Page 34 of Russian Roulette
18
JADE
When I hear Kit leave the bedroom, I open my eyes and stretch. Each time he cracked open the door and peeked in on me, I pretended to be sound asleep. Every hour, on the hour, Kit checked in to make sure his prisoner hadn’t escaped.
When he stroked my hair and brushed it back from my face, I struggled to keep my eyes closed. His gentle touch surprised me after our fiery kiss, and I was curious to discover what he would do next.
Kit is conflicted over my presence here. He’s not completely onboard with the kidnapping. As I suspected from the start, he’s the weak link of the three men, and I can exploit that to my advantage.
Feeling rejuvenated from my nap, I jump out of bed and head to the bathroom. I’m grateful for the hairbrush Kit thoughtfully provided. My long, black hair is a mess. After brushing out the tangles, I pull it back into a ponytail and splash cold water on my face. My skin is clear and smooth, without a trace of makeup.
Kit’s shirt is enormous, and Seven’s sweatpants are constantly on the verge of dropping around my ankles. I frown and tighten the drawstring, but they’re still loose and barely hanging on. I adjust the drawstring as much as possible, knowing the guys would love it if I accidentally flashed my ass at them.
I desperately need my own clothes, my car and, more importantly, my computer. My computer is my lifeline, my connection to the outside world and the tool that I use to make a living. Without it, I’m lost.
The ratty hotel room I reserved on the outskirts of Vegas is only prepaid for a few days. I didn’t provide the front desk with a credit card to hold the room longer because I wanted to avoid being tracked by the Russians. If I don’t retrieve my belongings soon, they’ll be sold, if they haven’t been already.
My computer is securely backed up to the cloud, but I still hate the thought of another hacker breaking into it. No computer in this world is completely secure. That’s why I back up everything to multiple cloud accounts daily without fail.
“Hey Jade!” Kit calls from outside the bedroom door. “Are you up? I told you I’d be back in five minutes.”
“Yes, I’m awake,” I respond loudly. “I’ll be out in a second.” True to his word, Kit returned to wake me in five minutes, right on the dot. I suspect Kit is a man who always keeps his promises. Not a bad quality in today’s world. To know you can rely on someone to do what they say.
Where the hell did that thought come from?
These men are nothing to me except my captors. I certainly can’t count on them for anything helpful. Not even the incredibly desirable, detail-oriented, and punctual Kit.
Moments later, I enter the spacious kitchen to find the other men have already arrived. They sit on wooden benches along both sides of a long, oak dining table, reminding me of the tables at a faux German biergarten where I once worked to fund a semester of college.
Several large, open pizza boxes are spread across the table, and the enticing scent of hot pepperoni makes my mouth water. I haven’t eaten since the protein drink this morning, which I wouldn’t consider a meal.
The men are all joking and laughing, creating a welcoming, warm and homey atmosphere, almost like a big family. When they notice me entering the kitchen, their eyes lock on me, and the conversation abruptly halts.
“What’s going on?” I ask. “Did I interrupt something? Don’t stop talking on my account.”
Seven rises from the table to greet me. He’s devastatingly handsome as always, dressed impeccably in dark pants, a white shirt and black blazer. His sandy-blonde hair is perfectly styled, and his striking green eyes contrast with his tanned skin.
“Hey!” he exclaims. “How are you?” He greets me as if it’s normal to keep a woman prisoner in a house surrounded by tigers.
“Seriously, Seven?” I fold my arms and roll my eyes at him. “You’re asking me how I’m doing? How do you think I’m doing after the past twenty-four hours? Cut out the fake, polite crap with me, okay? I’m starving, and I don’t want to play games with any of you right now. Can I have a slice of pizza, please?”
“Of course.” Seven hastily steps aside and waves me over to the table. “Where are my manners? I put Leroy in charge of the food, and he ordered one of every pizza on the menu. We brought several kinds, in case you’re picky.”
“I’m not.” I head to the table and flip open the top of the nearest pizza box. “Double meat, extra pepperoni and cheese?” I ask, and Seven confirms with a nod. “I assume this one isn’t for you, Kit.” He sits at the other end of the table, quietly observing me. “What are you having? Do you even eat pizza?”
Kit hands me a paper plate and napkins from across the table. “They brought a vegetarian pizza for me. I’m willing to share if you want to try it.”
“Thanks, but no thanks.” I grab a slice of the double pepperoni pizza with extra cheese and take a big bite before placing it on my plate. “Ouch! This is steaming hot. I think I burned my lip on the cheese.” As I stick my tongue out to soothe my scorched lip, they all stare hungrily at me like they’ve never seen a woman eat before.
“I told you I’m starving,” I mumble between bites. “Would you all please stop staring at me? It’s making me self-conscious.”
“Don’t choke,” Vulcan warns, narrowing his eyes. “You’re wolfing it down too fast. There’s plenty of food, so you don’t need to eat as if it’s your last meal.” He stands near the table, wearing the same faded jeans and solid black T-shirt from this morning. The shirt does little to hide his ripped muscles and tatted arms.
“You mean it’s not?” I ask, giving him a sideways glance. “Not that I’d complain if this pizza was my last meal. It’s that delicious and I’m starving.”
Noting their scrutiny, I slow down for my next bite. Eating too fast has always been a bad habit. There were times in my childhood when there wasn’t enough food to go around.
Foster parents often do the bare minimum for the kids they take in. Mine was no exception. I learned to eat quickly when food was offered or go hungry. Vulcan’s dark eyes watch me, almost as if he senses why I’m gulping the food.
