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“Show me,” he says, and I stare at him, confused.

“Come here and show me,” he says, waving me forward.

I step toward him, and he reaches out, jerking me to him before pinching my cheeks.

“Lift your tongue,” he says and goes on to examine my mouth.

“You make me so happy,” he says, letting my face go.

I nod, and he pulls me closer, hugging me.

“Want me to get a hot water bottle for your cramps?” he asks.

I almost ask him what cramps, when I realize I told him that. I nod against his chest, and he kisses my hair.

“Go hop in bed. I will bring you breakfast,” he says, gripping my chin and making me look up at him.

His eyes sparkle back at me, crinkling around the edges as he smiles down at me.

“I love you,” he tells me.

I say nothing when he kisses me gently on the side of the mouth.

“I know you love me too. It will get easier once you settle in, and you will realize I am right for you, Ada. You will see how good for you I am.”

I nod, pulling away when he pulls me back to him. He grabs my breast through his shirt, squeezing it, his other hand squeezing my naked ass under his shirt. He kisses me again, but this time, forcing his tongue in my mouth, his kisses becoming harder, almost bruising. I realize he is trying to get me to kiss him back.

His grip on my body hurts as his fingers bruise my breast. I kiss him back, and he groans, pressing himself against me, and I can feel his erection digging into my stomach. He suddenly lets go, pulling back.

“Go hop back in bed where it’s warm,” he says, slapping my ass.

I have to force myself to walk slowly from the room when all I want to do is run.

Sam comes in around half an hour later. I can smell bacon and eggs and fried tomatoes. He brings in a tray and places it on my lap, a hot water bottle tucked under his arm. He pulls the blankets back and places the hot water bottle behind my back.

“Better?” he asks, and I nod.

I look down at the tray, hoping there would be a knife or even a fork, something I could maybe hide to help me. Sam pulls a knife and fork from his back pocket before sitting next to me. He doesn’t hand them to me. Instead, he starts cutting everything up into bite-size pieces. I watch him, and he seems calm and almost relaxed despite the strange scenario he has me in. He then hand-feeds me.

“I can do it myself,” I whisper to him, grabbing his hand as he brings the fork to my lips.

“No, I will do it. Ada, open your mouth. You don’t want to make me mad, do you? I don’t want to have to punish you,” he says, brushing a piece of hair behind my ear that has escaped the braid.

He cups my cheek with his hand, his thumb brushing over my bottom lip and tugging it down.

I open my mouth, and he puts the fork in my mouth. I chew slowly. He seems happy and smiles, happy that I’ve done what he’s asked.

I try to just eat with my fingers, not like this weird intimate moment of him feeding me, but he slaps my hands. I try to tell him I am halfway through it, but he gets mad, telling me I have to eat everything. The knife in his hand starts shaking, scratching my hand and causing it to bleed, and I nod, letting him feed me. When he is done, he walks out before returning with a syringe. I jump up, rushing across the bed, trying to escape him. He reaches for me, lunging across the bed, and I dart out of the room, running for the front door. I grab it and almost yanked my shoulder out, but the door is locked. I realize there are multiple locks on the door before I feel his body slam against mine, forcing the air to leave my lungs.

“I really wish you hadn’t done that,” he says, stabbing the needle in my arm.

He steps back, and I turn, my hand going to my arm before I clutch the door handle, the entire room spinning and my legs giving out. I remember seeing the roof as I crash to the ground before Sam stands above me.

He clicks his tongue, looking down at me.

“Why do you have to be difficult?” he says, shaking his head before bending down.

He picks my limp body off the ground just as darkness takes over.