Page 29 of Red Captive

“I will ask her. Just to appease myself. I’m not the kind of male who would want to force a female into something like a mating. It wouldn’t sit well with me.”

“Ask her all you want. Don’t fall for any lies, but ask her.” He starts to turn. “Make sure you have her ready,” he says.

“Fine,” I growl. I want him gone.

“Oh, and, Steel,” he turns, glancing over his shoulder, “I’m putting my neck on the line for you. Don’t disappoint me.”

I don’t say anything. He doesn’t wait for my response; he turns and walks away. I didn’t ask to be here. He asked me. Probably because he knows that I tackle everything I do with dogged determination. He chose the right male for the job.

10

Jen

I eat my breakfast consisting of two hard-boiled eggs, a slice of sourdough bread, and a cup of blueberries. It’s delicious. Now, I’ve exercised, showered, and am dressed and ready for the day. I went with a pair of jeans and a pale blue T-shirt.

I’m brimming with excitement. I can’t wait to… I sigh and flop down on my bed. There is only one massive problem: you can’t do much of anything inside a bedroom. I actually finished one of those murder mystery books and am halfway through another one. They’re not actually that bad. Or it could just be that I am desperate for something to occupy my mind. I have no way of knowing which one it is.

A cleaner came in yesterday to change my bedding and to take my laundry away for washing. It was the highlight of my whole week, except for Steel’s glowering stare and the fact that the poor cleaner wouldn’t say one word to me. Even when I asked the guy direct questions about nothing of importance. Steel is really intimidating, so I don’t blame the poor guy. I guess I’m starved for anything other than these four walls. Mr. Carrot-Up-the-Ass won’t even take me jogging. He lets me hang out in the apartment as long as I don’t talk to him. So far, I’ve made a whole eleven minutes before he forces me back inside here. I hate him. I hate that I still find him attractive. I must have a screw loose or something.

Why won’t he let me go jogging? Why? It would make my life a little more bearable. It isn’t even about jogging. It’s about getting out and doing something other than this. I’m going mad.

There is a knock at the door. “Are you decent?”

I smile. He asks that every time before he comes in. The problem is that he doesn’t care about my answer.

“No, I’m naked, I—”

He barges in.

“Why do you even ask if you don’t care about my answer?”

“You say no every time I ask, and yet you’re never actually naked.”

“Would you even care if I were naked?” I ask, exasperated. What the hell is wrong with him? I ask myself for the hundredth time since meeting him.

“No, I wouldn’t care. What difference does it make? I’ve seen females naked before.” He shrugs one shoulder.

“I’m sure you have,” I mutter to myself.

“I give you five seconds before I enter your bedroom. It should be plenty of time to cover up. I think I’m being nice.” He pretend-smiles.

“Don’t do that.” I shake my head.

“Do what?”

“Smile. It doesn’t work for you. You look like you sucked on sour grapes or something. Just stick with angry and brooding; it’s more your look.”

He sighs like he can’t take it anymore.

Well, that makes two of us, buddy.

I realize he has garment bags in his hands and a bag slung over each of his shoulders.

“What’s that?” I ask.

“You need to pick something to wear and be presentable by half-past eleven today.”

“Okay.” I frown. “Why? Am I going out?” I perk up. Then I realize why I need to be presentable. It’s to meet one of them. I know it is. Maybe more than one. The process has started. Soon, I will be expected to choose, expected to marry one of them.

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