Page 22 of Red Captive

I hate it.

Her blonde hair is carelessly thrown into a ponytail; strands have come loose, framing her face. Her eyes are a striking winter blue. She isn’t wearing a lick of makeup, but a female like her doesn’t need it. She’s a natural beauty if I ever saw one.

She’s dressed in the standard uniform for the kitchen, laundry, and cleaning staff. It consists of navy blue pants and a matching top with the Mistveil logo on the right breast. It’s a look that doesn’t flatter most people, but on her, it’s somehow transformed into something almost stylish. The baggy shirt and too-long pants hug her curves in all the right places, accentuating her figure in a way that has my eyes flashing back to hers and irritation brewing inside me.

Good thing I have no interest in females, particularly ones like this. Conniving, greedy, and selfish are a few words that come to mind. Not to mention a complete fraud and con artist.

“Okay, Judgy McJudgster, who are you, then?” She looks at the bags at my feet and the ones at her feet. “What is this?”

Judgy McJudgster – what the fuck!? I ignore the comment.

“I’m going to be your shadow until you,” I shrug, “sell yourself, I guess.”

Her face turns red. Her jaw tightens, and she lifts her chin. She doesn’t like that. It’s a pity I don’t care what she likes and doesn’t like. I’m not here to make her life easy. I’m here to make sure she stays in line. I’ve always called a spade a spade, and if she doesn’t like it, I couldn’t give a shit.

“I don’t need a babysitter,” she tells me, lifting a brow.

“Your escape attempt this morning sings a different tune. I’m it for your foreseeable future. You can get leaving this island right off your mind. It isn’t going to happen on my watch.”

“No way.” She shakes her head, and more strands of hair break free. “Forget about it. I object. I’ll take someone else, anyone else.” She knows I won’t fall for her shit. “I’m going to have a talk with…” She turns, runs, and makes a grab for the door, opening it a crack.

I bracket my hands on either side of her, slamming the door shut and caging her in. I don’t touch her.

The human turns, putting her back to the door, flattening herself against it. Getting as far away from me as she can get. Her big blue eyes are huge and focused on me.

“You don’t need to talk to anyone. I got my orders from the general. I told you, it’s you and me for a while.” I smile for a moment, but I’m sure it looks more like a grimace. I’m not in a smiley mood.

Her lip wobbles, and she bites down on it. Then her innocent-looking eyes fill with tears. They glisten. She blinks rapidly.

Fucking spare me!

She swallows; it’s slow and thick. She blinks some more. For a moment, I am tempted to back off and even to apologize. Damn! She’s good. The general was right. For just a second there, she almost had me fooled. Me! No way! Not happening.

I shake my head. “You can stop with the crocodile tears already. I saw you crying earlier, too.” I back away. “I didn’t believe you then, and I don’t believe you now.”

She narrows her eyes. “They’renotcrocodile tears.”

“Right.” I snort, folding my arms. “You can object all you like but I don’t believe you, so you may as well save it.”

“I’m upset because I can’t go home like I wanted.” She bites her lip and takes in a deep breath, like she’s measuring her words. “I like Rex. I’m sorry he got into trouble. That he got hurt,” she mutters, looking down at the floor.

“I’ll bet.” I snort, not believing her for a single second.

Jen

I’ll bet!

What does that even mean?

Holy shit, he might be absolutely drop-dead gorgeous, but he is the biggest prick I have ever met in my life. What did I ever do to him?

I huff out a soft breath. Yeah, maybe it’s because I tried to escape and got Rex into trouble. Maybe he and Rex are good friends. Even if they aren’t friends, this guy was there. Hewitnessed what happened. Saw the carnage, and now he blames me, which makes sense. Iamto blame.

Also, this asshole has been assigned to babysit me when I’m sure he has much better things to do with his time. He’s probably just as pissed as I am at this situation. Maybe he has a wife, kids, a life. Now he has to watch me twenty-four-seven, from the sounds of things. I guess I can’t blame him, although he could be nicer. Or less prickly, at the very least. This is next level. It’s like I did something to him personally, which I absolutely did not. I would remember him, that’s for sure.

You know what? I’m going to do my best to be nice to him. The nastier he gets, the nicer I’ll be. It’s not his fault he has this job. Having said that, if he thinks he can treat me like shit and walk all over me, he can think again, dammit. I’ll just have to find that delicate balance between being nice and not being a pushover.

Easy.

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