Silence.
My pulse skyrockets. “If you don’t let me, I’ll just… I’ll do it right here. On this chair. Do you want that? Because I swear to God I’ll—”
“Shut up.” Gray Eyes’ voice is rough now, frustrated.
“I mean it!” I shout, hysteria clawing at my throat. “I’ll pee on myself, and it’ll be your fault. You’ll regret it! I’m not joking!”
A curse rumbles from behind the balaclava. His hands curl into fists. He strides forward, grip locking around my arm as he unties me roughly. I yelp from the burn of rope against raw skin.
“You better not do anything stupid,” he growls, dragging me up to my shaky feet.
Relief and terror collide. My knees buckle, but his grip steadies me, iron around my elbow.
The world outside is darker, the air colder, damp night clinging to my lungs. He pulls me behind some bushes, gravel crunching under our steps. I can’t stop shaking.
“Where’s the bathroom?” I demand, voice wavering. “This is insane. You expect me to just squat out here? Like I’m some animal?”
Nothing. No reply.
“Answer me, damn it! I’m not peeing in the dirt!”
He exhales heavily, the sound muffled under the mask. Then he huffs, turning his broad back to me.
My stomach twists. He’s actually giving me privacy.
Hands trembling, I yank my skirt up, underwear down. My whole body burns with humiliation. But the pain in my bladder overrides everything. The hiss is loud in the quiet night, echoing in my ears. Hot tears slip down my cheeks as I relieve myself, hating every second, hating them, hating me.
But then an idea sparks. Stupid. Dangerous. But it’s all I’ve got.
Run.
I finish, yanking my underwear back up, yanking my skirt down. My heart slams so hard it hurts. My eyes dart to the dark stretch of trees. Freedom is right there.
I bolt.
Gravel scatters, my sneakers slipping as I lunge forward. My lungs burn instantly, adrenaline propelling me faster than I thought possible.
But I’m not fast enough.
“Fuck!” His voice cuts the night as he whirls, boots pounding behind me.
I barely make it ten yards before he’s on me. A weight crashes into my back, knocking the breath out of me. I scream, high-pitched and raw, as his arms clamp around my waist, hauling me up like I weigh nothing.
“Please! Please, let me go! I won’t tell anyone! Just let me—”
“Shut the fuck up,” he snarls, dragging me backward.
My hands claw at his wrists, nails scratching, fighting like an animal caught in a trap. My vision spins, tears blurring everything. And then I see ink peeking from beneath his glove. A black line, sharp and deliberate, snaking up his wrist before disappearing under his sleeve.
A tattoo.
It sears into my brain like evidence. A clue. Something I can hold onto if I survive this.
He notices. He curses viciously, yanking my hair so hard I cry out.
“You didn’t see shit,” he hisses, lips brushing my ear through the fabric of his mask. His breath is hot, furious. “Keep fighting and I’ll put a bullet in your head. Right fucking now.”
I sob, my body going limp in his hold. I can’t stop trembling.
