Page 20 of Captive Souls

I wanted comfortable clothes, eager for my PJs, but Knox was out there still. I couldn’t be waltzing around in PJs with fruit all over them.

Not that my regular clothes served as any kind of armor. They communicated just who I was—a kindergarten teacher who didn’t take life seriously, loved pink and flowers, and who was an easy murder victim.

Methodically and slowly, I towel dried my hair, trying my best to prolong the process by putting in my conditioning products, curl-taming sprays, brushing it one hundred times exactly.

Why I’d thought to bring my entire toiletry cabinet to my kidnapping was anyone’s guess, but I was glad to have my creature comforts.

Eventually, I had to leave the bathroom, as much as I wanted to live in there. My stomach was informing me of how hungry I was, and the scent of dinner coming from the nearby kitchen was making my mouth water.

On bare feet, I trod on the well-worn rugs—scattered across the wood floor—to the dining table in the middle of the room. Knox was already sitting there. There were two plates on the table.

He’d cooked for me too.

Huh.

I guessed he must’ve wanted me alive for the moment. He wanted me alive in general. Healthy, Stone had said.

My molars ground together at the thought of it. I was basically a pig getting fattened up for slaughter. But even that wasn’t enough to kill my appetite.

Though it evaporated as soon as I was brave enough to pull out the chair and sit in front of the food Knox had cooked. How I didn’t recognize it by smell was confusing. My senses must’ve been scrambled.

I stared at the plate of meat. Charred and steaming and vaguely sickening.

There was a hunk of bread beside it, and that was it.

I looked from Knox to the meat, but he was already eating, obviously not standing on ceremony. I was surprised he was even sitting at the table with me. It implied some kind of civility that didn’t exist between us.

Instead of speaking, I took a piece of bread and nibbled on the edges. Yes, I was still starving, almost deliriously so, but the smell of the meat was putting me off.

No, that wasn’t it. I’d been a vegetarian for my entire adult life, and I’d never been sickened by people eating meat in front of me. I didn’t have a holier-than-thou attitude about it either. If someone wanted to eat meat, I was fine with that. I didn’t make my preference their problem.

So no, it wasn’t the meat.

It was the predator sitting there, eating it. Blood dribbled from the middle of the steak as he speared it with his fork before putting it to his mouth.

He chewed with his mouth shut, used a knife and fork and had good table manners. Except for the fact that he was blatantly ignoring me, as he had since I walked in the door with the wood.

That should’ve made me thankful. Being out of this man’s line of vision or attention was good for me, it was the only way I was going to survive.

Wasn’t it?

What was the path to my survival? Yes, if I survived this cabin it would be great, but it would only be to pass me over to another death sentence. I’d die before being forced to marry Stone. I couldn’t run without Daisy being hurt or killed.

The scant amount of bread in my mouth turned to dust.

I’d been so lost in my thoughts, everything around me had grown blurry. Even him, except now he was cut from sharp lines against everything else around him. My body felt like lead as his attention zeroed in on me. Then on the forgotten piece of bread in my hand.

“You’re not eating.”

I restrained a shiver over the sound of his voice in the quiet room. It was a cleaver cutting through everything.

Keeping my cool in front of him was paramount. I couldn’t show my discomfort. Therefore, I looked up and held his electric, cruel gaze.

“I don’t eat meat,” I informed him.

His expression didn’t change. He didn’t stop eating either, chewing slowly as we continued to stare at each other.

“You do now,” was what he said once he swallowed.

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