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Feeling a little more alive, I splash my face with cold water and walk back to the bedroom with slightly more strength in my limbs.
It’s been a long time since I had an allergic reaction. So long, I hardly think about it.
I cooked all our meals at home, and Mav was more than aware of my allergy and ensured that if we went out, everything was safe. He always protected me.
I’ve no doubt that if it weren’t for him, I’d be in hell right now. It wouldn’t matter if I were dead or alive; I’d have ended up there regardless after everything I’ve done in my life.
If he didn’t find me that night, then someone would have. Even if I escaped town, they’d have come for me. And when they did… a violent shiver rips down my spine, and I stumble forward, barely catching myself on the windowsill.
Squeezing my eyes closed for a beat, I remind myself I’m safe.
Yes, I’m currently living—okay, surviving—with two of the most dangerous men in town. But if they wanted me dead, they’d have done it by now. And if JD’s performance just now tells me anything, it’s that he cares. Whatever I was feeling for him down in my cell wasn’t just one-sided. Maybe I wasn’t just an easy fuck for him.
Maybe it was more.
Or maybe you’re just so desperate for a connection, for the high of being wanted that you’ll latch onto anything you can get your hands on.
Stuffing that little voice back in its box, I open my eyes and look out at the view.
My breath catches at the sight. But while it might be stunning and cast the hellhole that is Harrow Creek in a whole new light with the sun shining down on it, that’s not what catches me off guard. It’s the memory of looking at this very view from Reid’s kitchen last night with the scent of homemade curry filling my nose and my stomach growling as if it hadn’t been fed for a month.
The image of the dinner table fills my head. Reid sitting at the head—obviously. And JD, beside a pulled-out empty chair, waiting for me with a twinkle in his eye and a bulge in his sweats.
The plates were black, the cutlery the same. There was wine. My wine.
And the curry.
Fuck. It was so good.
I remember shoveling it into my mouth without a care in the world.
He’s made chicken curry.I hear the words as if JD just whispered them in my ear.
Why would I question the ingredients in a chicken curry?
After a week or so of captivity with barely any food, I wasn’t likely to question anything unless he provided me with a seafood platter.
But then there is nothing.No other memories of the night’s events.
Nothing until I woke up here with Reid watching me with a concerned and guilty expression on his face. If I hadn’t seen that look, I might have been tempted to say that poisoning me was intentional.
Allowing me upstairs, luring me into a false sense of security by allowing me a taste of freedom, only to knock me even lower than he already has.
But that wasn’t it. This was an accident.
Everything else hasn’t been, though.
Spinning around, I rest my ass on the windowsill and scan the room again.
There is nothing. No personal possessions, no photographs. Nothing to tell me more about the enigma that is Reid Harris.
There has to be more to him than the evil torturing machine he’s labeled as.
But as curious as I might be, I don’t have the time or energy to try and figure it out.
Right now, there is only one thing I need to focus on.
Getting the hell out of here.
