Page 87 of Heathens

Duncan Towers

I’vebeenfightingagainstmy restraints for what feels like hours, trying to figure out a way to loosen the knots so I can get beyond step one of my escape plan. Sure, so far it only really has two steps, but you have to start somewhere.

If Dominic had given me the time that I asked for in the first place, I wouldn’t be strapped to a goddamn bed like I’m waiting for a priest to walk through the door and give me an exorcism. Hell, maybe we’d be in the middle of another wild fucking session. I’d take anything over this.

Still, while I’ve been trying to figure out a way to escape this hellhole, Ihavepinned down a weakness I can exploit.

He said this building was empty, that heintendedto fill it with vampires and make it an apartment complex, but that it’s currently just used for storage.That means that this building has security flaws. It’s structured for individual private homes and not built like an impenetrable fortress. He bragged about his state-of-the-art security system, but I didn’t see him reset an alarm when we reached the penthouse. There weren’t more than the normal amount of locks. There didn’t even seem to be any cameras.

Dominic Duncan is full of shit, and I’m going to use that to my advantage. I just have to turn this around and make him think that I’m falling in love with him all over again. It’s got to be quick enough that he doesn’t escalate his plan, but not so quick that he sees through it.

As if on cue, the door opens, and he steps in with two plates of food balanced on one arm. I smell steak mingling with charcoal. I think this might be all he knows how to cook. It’s a lot less romantic than the first time.

“Are you going to behave and keep your voice down?” Dominic asks.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” I snipe. “Is my current predicament a pain in your ass?”

Shit. This whole being sweet and complacent thing might be harder than I thought.

“I’m going to untie your hands so you can eat, alright?”

“Oh, what a shame. I was hoping you’d feed me each piece and make this a little romantic getaway.”

Dominic glowers at me, his brows scrunched together. Is that guilt on his face? I swear I can see it, smell it permeating the room like a stench he’s desperate to get rid of.

“Sofie, I didn’t have a choice.”

“Yes, you did, and we both know it.”

“I don’t want to fight.”

Is this asshole seriously treating this like we’re a married couple getting into a spat before bed? I want to go another round, but unfortunately the smell of food hits my nostrils again and my stomach betrays me, rumbling like an impatient lion. Dominic smirks.

“You’re hungry.”

“No shit,” I spit back.

He sets the plates down on the nightstand and sits next to me, reaching over to brush my hair away from my face. It’s hard to resist the urge to bite at him, but I let him have the moment.

“You’ve got a cut on your forehead,” he murmurs, biting into his thumb and pressing it to my skin. I wince.

“I think that’s probably your fault.”

“It’s like I said. I didn’t have a choice.”

My stomach is clenching, twisting in frustration, but I say nothing. No retort, no clever comeback. Right now, I just want to fucking eat. I stare up at him, a helpless look on my face.

“I thought you were going to untie my arms.”

He tips my chin upward, brushing my bottom lip with the pad of his finger.

“Promise me you’ll be good.”

“I promise.”

The words hit him just right, his eyes flickering.

“What else?”

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