Page 53 of The Butterfly Killer

Marcus bit the inside of his bottom lip as he followed the order. The softness of Roman's voice made him angry. He had to fight this urge to fight. He'd never had this problem in his life—controlling his emotions. He was good at being the docile dog that let people kick it down.

It wasn't even the situation that made him want to act out. Something about Roman, even if he ignored Roman was a serial killer and his kidnapper, drove him to the brink of insanity.

Roman was gentle as he washed Marcus's hair. Carding his fingers through the thick strands, he quietly hummed.

Marcus scrunched his mouth as he glared harder at the wall. As if he knew he was driving Marcus crazy, Roman's humming got louder. He got unnecessarily close.

Marcus turned and splashed water. The water landed on Roman's shirt. He jumped back with his arms up in the air, soap on his hands, and looked at his now wet shirt.

He slowly looked at Marcus. His easy-going demeanor was wiped completely off his face. The hardening in his eyes caused a ball of nervousness to grow in Marcus's throat. He pretended he wasn't affected by the change in Roman's attitude.

Roman shoved his hands into the water to wash the soap off. "Stand up."

Marcus's brows furrowed. "Wha?—"

"Stand.Up."

Marcus's heart beat firmly in his chest. He took a deep breath as he rose onto his shaky legs. The water rolled off his body and dripped into the tub. He curled his toes. The warmth of the water disappeared—a safety blanket yanked off and exposed him to the cold cabin air.

Roman stood and grabbed Marcus's by the nape of his neck.

"Ow!" Marcus went to shove Roman off of him, but Roman shoved his head down so he was forced to double over.

He stilled when Roman's thumb pressed painfully into his jugular.

"I'm not going to say this again," he said in a deepening accent. "I willnottolerate disrespect. I will make this easy for you or I can make it very, very hard. Got it?"

His grip tightened. Marcus sucked in a sharp breath.

"Got it."

Roman removed his hand. It felt like a snake slowly retreating, pulling its fangs from its paralyzed prey.

"Rinse your hair off. You can finish by yourself."

Roman couldn't slam his curtain like a door, but Marcus could infer. But it was more chilling to see him walk away so calmly after threatening violence.

It furthered the point that this was just another day for Roman. It was no sweat off his back as to what happened to Marcus—especially after he got what he wanted from him.

Marcus rinsed his hair in the now lukewarm water. He toweled off after, hopping around on his good leg as his other started to ache badly. He only wished he hadn't pissed Roman off so he had someone to help him walk to the chair.

That was it. That was the only reason for why he felt guilty about upsetting Roman. Because there was no possible reason why he should feel bad about being rude to a fucking serial killer.

15

It wasquiet in the cabin. There wasn't even the howl of the wind outside.

Marcus sat curled up on the lounge chair. He rested his head back, tilted away from the open book he held in his hands. He'd stopped after a few minutes after the words started to jumble together. His eyes stared at a random spot on the wall.

Three more days had past. It was an estimate. He could only tell because Roman always left the cabin when it was morning and when it was night. What he was doing was still a mystery to Marcus. He'd tried to get a look at the cabin surroundings when Roman took him out to the outhouse, but Roman didn't dawdle. He rushed Marcus back between the points as if he knew Marcus was trying to canvass the area.

The days were short, but they were so repetitive they blended together into one long period of time. That was why now he couldn't even escape into a book. He was tired yet he couldn't sleep. The fatigue wore him down to the point he just wanted to lie in the recliner and drift away.

He didn't even stir when Roman came from behind his curtain and walked up beside him. The man stared down at hisunmoving form. The gaze burned into the side of Marcus's face. He felt those eyes all over his body, through his limbs, but he didn't so much as stir.

Roman nudged the back of the chair. "How's your leg?"

Marcus slowly blinked. "Fine."

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