Page 15 of Vengeful Union

“I don’t know anything.” And it’s mostly true. I don’t know much about what my brothers and father do for work. I know that it’s violent. I know that it’s illegal. I know it makes us a lot of money.

But I don’t know specifics, and I don’t want to.

“We’ll see about that. Now, if you want this sandwich, you’ll have to crawl to me like the Burke bitch you are.”

“I’d rather starve.” I deflate, because I’m honestly getting a little desperate.

I’m not one of those girls that goes for hours or days without eating. I’m thin, but that’s only because I have a high metabolism.

Scott shrugs. “Guess that’s your prerogative.”

He turns and closes the door, and a chill sweeps through my body. Oh, God. What is he going to do without Oscar here to be the unexpected voice of reason?

He waggles the sandwich under my nose.

I can smell cheese and turkey, and God, I want it so badly.

I don’t have the use of my arms, so I bite at the sandwich, my teeth clicking together with a snap when he pulls it away. I inwardly groan as Scott laughs.

I hate this. I hate playing these games with my captors. All I want is some damn food.

“Are you going to beg for it?” He looks down at me.

“Never,” I growl, but my stomach makes such a noise that we can both hear it.

“Then starve.”

“Fuck you.”

Scott leans down, making the mistake of getting too close, and instead of biting for the sandwich, I sink my teeth into his forearm.

He yelps and pulls away, but he pulls me with him because I bite even harder, tasting blood like iron on my tongue.

He shakes me like he would an annoying bug and finally, my teeth scrape off his skin, and I fall to the floor.

I hit my head, and a cut opens up above my eyebrow.

I hiss, and Scott roars, coming toward me.

I wiggle on the floor, tripping him up, and he goes down like a sack of potatoes.

I crawl and hop toward the door, hoping that Oscar is still downstairs and can’t get up here soon enough. I’m not really thinking through an escape. I just want to get out of this room, away from creepy Scott who has been withholding my food.

I make it almost to the door before Scott grabs me by the hair, yanking me back.

I dig my fingernails into the carpet, but all that happens is that my index and middle fingernails break down to the quick.

Fuck, that hurts.

I let out a feral scream and turn around, gnashing my teeth, having lost all dignity at this point. All I know is I want Scott to stop touching me. I don’t care about the food anymore. I just want him to leave me alone.

“You really are a hell cat,” he mumbles, and cuts the zip ties on my ankles, freeing my legs, which is a mistake.

I kick him in the chest, and he lets out all his breath, getting winded.

I’m trying to stand up when he grabs me again, brandishing a knife.

He puts it against my thigh. “There’s an artery right there. A big one. If you don’t want to bleed out, I suggest you shut the fuck up.”

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