Page 40 of Cruel Pawn
“Very evocative language,” he remarked, light flashing in his dark eyes as he scrolled through pages ofsomethingon his laptop. The urge to know what it was burned, itched, scratched at me until I was irritated too. Like she could sense it, Aegi gave me a glare from the chair where she was curled into a croissant-like pose. She made sure I saw her flex her paws, flashing those razor-sharp claws.
Caught in a staring match, we both jumped when Arden shut his laptop with a crack and stood, slipping his phone into the pocket of his trousers. No sweatpants today. No shirtlessness either. It set me on edge. Something was different, things had changed, and I didn’t know what.
Call me paranoid, but being chained up 24/7 will do that to a girl. Being at the whim and mercy of my captor didn’t make me feel all warm and fuzzy when he did a 360 and got a new personality overnight.
“Be right back,” he said, and headed for the door.
“Hey!” I surged to my feet, but I was smart enough not to run at the door this time. I’d learned the hard way my chains endedtwo feet before them. “Arden, you bastard!” I yelled when he strode outside, disappearing from view. He left the door open, though. He wouldn’t do that if he wasn’t coming back. Right?
I eyed the door, then the cat as she arched her back in a languid stretch. He might leave me, but he’d never leave that menace behind. Especially with the door open.
My suspicions were confirmed when he returned a few minutes later with two heavy-looking bags of shopping in his hands.
“You could have told me you were only going to meet a delivery driver,” I muttered, my arms crossed over my chest. I wore yet another of Arden’s T-shirts, and of course no underwear. Meanwhile this bastard was fully dressed in trousers, a smart black shirt with the fucking sleeves rolled up—howdarehe—and shiny dress shoes. Like he was going to a meeting, or maybe due in court.
That, combined with his shitty mood and the fact he was now silently stocking the fridge, filling it to the brim, made my hackles rise. The back of my neck tingled.
“You can’t just leave me here,” I spat, stalking into the kitchen because Icouldreach him there. I drove a finger into his kidney and hoped it hurt. “Where the fuck are you going?”
“Just a little errand to do,” he replied in a stranger’s voice. Empty and cold and so unlike him, goosebumps sprang onto my arms. I rubbed them, staring as he pressed the green plastic bags flat, folded them into neat squares, and stored them in a drawer.
“Arden.” I caught his arm as he turned away, forcing him to stop. “What the hell is going on?”
“Nothing you need to worry about, my opera,” he promised, thawing enough to guide me closer, his lips finding my temple in a brief kiss. Too brief. The cold returned when he pulled away and crossed the cottage, grabbing a black holdall from under the bed I was chained to. It said something about the fucked-upstate of my life that I was relieved to hear that name again, even if the rattle of metal inside the bag made me straighten, alert.
“You can’t just leave me here,” I warned, my voice dropping to a low growl that usually meant death was near. I positioned myself in his path, blocking the door even if I couldn’t get close to the exit. I could take him down. Just because I didn’t win our last fight didn’t mean I’d lose this one. “You don’t get to kidnap me, chain me up here, then just fuckingleave!”
Arden sighed, the bag thrown over his shoulder. He came close, evading the messy punch I threw his way, the rattle of chains a violent declaration as he swept me into an unwilling hug. I dug my fingers into his skin, punched and scratched, but he didn’t budge, didn’t back down. He held me for the long minutes it took me to realise this wasn’t working.
“Are you done?”
I jerked my head forward and bit the vulnerable place where his neck met his shoulder, gnashing my teeth until I drew blood. “Never.”
“It’s only for a few days,” he said, trying to placate me, although his voice never quite achieved the sweet softness I was used to.
I realised what that strangeness was, the thing that made all my fine hairs stand on end. A lack of emotion. Arden usually overflowed with emotion, bled it from every damn orifice, spewed words of adoration at every moment. His eyes glittered with delight, his face cracked amused smiles or even seethed with the rare moments of dark jealousy, possession, and rage. He burned hot, but right now he was as cold as a glacier.
“A few days!” I wrenched my head back, ready to bite the other side of his shoulder, but his hand shot out and gripped my throat. My breath cut off even though he only gripped the sides of my neck. This was the cold, impassioned grip of a killer, and I froze like a rabbit in headlights.
“I have something important to do,” he said in that flat voice, though I thought he tried to inject some warmth into it as he scanned my face. “I extended your chains so you can reach the kitchen, the bathroom, and all other areas of the cottage.”
Just not the door.I opened my mouth to snarl that, but his hand slid higher, flattening over my mouth. It was an inappropriate time for a shot of heat to lance my clit, making it throb once, hard.
“Be a good girl. Stay here and take care of yourself, don’t try to escape, and I’ll bring you a present.”
With his hand still muffling my mouth, he pressed a rough kiss to my forehead, utterly ignoring my glare. Be a good fucking girl and just sit here twiddling my thumbs whilehe leftforthree fucking days.Not happening.
“You can try to escape,” he sighed, seeing it in my eyes, “but there’s no way out, my opera. You’ll only hurt yourself.” Another kiss, this time to the bridge of my nose. “There’s food in the fridge. Remember to eat three meals a day. And I left instructions for Aegi’s meals. This would be a good time for you two to bond. You can have a movie marathon; I rented you the complete Lord of the Rings series. Aegi loves Legolas, sooohandaahover him when he’s on screen and you’ll be besties in no time.”
It was eerie, hearing Arden’s words coming out of that cold mouth, attached to that unfeeling face. The truth slapped me around the face, and I recoiled. I’d gotten used to Arden’s bright, explosive happiness, his endless enthusiasm. It had started to feel familiar, comforting, because this barren cold was the exact opposite. Unsettling.
Anxiety buzzed through my body, setting my teeth on edge.
“Fine,” I muttered through his hand. “Go. But I won’t be here when you get back.”
“Yes, you will.” He hiked the bag higher and stepped around me, strolling casually towards the door. I gave him a second, then threw myself after him, driving my feet into the floor to propel me into the air. I landed on his back with an arm around his throat, the other sending the bag to the floor.
“I don’t have time for foreplay right now, Priya,” he muttered, stepping around the bag—the suspiciously heavy bag— and angling his back towards the sofa. He pushed my arm from his throat with stunning ease, but I tightened my thighs, refusing to let go even as my back hit the plush cushions of the sofa. Part of me registered that even unfeeling and harsh, he still avoided hurting me.
