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I could weep right now, lifting my hips, the air hitting my nipples when I do and making them harder than ever. He uses his other hand to play with them and his breathing gets faster, harsher along with mine as he whispers filthy things in my ear. “Come for me, Annie.”
Just then he pinches one nipple while with the other hand teases me with tiny, rapid flicks against my clit and I’m lost, shooting up out of the water as a broken cry tears itself from my throat.
A cry that threatens to turn into a sob the instant reality comes hurtling back. My life has a timer on it. There won’t be much more of this.
“Let’s get you dried off before you prune.” Ryker stands and just about hits me in the face with the bulge in his pants before turning away to grab a towel. He could’ve forced himself into my mouth but didn’t. Why didn’t he?
He takes just as much care in drying me off, then escorts me back to Hunter’s room. “He’ll have clothes in here.” He opens a dresser drawer while I shiver, wrapped in a towel.
The sight of light glinting off metal catches my eye. A gun. Tucked inside the sock drawer.
My heart slams against my ribs hard enough that I’m afraid Ryker will hear it. He’s not paying attention, though, and opens another drawer to pull out a t-shirt. Like he either didn’t notice the gun or doesn’t think I did.
This is my time.
Only it’s not, since in the split second between deciding to go for it and reaching for the drawer, the door opens and in walks Hunter with a tray of sandwiches. I let my hand fall to my side and bite back frustration. I was so close.
“How was your bath?” Hunter leaves the tray on the bed, snagging half of what looks like turkey and cheese for himself and taking a big bite. Does he seem any different from when I last saw him? Like he just got laid by that girl he was hugging? Why the hell do I care?
“Great. I’m more comfortable now,” I say, hoping I am a good enough actress to pull off the lie.
The sandwich tastes like sawdust, but I choke it down without looking at the dresser. I can’t let them know I saw what’s inside.
He’s barely finished licking the last of the mustard from his fingers before he goes to the door again. “I’d better get back to…” He and Ryker exchange a look, and I know he’s talking about her. Whoever she is.
Good. Let him get back to her so I can do what needs doing. I’ll only have one chance, so I can’t hesitate or have second thoughts. No matter how nice they’ve been to me, they’re criminals. Insane. Violent. And they plan to kill me.
It’s me or them.
“Do you mind if I grab something long-sleeved?” I shiver and rub my arm with my good hand. “I’m chilly.”
Ryker nods with a mouthful of food. “Mm-hmm.” He gestures toward the dresser before going back to his sandwich. This is almost too easy. Like instead of getting me to drop my defenses, he’s done it to himself.
I’d thank him for that, but I’m too busy opening the sock drawer and pulling the gun, spinning on my heel, and aiming at his forehead. His mouth falls open in shock, like he doesn’t believe I would hurt him.
“Let me go, or I fire,” I warn in a voice I normally reserve for perps I’m about to arrest.
He blinks, then slowly rises from the bed. “You’re making a mistake.”
“I don’t think so. Let me go.”
“I can’t do that.” He even shrugs a little. “So you’re gonna have to drop the damn gun. Now.”
“Not happening.” My aim doesn’t falter. Good thing it wasn’t my right hand that got hurt.
“Then you’re going to have to put a bullet in my head, Annie.” The word is a snarl. “Because you’re not leaving on my watch. Go ahead. Pull the fucking trigger.”
I will. I should.
My index finger rests on the trigger. Only one little pull. I’ve fired a gun a thousand times. It’s easy. The trigger has barely any resistant, but right now it might as well be fifty pounds.
I can’t. I can’t fucking do it.
Fuck, why can’t I? He’s closing in on me, advancing with small steps while I retreat until I press my back against the wall and have nowhere left to go.
“Do. It,” Ryker pronounces each word, taunting me to kill him.
I can’t bring myself to do it because damn it, he has people who depend on him. Who love him. Who’d miss him.Family. I don’t have anybody. No one is going to care if I’m gone.
