He moves around the back of my chair to make sure I’m still tied. The knot is a much better one this time, which makes sense given he set that handy little trap for me. I could get out still. If I wanted to. I have no desire to do that right now. I just want to wait and see what happens next.
This is the best second date I’ve had by far.
Ansel wrecks all my fun by going into the other room and leaving me alone. I spend the next hour or so trying to get to know him better. By which I mean calling out a variety of questions covering everything from his favorite food to what star sign he is.
He’s totally a Gemini with how he’s been flipping from shy to flirty and from determined to scared.
Not that he confirms this. He doesn’t answer a single one of my questions. It’s quite rude for a second date. Isn’t this the time when you really get to know one another?
“What’s your favorite color?” I call out.
He shuts the door with a slam.
Doubly rude, but still sexy as hell.
Behind the door, I can hear him pacing around, muttering to himself. The walls might be falling apart, but they’re still too thick to hear what he’s saying. At least I know he’s safe and not wandering off.
It might be a little fucked up to be worried about the safety of the guy who stuffed me in a trunk and took me to a cabin in the woods, but I’m a little fucked up. Makes sense to me that that’s where my mind would go. Of the two of us, I know who the dangerous one is here. And it’s not the little butterfly who’s flapping back and forth so much that he’s going to wear a path inthe floor.
Without Ansel to entertain me, I rock my chair back on two legs repeatedly. To an outsider, it probably looks like I’m just bored and fidgeting. Which, valid. I’m definitely both of those things.
But that’s not why I’m doing it.
By using my weight on the back legs, I’m gradually weakening the pressure point where they join the seat of the chair. It’ll hold for now, but if needed, I’ll be able to slam myself back on them and detach them completely.
Not that I think I’ll need weapons against Ansel. If it came to it, I could incapacitate him with my bare hands. I don’t want it to come to that, of course, but I could.
No, that’s not why I’m doing this. I’m giving myself options in case someone else decides to gatecrash our little date. I have to assume that Ansel isn’t working alone, which means it’s likely only a matter of time before someone else comes to join us.
I hope it’s not soon. I haven’t had nearly enough time with my butterfly yet.
For when they do though, it’s best that I have options. My brothers would be furious if they thought I wasn’t making preparations. I’m already going to be on Wylder’s shit list when he learns I trashed my own tracker.
And Ansel still has my dagger, but I don’t know what he’s done with it. No matter. I can do things with these two chair legs that most people wouldn’t even consider.
When I’m satisfied the chair is sufficiently rickety, I stop. There’s no point ruining it completely. I have to sit somewhere.
My gaze lands on the bed. Hmm. Maybe I can persuade Ansel to tie me up there instead. We both have to sleep.
Perhaps we can do so together.
All curled up with my kidnapper. Sounds kind of romantic, right? Like the plot of one of those dark romance novels my youngest brother, Harley, reads. I’m not supposed to know about that, but I do.
It’s one of my talents—discovering things about people that they wish I didn’t know.
I can’t wait to find out what secrets Ansel is hiding.
Other than being a shit kidnapper.
That’s not a secret, though. And I shouldn’t judge him. He’s trying his best.
My mood picks up as the door swings open. Ansel doesn’t give me anything more than a cursory glance before dropping down on the bed. He glares at his phone like it’s done something to personally offend him.
“What’s wrong, little butterfly?”
He gives me a swift, withering glare. “Stop fucking calling me that.”
I click my tongue. Oh yes, someone’s upset him. I don’t like that. “Why don’t you tell me what’s wrong? You know what they say, a problem shared is a problem halved.”
