Page 20 of Beautifully Forgiven

I sit on the bed, my legs crossed under me while I watch Jacob busy himself packing things up.

Once he's done, he walks back over and lifts my chin to look into my eyes. I see him fighting with himself.

“Are you going to behave, Savannah?”

“Yes.” I nod frantically.

“You promise?”

“I swear I won’t do anything.” The way he looks over me as if he’s questioning his better judgment, makes me almost cry out with joy. “Please leave them off.” I want to cry out. One I can handle but not all of them.

He caresses my cheek, and his thumb slips over my lip again as he stares down at my mouth. I watch his eyes dart over them and then back to my eyes as his thumb goes back and forth pulling it down and letting it pop back up as he lets go.

He wants to kiss me?

“I’m going to leave the one on. Don’t make me regret it, Savannah,” he says, lifting one of the chains in front of me to make sure I get the memo.If I disobey, they all go back on.

“I won't, I promise,” I whimper slightly as his hand travels down and covers my neck.

“I promise you won’t like what I’ll do if you disobey me.” The threat in his voice is enough to make my skin crawl.

I want to say, I know, but I just nod and wait for him to drop his hand and move away.

“Your punishment for running is no food for a day.” My stomach chooses that moment to grumble.

That's not so bad, right? I can do that. It’s better than a much worse punishment.

“Just remember, kitten, if you run, I’ll always catch you. Your heart will always be mine, even if I have to cut it out.”

Jacob leaves me, and I hear the telltale sound of the locks clicking in place. I sigh with what feels like my first real breath in days. My wrists are red and cut slightly and so painful, my ankles aren’t any better, he wants me to suffer. My back is torn up. I don't have to see that to know, it hurts so badly it’s the worst pain I’ve ever known.

I don’t know how to take Jacob. One minute he’s so cold it’s like he’s the devil himself. Then he feels hot in the fact that he seems to care enough to take care of my needs like when he massaged my sore joints and washed me despite me running through the woods and making him chase me. I mean, what kidnapper cares if I have a few bumps or bruises, let alone sore joints from being locked up or cut because the chains he’s tied me up with have dug into my skin, breaking layers, and leaving it red and raw.

I move around the room as much as I can for the second time since being held here. I'm not snooping per se, more like wondering who the hell this Jacob guy is and trying to find any sort of weapon.

My brain tells me I know him well enough, and maybe he isn’t as bad as I think. But the rest of me says to stay as far away as possible. He’s bad news, it’s like my senses are on high alert all because Jacob stole me in the middle of the night from my home and won’t tell me why I’m here. Who am I kidding? Of course that’s why I'm on edge. The man is an enigma. The only way I'm going to figure out how I know him is to get him talking. I'm sure he’ll reveal something about himself, well, enough for my brain to finally click and be at ease a little.

If I fight him and try to escape again, could I suffer the consequences if he catches me?

Either way, I'm screwed, right?

My throat tightens at the prospect of how long he’s willing to keep me.

This man has me for a reason. He’s not going to give me up willingly.

I do know one thing for sure.

Whatever my father did was clearly evil.

I know he’s not the saint I make him out to be, but underneath he’s not a bad man.

Is he?

God, now I’m second-guessing my own father. I think I’m already losing it, and no one can help me, not even the most powerful man I know.

I runmy hand through my hair and tug it a little, fighting with myself on how to handle her as this situation has become more. She’s fighting me at every turn. It’s like she wants me to kill her, torture her, when I try to fucking make her listen.

My little kitten is testing me, and she knows just what she does to me.

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