AllFreeNovel
Share Us
I don’t mean it.
I love you.
“The ice for your face is not an apology.”
“Then what is it?”
“You said, if I treated you well, it would be good,” he spat. “Better. That is all I want—a hot, wet pussy.”
She stroked his cheekbone with the pad of her thumb and swallowed bile. “Ugh. Why can’t I stop touching you? What the fuck is it about you? Answer me.”
“Stop.”
“It’s your fault. Whatever you gave me—”
“I did not give you anything. It was a sedative. Sedatives do not fill women’s heads with any more stupidity than they already possess.”
“Then what’s wrong with me?” she asked.
He opened his eyes.
She wrenched a smile from a cold, dark place she hadn’t tapped into since her mother died. “Adrían told me everything. You don’t have to cover for him.”
The bulb in his throat quivered.
Please, please lie.
“I did not know he told you,” he said.
She swallowed what would have been a primal scream of triumph. “Can I ask you something? And you can be honest. I know you said I was pretty, but,” she bit her bottom lip, still smiling, “am I your type?”
“Why is that important?”
“It isn’t.”
He nearly smiled.
She held in another scream.
Then he snorted, barked, “You are everyone’s type,” shoved her until her head nearly hit the wall, and left the room.
She waited.
It didn’t take long for him to return, and he walked directly to the metal rail. She watched as he unfastened the rope, and she started to make her way to the bathroom, but he stopped her.
“It is not for that.”
As he dragged her through the door, she tried not to think about the implications of someone who looked like him handling her the way he did.
This was about survival. This was about seeing her family again. Nothing else could matter, or she would break.
The place was tiny. The only bedroom and full bathroom appeared to be her prison. The main area housed a well-worn couch draped with a thin sheet and an older-model television, and one corner belonged to the kitchen, but all it possessed was a sink and microwave.
He sat her on the couch and tied the other end of the rope to something she couldn’t see. Then he retrieved the food containers, handed one to her, took the cushion beside her, and turned on the TV to a soccer match in progress.
She kissed his cheek, opened the container, and removed a French fry.
“Hey,” she whispered.
