Page 9 of Ruthless Vengeance
The cold has settled deep in my bones, making my limbs stiff and my fingers numb. My stomach cramps with hunger, and my throat is raw from thirst.
The one silver lining is that my lack of water intake has meant I’m yet to use the bucket, though somehow the room still smells of urine.
The only sound is that of my own breathing, uneven and shallow, and the occasional distant thud of footsteps beyond the door.
I lie down on the lumpy mattress in the hopes of sleeping to give me some reprieve from this nightmare, but I’m scared to close my eyes.
Ben hasn’t been back, and I’m starting to wonder if I hallucinated the entire thing.
The fact that Tommaso helped him escape from prison makes me sick to my stomach. Surely, prison is better than being in debt to a man like Tommaso?
The sound of footsteps approaching pulls me out of my thoughts.
I try to hold back the tears as the door unlocks, knowing whoever is on the other side is likely not here to save me.
When the door opens and the room floods with light, I flinch at the sight of my brother.
He looks just as pissed as he did earlier, though the one difference is that this time, he’s brought something with him.
Ben stalks inside the cell carrying a small plastic bag.
I eye it warily and when he tosses it onto the mattress beside me, I flinch as if a grenade were inside.
“Eat.”
I inhale and hold back a moan at the scent of greasy food.
It smells amazing, and my stomach clenches painfully, but I make no move to reach for the food. Not when I don’t trust him not to poison it.
Ben sees my hesitation and rolls his eyes. “I’m not going to fucking drug you, Clara.”
Does he really expect me to believe him?
When I still don’t reach for the food, he lets out an irritated sigh and grabs the bag back and pulls out a sandwich.
He unwraps it and without hesitation, takes a bite.
I watch him closely to make sure he swallows it just to be safe.
“There, happy?” He tosses the sandwich at me.
I am anything but happy, but my stomach aches with hunger, so I snatch the sandwich and tear into it like an animal.
I don’t have it in me to feel embarrassed about how disgusting and unladylike I must look, not when I haven’t eaten in what feels like days.
I keep my eyes on Ben as I eat, trying to understand his plan.
He’s had two opportunities now to kill me, and yet he hasn’t. Instead, he brought me food, which I have a feeling goes against Tommaso’s orders.
There has to be a reason, and I have a feeling it’s not a good one.
“Just ask.” Ben leans against the wall of the cell, folding his arms over his chest.
He’s wearing a tight-fitting black t-shirt which shows off his muscular arms and shoulders, and dark jeans. Other than the short hair, he doesn’t look like someone who just escaped from a federal prison.
“What are you doing?”
He raises his eyebrows at me. “Nothing?”
