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He snorts. “What did you think this was? A vacation? You’re being punished, remember?”
Cutting the conversation short, he opens the door, and I follow him inside the same bedroom he had kept me in a couple of days ago. He walks straight to the bathroom, and I hear the water running while I take in the space. It’s luxurious but simple.
Opposite me, the dark hardwood floor is covered in a huge light gray rug in front of the bed. It’s a simple king-size bed with a soft, black velvet headboard and a duvet that looks like the most comfortable thing I’ve ever wanted to bury myself in.
“This isn’t your room,” I voice out loud without looking at him. “Why not?”
“No sex before marriage, my dear bride. I need to keep you in a different room so you don’t jump me. Plus, it has everything I need.”
I round the bed, wondering what he means by everything he needs here and, as I feared, I find a chain bolted to the floor. The same chain that was attached to my ankle a few days ago.
I startle when I hear his voice right next to me again. “I won’t always put it on you,” he purrs, clearly loving the fact that he will. “Only as long as I know you need it. Then you can come sleep in my room.”
“I don’t care about your fucking room, but I don’t need the chain.” My swift reply only shows my panic, not my strength.
“We both know you do for now, little sunflower. But that’s okay, it won’t be that way forever.”
I turn to him, realizing he’s much closer than I thought. Tilting my head back, I sear my desperate gaze into his. “How long, Nate? How long are you going to make me pay?”
“How long was I in prison?”
“Practically four years,” I huff. We both know that. He didn’t need to make me repeat it.
“I guess we’ll start with four years, then. Who knows, you might be the one who decides to stay after that. Stockholm syndrome is a wonderfully complicated thing.”
I try to be discreet, but I don’t control my small step back.
“It’s okay,” he says softly. “You won’t realize it. All you’ll feel is happy and in love, and you won’t believe anyone who tells you otherwise.”
He takes hold of my wrist, pulling me with him as he makes his way to the bathroom.
“Now let’s get you cleaned up. Take a shower and I’ll get you some food up here. I’m a fair man, Kayla. I’ll give you a few days to make peace with your situation. To remember that there isn’t just a chain and locked windows that keep you in this house, but the fact that you chose your sentence and that, if you leave, those pictures will go to a judge quicker than it’ll take you to run out of this town.”
His detailed explanation makes me feel like a kid facing an adult who is trying to make them understand something for the tenth time in a row. It’s rushed, barely articulated enough to catch the words. He says them, but he’s done repeating himself.
“Now in you get.” He points at the huge shower in the corner of the room that could probably fit three to five people.
“No bath today?” I ask as I ditch the suit jacket.
“Why? Do you want me to make you come while I hold you underwater?”
He takes a step back to let me through to the shower and ends up just past the doorway.
“You didn’t make me come,” I snarl. “One could wonder if you’re even capable of it.” I slam the door in his face, not caring if this is part of the things that don’t please him.
As promised, by the time I come out, he’s brought me food. On the dresser standing opposite the bed, he put a platter with some scrambled eggs, crushed avocado, toast, and bacon.
I eye it suspiciously. “I feel like you’re about to take a picture for socials or some shit.”
“My cook, Daniel, likes to make aesthetic plates. He’s got a cooking Instagram or something. I don’t know.” He points at a silk nightgown on the bed. “This is for you. Put it on.” Then he checks his watch. “Before the end of time, if possible.”
To reward his unnecessary comment, I take as much time as I can putting the nightgown on. I drop the towel, standing naked in front of him, and lazily grab the silk before slipping it over my head.
He looks at me, unimpressed, but I pretend I don’t notice.
“Sit on the bed.”
I do, and it goes against all my instincts not to fight back when he kneels before me and wraps the cuff around my ankle. The sound of the chain skimming the floor and the edge of the bed makes me twitch.
