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From being amused, he sighs and brings me the coffee. I flinch when he takes one of my wrists.
“I'm also told you like eggs for breakfast.” He carefully puts the hot cup in my hand and lets me go, stepping back.
“I'm not hungry,” I say, my voice weaker than I was trying for.
Coffee topples over the cup, scolding my wrist. My hand is shaking. I hate this. I never shake—not under anyone but Maksim.
Charlie doesn't say anything for a moment. He's just staring at me with a look of wonder gleaming in his eyes.
The silence is unbearable, louder than any scream or cry I've ever heard.
I can't stand it.
I need to get out of here.
Dropping my gaze to the floor, I start for the door to put some distance between us but a hand closes around my forearm.
“Where'd you think you're going?” Charlie turns me to face him.
Baffled, I search his eyes. “Outside.”
“I don't think so.”
“What?” My eyes widen. “You expect me to stay in this room for three whole months?”
He shrugs, like that's exactly what he expected.
“You're insane if you think I'll stay cooped up in here.” I squeeze the cup in my hand, restraining myself from throwing it at him. “I need to train, Charlie. I need my own personal space.”
He's quiet again, as though he's contemplating something.
It feels like hours before he says, “If I let you out, you're not gonna run screaming for the hills, are you?” He flicks up his eyebrows. “Theoretically, I mean.”
I scoff at him with a smirk, on the verge of laughing my head off.
“What's so funny?” He doesn't look confused by my laughter—his expression is even and focused—but he sounds a bit confused.
“You flatter yourself.”
“Oh yeah?” He's back to smirking.
“Yes,” I huff. “Trust me, you're not worth screaming for.”
For a second, just a split second, I think he looks insulted, but then he grins, hunches down and puts us nose to nose, making me sink into my shoulders. “You screamed pretty well last night.”
My cheeks burn. I'm more embarrassed now than I was when I woke up.
I don't know where it comes from but I snatch out of his grasp and slap him around the face,wallop!hard enough to make his head whip back.
He slams me against the wall with his forearm over my chest.
“Ah!” I pant out on impact, dropping the coffee cup. It smashes at my feet and scatters across the floor.
“You know...” Charlie says in my face, his expression taut with darkness, “...you're the only girl I won't hit but don't think you have the advantage because there are other ways I can punish you.”
I gulp, pressing my hands back against the wall.
“I'd rather you hit me,” I say, my voice small.
