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There is no use lingering on that now.
Not when I need to escape.
The windows are bolted shut. From the looks of it, those bolts are brand new. He must have had them put on while I was unconscious. Same with the door. It locks from the outside. He’d made me a luxurious cage. Not that it matters much. I have no clothes except the sheet I’m currently wearing toga style and no weapon. With a wince, I lie down on the bed, facing the door in case someone comes in. The jaunt around the room exhausted me. The gunshot took more of a toll than I expected it would.
Even if the window was unlocked, there is no way I am escaping in my condition. Especially from the second story. I could potentially deal without having clothes or a weapon, but I’d be a sitting duck if I pass out or reinjure myself.
The lock on the door snicks, and I wince as I scurry to sit up, pressing myself against the headboard, making sure the sheet covers my body fully. Adrian saunters into the room, closing the door behind him. I have half a mind to make a run for it, but I’m not an idiot. I won’t make it.
His gaze wanders the room casually before coming to rest on me.
I jut my chin out, meeting his hardened gaze head on. He doesn’t get to see the fear currently raking through me. Adrenaline is pumping through my veins, feeding my fight-or-flight response one tick at a time.
Adrian stalks toward me like a predator coming for his prey. He stops at the edge of the mattress, just inches away from me. He’s studying me. I take the time to do the same to him. He’s leaner than I remember. His muscles are more pronounced beneath the stretched fabric of his collared shirt. His hair is longer. He used to always keep it short. New tattoos stretch down onto his scarred hands and peek from beneath the top undone button of his shirt.
His entire body vibrates with dangerous energy. Adrian shifts, sitting on the edge of the mattress. Fear clings to me like dollar-store perfume. Cloying. Suffocating. Can he smell it? Predators can always smell fear.
“Don’t get all shy now, little mouse,” he smirks, his hand gripping my ankle when I try to scoot away from him to the other side of the massive bed. His grip isn’t hard, just resting. Warning. He doesn’t attempt to pull me toward him.
“Where are my parents?” I whisper.
Adrian snorts. “They’re dead, remember?” He doesn’t have to say it so callous and cold. The glint in his eyes tells me he knows that isn’t what I meant.
“What did you do with their bodies, Adrian?” I ask, unable to contain the rising fury in my tone.
He shrugs nonchalantly, as if we aren’t talking about human beings, but animals and products.
“Burned them.”
My eyes darken at his blunt statement. I don’t think of the consequences when I lean forward, my arm reaching out to slap the smug look off his face. Adrian sees this coming a mile away and easily grabs my wrist in an iron grip. He shifts on the bed, sitting further back on the mattress. I don’t have time to contemplate the consequences of my action before he uses his grip on my ankle and wrist to hurl me toward him.
One moment I’m sitting on the bed and the next I’m splayed belly down over his right knee, the left scissored over my legs, preventing me from kicking out. My hands grip his pant legs, no longer the smooth feel of the trousers he was wearing before, but rough denim. I hiss through clenched teeth as his thigh presses against the skin of my wound as he maneuvers me away from his body slightly. I don’t have to wonder what he is doing. I hear the jangle of his belt buckle, it’s nearly deafening in the quiet room, the leather zipping through the belt loops.
“Lift up the sheet, Vanya,” he orders.
I shake my head, tears escaping from under my lashes, wetting my cheeks.
“I won’t ask you again,” he snarls. “Lift the sheet or I will do it for you. And if I do it, this punishment will go very differently.
“I’m not yours to punish, asshole.” I attempt to kick my feet out, but he only tightens his left leg down on mine, the pressure creating a throbbing pain around my bruised legs. My throat burns and my side has begun to ache from being spread over his knee.
“Don’t make this worse for yourself,malen’kaya mysh’.”
“Pígaine na gamítheis ton eaftó sou,” I hiss at him, telling him to fuck himself.
His hand darts to my hair, wrapping around my thick curls, pulling my head back, and arching my body until it feels as if it will snap. He leans toward my face, eyes narrowed into dark slits.
“I’m the one in charge here, little mouse,” he warns. “I’m the one who controls your fate. I gave you a command, and you’re going to follow it, or I will make the belting I planned to give you seem like child’s play.”
“Please… just let me go.”
Adrian smiles, looking more like the Joker than the handsome man I’ve known for so long. He brings the loop of the belt up and runs it down my throat like a gentle caress.
“Now why would I do that?” he asks. “When I have everything I want right here.” He pauses dramatically, running his belt against my throat one last time before releasing my hair. My body slumps over, the fight leaving me as quickly as it had come. “Lift the sheet, Vanya. Now.”
Burying my face in the jean material covering his calf, I reach back and gather up the sheet, gathering it to my waist. The belt jangles in his hand and I shiver.
“Please,” I beg one more time.
