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6
CHARLOTTE
“I’m sorry.” The words are as tight as my collar, but I manage to push them out, and they even sound genuine. I force myself to let go of the leather strip around my neck, smoothing my palms down my skirts. I drop my eyes. “What…what’s your name?”
There’s a quiet rumble from the man as he takes another step closer. He moves carefully, as if to reassure me that he doesn’t want to enter my personal space.
What a fucking joke. I know what he wants from me. Sick things. Depraved things.
I hurriedly shove away the thought before anger can well inside me and ruin whatever chance I have at gaining this man’s trust.
“You can call me Daniel,” he says.
“Daniel.” My skin crawls, and I have to work moisture into my mouth before I can speak again. “I always liked that name.”Until now.
When my eyes meet his, a jolt goes through me at the sadistic gleam in his blue eyes. I wrap my arms around myself, dropping my head again. “How…how long have I been here?”
“Why do you ask?”
“I’m hungry.” I couldn’t force down a crumb without puking, but that’s not the point. I have limited physical weapons in my arsenal, but getting him to sympathize with me is an emotional one I could arm myself with. If he has a trace of empathy in his body, of course.
Only one way to find out.
“And dirty,” he says.
My eyes snap up to his, arms tightening when he takes the last step toward me, closing the distance. He puts out a hand, using his index finger to move my arms away from my chest. I could resist—every fucking fiber of mybeingwants to—but I let him open me up, because I have many battles in my future, and this isn’t one I need to win.
“I’m sorry, Daniel,” I whisper, blinking away a press of hot tears. “I…was scared. I didn’t know where I was…and I was alone.” My voice shakes. “Ihatebeing alone.”
He makes that sound again, that quiet rumble deep in his chest, and I can only hope it’s a good sign. “Tell you what, Dolly…”
His finger traces up between my breasts, between my collar bones, to the leather strip around my neck. He slides the digit behind my collar and tugs it, ever so gently. “Let’s get you cleaned up, then we’ll see about getting some food in you.”
A key appears in his hand. Was it there all along, or did he take it out of his pocket? If he did, I hadn’t noticed. Hope explodes in my chest, and it’s a force of will to keep my expression neutral as the man leans in.
Daniel isn’t his real name. This man couldn’t possibly have such a boring name. Is it a good sign? Surely, if he’s going to kill me, he wouldn’t be bothered about keeping his identity secret.
I force myself not to shy away from his touch when he unlocks the chain from my collar. Then he gives it a tug, as if to make sure the strip of leather is still snug against my throat. There’s a scent coming off him, and I don’t like it. It’s not that it’s unpleasant, but I can’t place it—as familiar as it is—and that drives me nuts. A faintly leathery, oaky smell with a touch of something rusty, like an old penny.
He puts the key into his pocket and turns, sweeping his arm toward the door. “After you.”
Being treated like a guest is so ridiculous. I mean, he had me chained to the wall in a tiny pink room. But there’s no time to run a psychological evaluation on this man. I can only hope he’ll fuck up, giving me a chance to escape.
But what if there’s someone else up there?
The thought makes my bones go weak, and I stop at the foot of a long flight of concrete stairs, staring up at them as I wonder how the hell I’m going to make it to the top. I should be ecstatic. This is what I wanted. Daniel has let me out of the impenetrable room I’d been chained up in. Now all I have to do is wait for the perfect opportunity for escape, then—
A hand strokes my hair. I surge forward, nearly tripping as my rubbery legs tangle. Daniel chuckles deep in his throat, and I nearly wet myself at the sinister sound.
“You’re such a lovely girl,” he says. “I can see why Gideon likes you, Dolly.”
My heart kicks against my ribs, fed up with being trapped in my doomed body. Because the moment Daniel utters those words, I know who he really is.
Red.
Fyre’sRed.
7
