Page 14 of A Pawn in the Game
“I know how long your shift is. I’m the one who set it. And I’m telling you you’re done here.”
He dips his head before getting up and leaving. I drop the bag on the bed and slump down onto the couch. Her loud wails turned into soft sobs, and I’m not sure if it’s better or worse.
Taking a long swig from the bottle, I scrunch my face and take my boots off, lifting my feet on the couch. Leon is the suit guy. I’m the guy in combat boots and black tactical gear. He’s the guy you do business with. I’m the last guy you see before you die.
CHAPTER 9
Sophie
Every morning, just before I wake up, I imagine I’m home, Alan jumping on the bed, his tail wagging with excitement. But as soon as I feel the pounding in my head and the empty pit of my stomach, reality hits me like a ton of bricks.
Home, sweet home, I guess.
My arms are free, at least. Did they forget to cuff me back yesterday? I open my eyes, rubbing the sleep out of them, only to realize there’s a new man sitting on the couch.How many guards do they have?His dark hair is buzz cut, accentuating the sharp lines of his face. Even in a black t-shirt and dark, worn jeans, he’s an imposing figure.
My chin bows, hopefully conveying a silent agreement.You won’t bother me, and I won’t bother you.He nods in return, and there’s a slight pang of something appearing in my chest. Hope, maybe?
I also notice the wooden cross is gone, as well as the metal cage, lowering the room’s creep factor drastically. It almost looks normal now, except the bed is the largest one I’ve ever seen and I’m pretty sure the couch is positioned to have a direct view of the bed.
I do my thing in the bathroom, swishing some mouthwash that sits on the sink, desperately hoping for a toothbrush. I haven’t eaten in days, but if I had my choice of vegan meals for the rest of my time here or a toothbrush, I’d pick the toothbrush.
On the way out of the bathroom, I register two bags on the bed. One hosts a takeout container, while the other one hosts some books. I eye the unfamiliar bag with suspicion while opening the takeout container.
Ham omelette.
My stomach rumbles and I sigh, pushing the food away. To keep my mind off the hunger, I grab the second bag, finding three books and a chess set inside.
The books are old and musty, and it’s obvious they haven’t been taken care of in a long time.
Who the hell doesn’t take care of their books?
I flip them over, removing a thick layer of dust.The Story of O,Different Loving,SM101. A quick sweep of the first few pages shows these books are actually old and all of them depict BDSM. At least what BDSM was like that long ago.
My mouth scrunches in disgust. It would be weird, reading these books while being held captive in a sex dungeon. I rather focus on the chess set, which is equally dusty, and equally old.
Other than that, it’s beautiful. I head to the bathroom, ignoring the focused gaze of the guard, and wet a paper towel to clean it. I spread the set out on the bed, carefully removing the dust from every piece. It takes me a while, but it helps distract me from other things. Like the acid in my stomach, eating its own lining. Or the grief of not knowing where Alan is. Or the minor fact I’m kidnapped.
Just as I get to the black king piece, a giant barges into the room.
“Why the hell aren’t you eating?”Boss-man.
His black t-shirt showcases his arms, who are almost as black as the shirt, ink covering every inch of them. His eyes are filled with rage, his fists clenched at his sides. He’s a terrifyingsight.
“I-I…” I stutter.
“Is this some kind of trick? You’re on a hunger strike? Hoping we’ll grow soft and let you walk?”
He stalks toward me, and I scoot into the furthest corner of the bed. Unless I can crawl through the bullet hole from yesterday, there’s nowhere for me to go.
“This isn’t a game,” he bites out, crossing his arms over his chest.
I nod, frantically. “I-I know. It’s not a game.”
“Then what the hell is it? Because Iwillforce feed you if it comes to it.”
“I’m v-vegan.”
I’m not even sure a sound escaped my mouth, but he huffs, staring at me like he needs time to process. Finally, he drops his hands to the side and leaves the room, muttering to himself, “What the hell do vegans eat?”
