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I pushed my brows together. What did that have to do anything? Plus, why was I arguing with an orc who was probably insane and very, very dangerous?
He continued without skipping a beat. “Because that’s what your date was planning to do. The dangerous mafia group your ‘roided-out Casanova joined not only sells drugs but women as well.” A cold chill ran down my spine. “Black rock is fucking addictive. One pill and you’re ruined for life. Casanova would meet up with a woman and if she refused to take the drug willingly, he would shove it down their throats. Women are a lot easier to control when they’re all doped up.” He curled his lip in disgust for a moment. “So I was doing you and this city a big fucking favor for taking out that asshole. Consider it my community service.”
“How do you know that’s what he was planning?”
His features hardened. “Because it’s my job to hunt down bastards like him. Like I said, community service.” He scrubbed a hand over his tired features. “And unfortunately for you, you had the misfortune of being seen with me. Now that you're associated with me, others will want you too. And for that reason, I can’t let you go. There is a mark on your head now too.”
The handcuff chain rattled as I leaned towards him. “Wait, what?! You’re making me stay here?”
He nodded solemnly. “I’m sorry, lass. This dangerous orc wants nothing more than to see me dead, and if I let you go, his men will stop at nothing to hunt you down and torture you for information. And when you have nothing to offer them,” he paused, giving me a wicked smile, “aside from how lovely you think my cock is—they’ll either dump your body in the Patapsco River or sell your body to the highest bidder.”
I was going to be sick, but I steadied myself. He sounded so serious and yet, he still had me chained to his bed. This could be some elaborate lie to keep me complacent. I had seen enough crime documentaries to know how tricky sociopaths could be. “But how would they track me? It’s not like I gave anyone my name—”
“They have your driver’s license. And presumably, your purse? Your phone? There wasn’t anything left on your body, so I’m assuming it was left at the scene. How did you set-up your date? A dating app, I’m guessing. So they would have no problem tracking you down.”
I suddenly remembered dropping my phone at the bottom of the dumpster. It was still there, if the other men hadn’t found it first. I pressed my lips together, not sure who to believe. All I knew was I needed to get the fuck out of here. “Please,” I whispered, tears filling my eyes. “Let me go. I can stay with my parents. I can flee the country. Please don’t make me stay here.”
He shook his head slowly, looking as if my begging actually pained him. “I can’t do that, sweetling.”
I closed my eyes, taking a deep breath. “Please stop calling me that. I’m not your sweetling. Or your lass. Or yourlove.Skye. My name is Skye.”
He nodded once, standing from his spot on the bed. Goddess, he was so tall. It was still a shock. “You already know my name is Ansel. The elf downstairs is Liam, and the other orc is Demie. We don’t have much, but we’ll try to make your stay as painless as possible, as long as you behave and work with us. Now if ya don’t mind, I’m terribly sore and tired and I need a shower.” He pushed the tray of food closer to my feet, within reach, careful not to spill the bowl of tomato soup. “Here’s some dinner. Better eat before it gets too cold.” He paused, adding an emphasis in his rough orc burr, “Skye.”
He headed towards the bathroom and a surge of panic settled into my chest. My mouth dried and there was suddenly a painful heaviness on my chest. I couldn’t be left alone, chained to a bed, for who knows how long. “Hey!” I shouted. He ignored me, his hand reaching for the doorknob and twisting. I placed my toes underneath the edge of the tray and kicked—tomato soup splattering all over his white duvet, making the bed look like a crime scene.
But it got his attention, at least.
“I’m not eating your food,” I said, after he whirled to face me. A moment of anger flashed across his features, but he quickly composed himself. He stared at the stain on the bed, his lips parted in shock. “You probably drugged it.”
“That duvet was really expensive,” he muttered under his breath. His gray eyes flickered to mine and narrowed. “If I wanted you drugged, I would have done it already. That was our last can of soup, so enjoy going to bed on an empty stomach.” He opened the door and slammed it behind him.
I tilted my head back, pressing it against the wall behind me.Just for future reference, that was vinegar, not honey.As if on cue, my stomach growled. This was going to be a long night.
Chapter five
Anselreturnedfromthebathroom, a cloud of steam trailing behind him. A white towel hung low around his hips, just underneath the strong V carved into his stomach. His long black hair hung around his face and onto his chest in wet tendrils. I watched him carefully, now hyper-aware of how grimy I was now that there was the faint smell of body wash in the air. I think tomato soup accidentally splashed on my feet. I desperately wanted a shower—I could never go longer than a day without one—but if my gross smell increased my chances of not being touched, then I would wear this dress until it clung to me like a second skin.
What if he’s into that kind of thing?
I shivered. Nooo. In all the women empowerment retreats I had attended, all the time and money I had spent on a gym membership, why didn’t I think to take a self-defense class? I always wanted to, I was a single woman living by herself in a city full of scary creatures, so it made sense. The closest I got to self-defense was my boxercise class, but Ansel was so big, he wouldn’t even notice my punch. And I would end up breaking my hand.
Oh right. For a moment, I loathed Carter. I loathed myself because I wasn’t the woman Carter needed. Wanted. If I had been better, I wouldn’t be here handcuffed to some orc’s bed. I would be on the couch with Carter, sitting on his lap wrapped in our favorite minky blanket like we were two caterpillars sharing the same cocoon, watching trashy reality TV. I wanted to cry just thinking about it, but I had no more tears left. Only a constant throbbing headache. I would gladly give up showers forever if it meant I could see Carter again.
You will. Don’t give up. You may be lacking brute strength, but you still have a brain.
Ansel stood in front of the dresser with his back to me. As I studied him, I became transfixed with the wall of muscles, my eyes slowly trailing down to his ass. A light fluttering began between my legs, and I pressed my knees together, wishing my body would stop betraying me. I was never going to escape unless my brain and vagina could get on the same page.
As if sensing my eyes on his ass, his hands went to the edge of the towel and it dropped, revealing a perfectly round green buttock. I gasped, squeezing my eyes shut.
Ansel gave a throaty laugh. “What’s the matter, Skye? You were so eager to see me naked only a few hours ago.”
A handful of colorful insults popped into my mind and pushed against my lips. Honey. Not vinegar, I reminded myself. I swallowed the words and opened my eyes, relieved to see Ansel wearing a pair of boxer briefs. He stood facing me with a shit-eating grin across his face. “You just surprised me, that’s all.” The smile only faded slightly as he pulled a shirt over his head, covering the hard muscles of his abdomen. As he stepped into a pair of gray sweatpants, I added, “I’m really sorry about ruining your duvet. I was just frightened, you know.”
He sauntered towards the edge of the bed and motioned towards my body. “Lift your butt,” he ordered.
A panicked thrill ran through my body, something tight curling between my legs. “What are you going to do?” I asked in a quiet voice.
His brows knitted together. “Unless you want to sleep on a blanket with dried soup on it, I suggest you lift your ass.”
