Page 41 of Taking

Where are you?

With Addilyn, I texted back.

The phone rang, but I didn’t pick up.

Lloyd: Answer the goddamn phone.

Me: No.

Lloyd: You’ve had your time with her. Tell me where you are so I can finish this.

Me: She hasn’t broken yet.

Lloyd: Then up your game. Time is dwindling. If it’s money you want, let me know how much. It’s yours.

I snorted. The days drew short for him. I had all I wanted and then some. As for the cash, I didn’t need a goddamn thing from him except revenge. I’ll be in touch.

I turned off my cell and sat in silence, eyeing the rich snob on the camera who’d shown her pretentious nature enough that I’d messed up.

Her sass and her demands didn’t turn me on like they’d used to—she’d pissed me the fuck off, and I’d lost the tight control I held over my emotions. Seeing that glimpse of the old Addilyn, the one I’d lusted for…

Fuck. I scrubbed a hand over my face, scratching at the few days’ worth of scruff along my jawline.

So, what to do?

I’d planned to wreck her, but with how peaceful she seemed after finding out her captor was her sick stepbrother… Like she didn’t hate or fear me. Like she could rest even knowing her circumstances as my captive. Like she believed I had zero intentions of hurting her.

“Fuck.”

The tangle of emotions, the push/pull that had always existed between us made me antsy. I got up and heated up a large can of beef stew, all the while going back to the iPad to watch her sleep.

Like a goddamn baby.

I hadn’t terrorized her nearly enough. Hadn’t come close to breaking her. Her resolve, her strength hadn’t diminished except for making her lethargic upon waking.

The shower had given her new life.

Time for me to steal it away.

Mask in place, I walked into her room, and she sat, blinking. Ignoring her, I retrieved her breakfast tray and stalked back out, slamming and locking the door before she could breathe a word.

No dinner.

No extra water or tea.

Not a goddamn thing.

My way of letting the little princess know she’d eat what she was offered and when—or she could fucking starve. The rich, spoiled bitch deserved to go without for a change, same as I’d done for five long as fuck years.

Flicking off her light from outside of the room, I expected a grin to stretch my lips. So why the fuck did my stomach twist? Why did I scowl when I once more found her lying down—and fucking smiling?

“The fuck?” I yanked the old camera screen closer to my face, staring at the live feed.

A soft upward curve of her lips suggested pleasure.

My brain buzzed as I tried to figure her out.

Lloyd had told me she hated me and had planned along with her mother to have me tossed into the slammer for statutory rape. It’d been her testimony that got me locked up for five years…so what the fuck?

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