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The rope in his hand restricted some of my hope.
He strode through the room, his long gait making a direct path to me. Black fatigues hung loose and low on his narrow hips, his chest bare, the cage of his ribs visible along the sides of his abs. Were they not feeding him? Or was he somehow refusing to eat?
The steep ridges of his torso jutted against his stretched skin, as if dehydration had severely cut away his honed physique. He was still beautifully built, but his body was harder, sharper, like his muscles had been replaced with razor-edged steel parts.
My thoughts leapt to Elaine, torturing me with images of her fingers tracing those lethal edges, her hands and body violating him while he lay in her bed, unable to fight her off.
I balled my hands into fists and willed him to meet my eyes, to say something, to frown or smile, to give me some sign he was here on his own and not under the command of the Drone.
When he reached the mattress, his sunken cheeks, his too-narrow face, and the remoteness in his bruised eyes forced me to face the cruel reality. Michio was still as enchained as I was.
He knelt at my feet and unraveled the rope, staring over my shoulder. “Don’t make me hurt you.”
God, I hated that terrible, insentient tone in his voice. I knew the Drone had moved his mouth to taunt me with those words. And in the next few minutes, the Drone would make him do something worse with those ropes.
Michio looked past me like I didn’t exist, making it hard to believe he was still in there and still loved me. But I felt him, the vitality of his life force caressing beneath my skin. I had to believe his dreams and fears and the heart of who he was hadn’t been starved and raped out of him.
The chains clanked as I sat back, closed my eyes, and drew a determined breath. I wouldn’t give up. I owed it to my guardians and my unborn child to survive this. The energy in my blood charged at the thought, my womb pulsing and stretching to contain the power growing inside.
“We have an unbreakable bond, Michio.” I knew the Drone could hear me through Michio’s thoughts, but I refused to filter my words. “A bond that doesn’t require touch or voice. Even when I can’t see or hear you, I feel our connection in the electricity humming between our souls. We are one in our suffering, our resistance, and our love. You know what that means to me?” I opened my eyes and hardened my expression with conviction as I stared up at his distant gaze. “It means I will never abandon my heart. I will never forsake you. No matter what happens, I will protect our bond and this child.”
In a blur of superhuman speed, he coiled the heavy nylon around my ankles and wound it up my legs, locking my thighs together in a net of elaborate knots. Stunned at the swiftness of his movements, I tried to jerk away, but in that single breath, he’d bound me from feet to hips and removed my ability to walk. Even if I could’ve physically fought him off, I wouldn’t have. I wouldn’t allow the Drone to use Michio’s body to hurt us.
He rolled me, his hands flying through the knots as he transformed the bindings between my legs into some sort of rope seat. The harness looped around my upper thighs, cupped my ass, and cinched beneath my stomach. What the hell was he doing?
I didn’t see him pull out a key, but the shackles suddenly fell from my wrists. Before I could snap my arms up, he’d replaced the cuffs with a row of zip snare knots from my wrists to my biceps. The rope laced my arms together in a straight line and fastened them to the harness at my pelvis, preventing me from lifting my hands.
He leapt to his feet, and his grip on the rope around my arms jerked me with him. With my ankles locked together, I wobbled as he tied off the ends at my back and wrapped the remaining length around his forearm.
My God, he’d finished the binding before I’d even had time to panic. I stared down at my trussed-up body, unable to move a limb, barely able to breathe. If I tried to move, I was certain I’d topple over. How the hell would I go to the bathroom?
The blue cotton wrap I’d worn for days—weeks?—bunched beneath the maze of ropes, the cotton soiled with sweat and frayed along the edges. Evidently, I wouldn’t be changing clothes. Not that it mattered. It was the only thing I owned. No, even these tattered rags belonged to the Drone.
