Page 19 of Virgin Bratva Hostage

Reluctantly, I tuck the hairpin back into my bra, maybe I’ll try again tomorrow when I’m feeling a little better.

I shift lower in the bed to wiggle beneath the blankets. I’m cold, I’m tired and I’m hungry.

All of the adrenalin has worn off and I’ve drained myself trying to pick this stupid lock.

I can feel the heat of his body near mine and I try to shift further away from him. I don’t want to be next to him.

In his sleep, he has rolled onto his back and his arm is tucked behind his head, his face is calm and pointed in my direction, his eyes are closed.

I don’t like how fucking good-looking he is, and I want to hate him—nothing else. I don’t want to be lying here admiring the shape of his muscles and his dark wavy hair, chiseled jaw and the perfectly shadowed stubble of his beard that only accentuates the line of his face even more.

He looks powerful, seductively so, he looks like he can get any woman he wants. Maybe that’s why my charm didn’t work on him. He’s used to women throwing themselves at him.

Agitation runs through me, leaving me with a sense of rejection, which is ridiculous, because why the hell should I care if he is attracted to me or not? He kidnapped me. He’s a monster.

Ugh.

I’m annoying myself just looking at him.

I’m overtired and not thinking clearly. That’s theonlyreason I’m thinking about how sexy he is.

Rolling onto my side, the only way I can get comfortable and not have my sights on him, because I’m cuffed to the bedpost—I close my eyes.

Thoughts of my family spill into my mind.

I feel terrible for what I know I’m putting them through.

By now, they’ve found out I’m missing, and they must be furious.

This is all my fault.

They will be so worried, frantic and searching.

I’m the reason they feel like shit right now.

I’m causing them so much stress—and wasting their time. If only I had listened.

Tears run silently over my cheeks and soak into the pillow.

Tomorrow is a whole new day. I will find a way out of here.

I take a slow breath, doing my best to relax. It’s going to be ok.

Sleep finds me a lot easier than I expect it to. My body easily letting go and drifting off because it’s been through so much today.

***

In the morning, the room is bright and feels cozy and warm. But I am awake and alert and fully aware of where I am as soon as I open my eyes.

I turn very slowly towards him to see if he’s awake yet—and he isn’t.

Yes.

This is brilliant.

Because last night, just before I fell asleep, somewhere between dreams and reality, I realize that hemusthave the key in one of his pockets.

I just have to find it.

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