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“You just said you were sorry,” he pointed out.
“It was sarcasm.”
“Ahh. Sarcasm.” He said it with the same disgust you’d talk about stepping in dog poop.
“Are you always so literal?” she asked. This was kind of a bizarre conversation. Should she be yelling for help? Who would help her in this dump? A wave of exhaustion washed through her.
“Yes.”
Okay, then.
“Look, either kill me or let me go, but put me out of my misery, huh?”
He raised an eyebrow. “Is that sarcasm again?”
She let out a sigh and gave him a bland look. Lord, she was so exhausted. She really didn’t have time for this. Or energy. He was going to do what he was going to do; she was sure. And she likely had no say in it.
“No, it was me telling you to get on with whatever you plan to do to me. I have to pee, I’m in a lot of pain, I can’t feel my hands, and my nose is itchy. So let me go or kill me, I don’t much care. But I’d appreciate it if you did it soon.”
“You’d appreciate if I did it soon . . . I’d say you were trying to goad me into letting you go, but you seem serious.”
“I am.”
“Hmm.”
Hmm? Was that really his reaction? What was he going to do?
“Where does it itch?” he finally asked.
“What?”
“Where does your nose itch?”
“You are so weird,” she muttered.
“I hear that quite often. Why is it weird to ask where your nose itches?”
“Is this some sort of torture technique? A way of getting me to talk?”
He looked thoughtful. “Not allowing you to itch your nose? I suppose that could work well. Imagine how irritating that would be.”
“I don’t have to imagine it, I’m living it.”
With a sigh, he reached out and started scratching her nose. First one side. Then the other. And he wasn’t exactly gentle about it. Did he not see her swollen eye? The bruising on her face?
“Ouch! Ow,” she complained. “Easy there.”
“Is it better?”
“You could have just untied me and let me scratch it.”
“I could have.” He studied where her hands were tied above her head. “Your boyfriend needs to pay more attention to his knots. He’s tied them far too tight.”
“You’re telling me.”
“I am telling you.”
“Okay, now what? Instead of torturing me via my itchy nose, you’re going to sit there and critique the way I’ve been tied up? Then untie me.”
