Page 77 of Cruel Expectations

She gave him her haughtiest look. “You know what a drink is?”

He heaved himself off his chair. Like his muscles were stiff. Let him try sitting in this damn unforgiving chair.

Wordlessly, he walked to the flight of chipped concrete stairs and began to climb them. She shuddered to think of how that rough material must feel on his bare feet.

What was wrong with the guy? Besides being a criminal capable of kidnapping a woman from a parking lot—and wasting good food she bought for her friends too—he was either on drugs or had mental issues.

She watched him go. At the top, the door opened, sending a spear of white light into the basement. Then he closed it so quietly that she had to peek to see if he was actually gone.

Throwing out her senses, she focused on the world she was stuck in. The wall opposite her was damp and dark with moisture and mold. She didn’t even want to think about what breathing that in was doing to her lungs.

Then there were the noises coming from above. Low voices, obviously male from how deep they were, droned on. Occasionally one would raise in an outburst, which made her wonder if they were arguing over what to do with her.

Put a knife in my hand so I can cut myself free and then slit your throats.

In her life, she’d rarely felt anger this intense. It was white-hot. Blazing. It seared through her. Was this how her brother felt in battle? How Hunter felt when he faced down an enemy?

She swung her head to look at the corner. She really did not want to think about where that chewing sound was coming from. Something told her it wouldn’t be a fat, cute little mouse in a beret come to chew her bonds off her and bring her hand-picked flowers and delicious fruit as gifts like in a child’s cartoon.

The door opened, and light beamed into the basement. She heard the slap of bare feet on concrete steps. Her warden appeared carrying a glass.

Stomach twisting, she stared at it. “Not that water.”

He trained his gaze on her.

“Sparkling water.” She tipped her chin upward.

His lips twisted in a sneer. “Would Perrier do?”

“If you don’t have it, Sparkling Ice will work.”

She saw his mouth move as if he repeated the brand of drink she requested. Not that she expected a guy like this to know the difference between bottled waters and tap.

She pushed harder. “I also expect to be reimbursed for the food you ruined when you grabbed me.”

His dull expression transformed to something vicious. Evil gleamed in his eyes. For the first time, she feared she’d underestimated how stupid this one was.

Leaning close, he glared at her. “Do you even know what you stepped into, little girl?”

Those menacing words made Ivy’s heart flip. But she steeled herself and thought about Hunter. What would he do in this very same situation?

He’d know a maneuver to break his bonds and would snap this guy’s neck before he ever knew what was coming. Since she didn’t have the same training, she would need to use her wits.

With her head high, she stared her captor down like he was a bit of manure stuck to the bottom of her boot. “I know you work for the loan shark.”

The loan shark’s crony resembled a homeless man. But now she saw what she hadn’t been certain of before—how strung out he was on some substance. She recognized the twitchy way he moved as a sign of addiction.

He snorted. “Guess you have something besides a pretty face, don’t you?”

Her skin crawled at his compliment but she held her tongue. She needed to get this guy on her side so she could manipulate him into letting her go.

As he pushed closer to her, she caught the scent of unwashed clothes and fought to keep her nose from wrinkling.

“Very pretty. Sexy too.” His gaze dipped to her breasts. During her struggle, her top had been torn and it now hung low, revealing her bra and the rounded tops of her breasts.

“Get away from me, you vile man.”

So much for getting him on her side. With her mouth, she wasn’t capable.

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