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“The other women?” I ask, because focusing on myself might invite in those pesky fucking emotions I haven’t been able to control recently.
I never want this man to see me as weak.
I watch his shoulders lift. “I gave them every opportunity to get away. No clue if they took it or not.”
Rage boils inside of me, but I shouldn’t be surprised he doesn’t give a shit about others. He’s no FBI. The man is a hired fucking gun. Green is the only damn language he speaks. The other women there aren’t his concern. I’m left wondering why he cares about me at all, but maybe that’s a mistake as well, because being naked and tied to his bed for ten fucking days doesn’t exactly spell affection.
“Don’t fucking touch me,” I snap when his finger trails over my shoulder and down my left breast.
I’m not surprised by the laughter that rumbles out of him, but I am worried about the way my body threatens to delight in the actual sound.
I don’t know that I’ve heard him laugh and the gravel of it affects me in a way I refuse to focus on.
I hiss in pain when he twists the tip of my breast between two punishing fingers.
“You seem confused, so let me explain it to you.” His face drops lower, mere inches from mine. “I fucking own you. I bought you with the deaths of three men.”
I’m only now realizing the depth of my depravity because a thrill at his words races up my spine.
“I was working,” I say on a gasp of relief as he releases my nipple, only to trail his finger further down my stomach.
He presses a rough finger into a sore spot on my hip, smiling when I try to fight the discomfort by not moving or complaining.
“I think you’re mistaken. Paperwork has been filed with the Bureau. Lauren Vos is not only no longer employed by the FBI, but she’s also actively being sought for crimes against the government.”
Knowing it was a possibility and actually hearing that those things have come to pass are two very different things.
“That means you either got yourself abducted on purpose without the backup of your agency or you were so distracted that someone grabbed you by surprise. Which is it, Lauren?”
I clamp my lips closed. He has no right to any explanation from me.
His eyes sparkle with mirth in the limited light as he watches my face. “There she is. I thought those men beat and fucked that spark out of you.”
“Untie me,” I demand again, but it falls on deaf ears.
Angel stands, running his eyes down the length of me one last time before walking away.
“You can’t keep me tied up forever,” I yell to his back.
This makes him stop in his tracks as he turns back to face me once again.
“I’m willing to test the theory.”
“Why are you fucking doing this to me?”
He’s silent for a long moment. “You seem to need it. So I’m going to give it to you.”
“Does this mean you aren’t going to hurt me?”
That same sinister laugh flows over me once again. “Oh, no, baby. I’m going to hurt you more than anyone ever has.”
The door closes behind him, and I try not to think of the way his statement makes me feel.
I’m so beyond fucked up, doctors could spend their entire careers, working through all the shit that’s wrong with me.
I jolt at the sound of a crackle coming from the bedside table.
“In today’s podcast, we’re going to discuss how to overcome childhood trauma.”
