Page 10 of Wicked Games of Desire

Yesterday. At least now I know how long I’ve been in this place. I wonder if Dani is worrying about me. I should have started my shiftat the diner by now. I was late once in the last six months, and I had fifteen missed calls from her. I can only imagine how many there are now since I’ve been missing since I took off yesterday afternoon. She’s going to be frantic. Ian will be as well. I was supposed to meet him last night. If I make it out of this alive, he’ll kill me himself for putting myself in such a dangerous situation. And he would be well within his rights too. It was the stupidest thing I’ve ever done. I guess hindsight and all that.

Using my hands, I can maneuver my legs over the bed’s edge, taking my time, before I glance back at his outstretched hand. Hesitantly, I accept it, needing the support to stay balanced. His muscles flex as my weight transfers over to him. Something passes between us, an unusual surge of energy. My hand in his feels so natural. I go to pull back, but like he can sense my unease, he grips me tighter, wanting me to feel whatever this is between us.

“You’re safe with me, Harley.” His voice comes over me like a blanket, warm and comforting. But I don’t believe him. Not for a second.

His gaze, filled with reassurance, remains locked with mine, running the length of my body, lingering as he takes in my bare legs, wearing only a shirt and panties. “Stop looking at me like that,” I snap. I might be helpless, but I’m not beyond using my words to make it clear he needs to keep his fucking hands to himself, or I will do whatever I can to stop him. I glance down his arm and see the black bruise I left with my teeth last night. It wasn’t enough to get away from him, but knowing I could hurt him still feels satisfying.

He laughs, not giving two shits about my little outburst. Did he have a hand in changing me last night when I was passed out? I don’t have a chance to ask him before he pulls me closer to his side, supporting my weight with ease.

I test out my good leg, trying to put a little pressure on my injury, but stabbing pain shoots through my thigh, and I stumble forward.

Ricky’s right there to catch me and offer support, pulling me tighter into his body. “I can carry you if it’s easier,” he offers.

I glare daggers at him. Not a fucking chance, buddy.

“Okay. We can try it your way, but don’t say I didn’t offer to make it easier for you.” Helping me to a door in the back of the room, he pushes it open to reveal an opulent bathroom, tiles in a soft green, a large free-standing tub and open shower. Another window, this one also adorned with heavy metal bars. This place is locked up tight. I get a sinking feeling, knowing there really is no way out, even when my leg has healed.

“I’ve got it from here,” I tell him, my voice tight. My hand finds the wall, clinging to it for support. The bitchy expression plastered on my face tells him to fuck off now that he’s helped me here. He’s not coming inside the bathroom with me.

“Door stays open,” he grunts.

My eyes flick back to him, full of fire, ready to fight him. “Are you kidding me?”

“Nope,” he says, face deathly serious.

Fuck. “I can’t go with you watching me,” I mutter, disgusted. What kind of fucked-up shit is this?

“After the stunt you pulled last night, what exactly did you expect to happen? I can’t trust you to do the right thing, so here we are. You’re stuck with me watching your every move until Alex works out what to do with you.”

Who the hell is this Alex they keep talking about? He says his name like I should understand, but I don’t know any Alex. My bladder protests again, telling me my situation is getting desperate. I glance atthe toilet, then back at him. I really am busting. “For fuck’s sake,” I mumble under my breath.

Using the wall to help me over to the toilet, I take a quick glance and see that Ricky has finally faced the other way. So, I hold on to the towel rail to lower myself down, do what I need to do, and then use it to help me stand back up. Flushing the toilet and hobbling back around the room over to the sink, the mirror tells a horrid tale. I could be cast in a zombie movie with the current shade of my skin. Chapped lips and a graze down one side of my face where the skin’s broken. Bruises coat my arms, telling everyone the story of how hard I fought against him. And I know I did, but it wasn’t enough.

Splashing water on my face in an attempt to revive myself is pointless. Last night, he claimed I was on the verge of death, and I distinctly remember what I heard before losing consciousness. He was filled with panic. Despite being the cause of my pain, he still didn’t want me to die. Why? What does he and this guy Alex want with me?

The reflection of the shower behind me looks amazing, and I desperately need one after all I’ve gone through in the last twenty-four hours. But I’m not doing it with Dr. prison guard watching me, so I guess that little luxury will just have to wait till I escape this hellhole. Wherever I am.

With the help of the wall, I regain my balance and slowly limp back to the doorway. Once again, he envelops me with his massive arms. “I’ve got it,” I tell him, trying to shove him away with what’s left of my strength, but he ignores me, embracing me tightly and helping me all the way to the bed. I sit on the edge gingerly.

He gazes down at me, a heady silence hanging in the air between us. One that only sends my mind further into overdrive. “Are you more comfortable now?”

“Ricky, what am I doing here?” I plead with desperate eyes for him to enlighten me.

When I saw him and Maddox yesterday in the diner, I thought my idea to tail them was genius. I could find out a bit about them, hopefully get my revenge like I had been imagining every night for six months. That was when I thought they were the thugs that broke into my father’s place as a home invasion gone wrong. But now the warning that Ian gave me the following day makes more sense. He told me to disappear. Never to come back to my charred family home and to break all contact with anyone I knew because of my father. He wouldn’t tell me what he knew, only that I was in trouble if I stayed. I never went back. There was nothing left to stay for anyway. I could have jumped on a plane and gone back to college, but I’m smart enough to know that would be the first place they would look for me. Whoever it was I needed to be hidden from.

He reclasps the chain keeping me attached to the bed, then walks back toward the door, and I know I’m about to be left alone without the answers I desperately need.

My body is coiled so tight with tension from being so far out of control. “How do you know who I am?” I ask, trying for any scrap of information he might care to share with me before he leaves me alone.

He pauses for a split second and looks at me like he’s going to tell me, then he moves toward the door, using his key to unlock it.

Tears of frustration well in my eyes. “Why won’t you answer any of my questions?” I plead with him. Although I would rather not have him around, I also don’t want to be left alone, uncertain about what will happen next. It’s unnerving.

“Sorry, baby doll. Get some rest, I’ll bring you lunch soon,” he says before closing the door and locking it tight.

“She’s awake,” I overhear him tell someone just outside my room. “Maybe give her a little time to rest before you interrogate her.”

“I want answers, Ricky. Where the fuck has she been?” the second voice says with an angry edge to it that I don’t like the sound of.

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