Page 27 of Bound to a Killer
“You need to eat something,” he says casually, reaching for the square packet that was left on the stool from yesterday.
Hunger pangs slice through my stomach lining as I zero in on the packet that’s now in his hands. My throat bobs as I tear my eyes away from it, only to shoot daggers at him. It’s the only thing I can do. I’d rather starve than accept anything else from him from this day forward.
Indifferent to my nasty glances, he tears the wrapper withthe sharp edge of his teeth, then pulls out a perfectly round sandwich and dangles it in front of me like I’m some starving zoo animal, expecting me to nibble it off his fingers then thank him for it. I’d snatch it out of his hand to stomp on it if I could.
He raises a thick brow. “You’re not allergic to peanut butter, are you?”
“I’m not hungry,” I lie through my clenched teeth.
Another loud rumble betrays me, and the corners of his mouth twitch. “Come on, don’t be stubborn and eat it. Nothing good’ll come out of you starving yourself.”
“I don’t want it.”
My sharp tone wipes away the smugness on his face. He doesn’t like to be challenged, it seems. Unfortunately for him, he’ll have to deal with the fact that he messed with the wrong girl.
“I’m not going to argue with you,” he grits out. “Eat. It. Now.” He hovers it over my thinning lips.
I whip my head to the side. “I’m not your damn pet. If you want me to eat, then you’ll have to force my fucking jaw open yourself.”
The swear word feels foreign on my tongue, sending waves of terror through me, but I feign indifference, even as I catch the harsh scowl carved across his face from my periphery. If looks could kill, I’d already be a corpse.
Despite his hard glare, his tone remains low and controlled. “If you were my pet, you’d be much more obedient. Should I train you to behave like one?”
My eyes begin to well, and my chest grows heavy, but I resist caving to the tears threatening to spill across my blanching face. I’ve done enough of that already. I don’t want to go down as a weeping, pathetic mess in the end. I won’t let myself. I have to stay strong if I want to hold onto any kind of hope at getting out of here, but his ruthless thirst for dominance keeps chipping away at my resistance.
Odds are, my fate won’t be any more or less special than the countless unfortunate souls before me. The more I spiral, the more I confirm that truth to both of us.
So with great reluctance, I open my mouth to accept the cold sandwich that’s wedged between my trembling lips, and take a frustrated bite out of it. The saltiness of my tears mingle with the savory peanut butter, and my stupid stomach cheers with joy as I force each hateful bite past the tightness in my throat.
I snap my eyes shut to avoid having to see him, resentment building as I try to fight back the tears. “You win, again. Happy now?”
He’s quiet as I finish the last of the soggy toast. My eyes remain shut.
Finally, he sighs through his nose as I angle my head away from him, resisting the only way I know how as I center my focus on the mattress, fingers twitching behind my back.
He exhales, still standing over me. “I’m sorry.”
Then he turns on his heels to leave me drowning in my own helplessness.
Somehow, his apology only deepens the ache lodged in my chest.
Hours slip by,although without a clock, I can’t tell how many, only that the sun through the window has dimmed, signifying the start of the evening.
Not a word is spoken between us.
In a way, it feels like his silence is supposed to be a form of punishment for my earlier stunt, as if I’m the one who was in the wrong, not him for abducting me. Still, his refusal to acknowledge me drives me with rage. And now, an entire dayhas passed, and I’m no closer to figuring out what’s next from here.
Chained at his side, bound to wherever the hell we are, there is nothing I can do but give in to him.
What good did lashing out even do for me, besides a fleeting sense of triumph that evaporated faster than I could blink beneath his stoic indifference? Now I’m left to stew in my own head, my thoughts spiraling toward what feels like my inevitable doom.
He promised he wouldn’t hurt me, but if I keep pushing him, he’ll eventually snap. Do I really want that?
I’m at a complete disadvantage, and we both know it.
He doesn’t need me like I need him.
Even when he untied me so I could use the bathroom on my own, I knew I was no match for him. Not while he was awake and alert. Let’s face it, I blew my only shot at escape.
