Page 34 of His

“You didn’t answer my question,” I insisted. “Can I have something else?”

“What?”

He hadn’t agreed, but I blustered ahead anyway. If this was a game of fair trade, I was going to get my share of the bargain.

“Something to wear,” I said. “It’s cold down here in my underwear.”

He didn’t even pause for a second at my request. Immediately, he stripped his t-shirt off and threw it down at me. I saw his broad shoulders in silhouette, his bare chest gleaming in the dim light. Blood rushed to my cheeks and I looked down at his shirt quickly, grasping the soft fabric in my fingers.

“You won’t fit into my pants,” he said. “We’ll find you something else to wear later. For now, will that do?”

I nodded and pulled the shirt over my head. It smelled like him—a faint scent of deodorant and musk. The shirt was tight across my chest, but I was grateful to be covered up at all.

“Good trade, kitten,” he said, and left me sitting in his shirt on the basement floor.

Gav

A good pet. She was learning to be obedient. Maybe soon she would learn to obey more, to be mine fully and truly. Maybe I would convince her that staying inside was for the best.

Later that evening, I brought her up to the bedroom again for her to use the bathroom. I would have to convince her to stay of her own accord, or else I would forever be distracted by her needs. As of now, she was like a pet that needed constant looking after.

Cats, at least, were independent creatures, but I had to watch over her for every one of her physical needs. And tonight… I needed to find something for her to wear. Not just a shirt. The soft curves of her backside peeking out from under the bottom hem made me stir inside in a way that even her bare undergarments hadn’t.

And she would have to wash soon.

The shadow hadn’t come around yet. It normally stayed away for a few days after a kill, but I hadn’t even thought about it since she had come to the house.

Caring about her was starting to distract me.

Kat

He let me up into the bathroom again, and I made sure to lock the door behind me. In the bathroom, I scrounged around and found what I had been searching for earlier. There was a spare razor blade at the back of a cabinet drawer, hiding in the pine board gap. It was old and rusted, but it would serve its purpose.

He could think that I was an obedient little pet, but I wasn’t going to let his game get between me and freedom. As stupid as I’d been before, I wasn’t going to be stupid now that I was in real trouble.

Chickenshit. Boring. I was not that person. Not anymore. I wasn’t going to wait here for a Prince Charming to come save me from this monster. I was going to save myself. That’s what Jules would do. That’s what I needed to do.

If he didn’t know what he was going to do with me, I’d have to figure out how to escape before he decided to use me as a torture experiment.

I used the rusty edge of the razor to slit open the side of my bra and tucked it through the slit carefully, between the padding and the wire. I pulled his shirt back over my head and looked in the mirror. You couldn’t see the outline of the razor; the padding of the bra hid it well.

If I had to use it, I would. On him or on me.

Preferably on him.

CHAPTER TEN

Kat

I opened my eyes, lying on the basement floor. The blanket was bunched under my neck and my arm was still handcuffed to the pipe. My ankle twinged slightly with pain, and the only rays of light that came into the room were from under the basement door.

It was my birthday.

The meds had worn off, and I didn’t know how long I’d been out. Anxiety surged through me, and as I sat up my arm twisted and hurt. He’d said he was going out, and that’s why he had to cuff me. My wrist screamed in pain, and as much as I tried to do my deep breathing, nothing was working to stop my nerves from shooting panic signals across my brain.

I raised my head as Gav opened the door, half relieved to see him, half terrified. He had a bowl of something in his hands, and I smelled the oatmeal as he crossed the room. I lifted my arm weakly.

“My wrist hurts,” I said. “Take off the handcuffs.”

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