is scratchy from lack of use, and I clear it.
He stops, and I shudder, wondering if he’ll leave without a word, if he’ll go to the office and return with the duct tape, or if he’ll double back and slap me. He does none of these things.
“I’m angry because I was worried about you.” His voice has a quiet edge. “I actually wasted time thinking our relationship might jeopardize your future, but you planned it all from the first day. None of it was real, and you were willing to risk my reputation, my livelihood, everything for a list of names.”
“I had one job.” It sounds so stupid now. “I didn’t expect it to be…you.”
“It was all a lie.”
“It wasn’t all a lie.” He might not believe me, but it’s true. “I didn’t have a choice—everything I told you about my past was true. My father was murdered, they took me when I was a child. I’m convinced they killed him, and I have to find out why.”
He’s quiet, and I’m not sure he believes me. “Your people abused Hana, one of the sweetest people I know. They raped her and blackmailed her for a revenge porn film. Made her think she killed a man.”
Lowering my chin, regret aches in my chest. My hatred for them, for my guilt by association with them, is an unquenchable source of despair. If I could get out of here, I could do something to help. Maybe then he’d believe me.
“I didn’t know about that.” My voice is quiet. “I only knew Hana had problems.”
He exhales sharply. “You honestly think I believe a word you say? Your fucking heart is as cold as your people. If you even have a heart.”
He leaves, shutting the door firmly.
I had a heart. I thought I’d lost it, but he helped me find it again.
Now it’s broken.
24
Dirk
I wakein the night to the sound of whimpers. The rain is back, and a tree sways violently in the breeze outside the window, casting shadows like arms waving. Sitting up in the bed, I think I must’ve dreamed the cry. My sleep has been restless since I came here, and Rainey’s presence keeps me on edge.
During the day, I do my best not to look at her. My anger is hot as ever, but unfortunately, so is my desire. Her submission crawls under my skin making me want to punish her for what she did. Only I sense she wants to be punished, and the kind of punishment I have in mind involves holding her down and fucking her senseless.
It’s messing with my mind, and I need Scar to finish what he’s doing and get back here, so I can leave and get my head together. Rolling onto my side, I scrub a hand over my forehead, summoning all the horrible things their criminal band has done through the years. It’s my defense against these feelings for her that don’t want to die.