Rose was fuming, and a childish part of her wanted to scream after him, to rant and rave, to make sure he knew how much she hated him for shattering her illusion of freedom.
However, a bigger part of her cared more about self-preservation.
For however long they’d been keeping her there she’d been in that basement, no access to the outside world, but now she was sitting in a bed, in a real room, with a window and a regular door. The last thing she needed was to get his attention and make him come back in and tie her to the bed.
Mr. Bedroom Man would do it too. He’d seemed genuinely concerned about her being in pain. That made zero sense to her. That was exactly why he’d brought her here, to hurt her, so why was it driving him crazy if she shifted slightly on the bed and aggravated her wounds?
The man was crazy, no doubt about it.
Although she was one to talk.
Something that felt worryingly close to arousal had flooded her system when he mentioned tying her to the bed. And she’d reacted to his hand around her throat several times now. What the hell was wrong with her? Rose never felt sexual urges, ever, not for anyone. She’d never even had sex, and she didn't feel as though she was missing out on anything, she was just built differently.
Shrugging off the crazy thoughts, she could worry about why her captor’s threats made her feel all needy, with a most inconvenient throbbing between her legs, but now was the time for action.
Waiting a few moments to make sure Mr. Bedroom Man, Doctor Man, and the other guy weren't going to come right back, because she wouldn't put it past them to try to trick her so they had another excuse to hurt her, when the door didn't open again, she began to move.
Pain pulsed through her body with each breath she took, but it wasn't so bad that she couldn’t function. Mainly in part due to the IV that was delivering pain meds. Unfortunately, she was going to have to do away with it.
Grateful for about the thousandth time since she’d been abducted for her childhood and what it taught her about survival, Rose made quick work of removing the IV port from the inside of her elbow. If she hadn't been forced to learn to deal with anything life threw at her, no matter how terrifying or painful, she would be a sobbing, hysterical mess right now, still locked up in a basement cell.
This was her chance of escaping, and she couldn’t waste it.
It didn’t matter that she didn't understand why they had looked for her under the rubble, or brought her to a bed, or treated her injuries. It didn't even matter that Mr. Bedroom Man had some kind of super strength. It was the only way to explain how she’d seen him lifting concrete as though it weighed nothing. The man who’d brought the ropes had to have some sort of super speed because he’d been up way too quickly, unless he’d been standing right outside the door with them?
No, that didn't make sense, because if Mr. Bedroom Man knew he wanted the ropes, he would have brought them with him.
Doctor Man, who apparently wasn't a doctor after all, had some sort of healing skills. It was a guess, but one she was basing on the desperation she’d heard in Mr. Bedroom Man’s voice when he ordered Doctor Man to save her.
As much as she wanted to know who these men were and how they could do what they did, she wanted to get out of there more.
Sitting up wasn't fun. Her stomach revolted at the idea, threatening to throw up something if there had been anything left in there to come out. Her head also wasn't fond of the move, and the room did one of those sickening spins around her.
Clenching her eyes closed, Rose waited until the dizziness and nausea faded a little before opening them again. Looking down at her body, she could see that not only was she naked, butshe was literally covered in bruises. There was hardly a spot that wasn't some shade of black, blue, or purple.
The tubing between her legs caught her attention, and her cheeks flamed with embarrassment at knowing someone had touched her there, even if it was inserting a catheter and nothing sexual. She didn't care about these men seeing her naked body, but touching it was different.
Maybe she wasn't so upset about Doctor Man getting a black eye, even as she understood he’d only been doing what he had to do to tend to her.
As she did a visual sweep of the room, she spotted her pajamas sitting neatly folded on one of the nightstands, the one without the ropes.
Steadfastly ignoring the ropes and everything they represented, from prolonged captivity to her previously latent sexual desires awakening, she removed the catheter then swung her legs over the side of the mattress and stood. Her legs felt as shaky as a newborn calf’s, but she had no choice but to make them work.
If she hobbled a little as she rounded the bed and grabbed her clothing, it didn't matter, she was up and moving, and that was all that counted. Making quick work of pulling them on, Rose gritted her teeth at the shooting pain in her arm as she used it, and cursed the cracked or broken ribs that were making every breath feel like she was inhaling shards of glass.
How the hell was she supposed to escape when she could barely function?
Stop complaining.
Complain later. Once you're safe.
Creeping over to the window, she edged the drapes open just enough to peek out. It was pitch black outside, but she could make out the shadowy shapes of trees. The fact that there wasn'ta single light in sight meant that wherever she’d been brought was remote.
Damn.
Of course, the universe would make this as hard as it could be for her.
While she had no idea how long she’d been kept there, she knew it couldn’t really be more than a handful of days, possibly a week or so. Certainly not long enough for winter to have morphed into spring.
