“No,” I grunt.
“I’ll make—” Bear’s words follow me out of the room and into the maze of his fun house.
I need to do this for her.To give her something and build a little trust between us.She knows about Cleo and I don’t want to risk her safety.I’d go to hell and back for Cleo, and I won’t let The Brotherhood princess escape and sacrifice my daughter.I need her to understand the consequences.Cleo is my number one priority; everything I do is to make her life better.
I reach the door to Amirah’s room and enter the code on the keypad Kai had one of our friends install.The lock beeps before the door clicks, and I push it open.
Amirah sits up on her bed, her eyes cautious, scanning me up and down.She tucks her hair behind her ear.She’s wearing what looks like Bear’s black hoodie.It rises, showing off her toned stomach and the top of her lacy underwear.My cock twitches inside my briefs, but I ignore it.She won’t distract me.
“What do you want?”Amirah asks, her voice lined with a little bite.She isn’t completely broken yet.
“You need to shower,” I say, and Amirah shakes her head.
“Yeah, not happening.”Amirah bunches up her hair and ties it behind her back.
Her cheeks are starting to hollow out.Her plate on the small table beside her bed looks barely touched.Anger boils up inside me.How long has it been since she’s eaten?A day?Has she refused all of our food?Is she worried we’ve tampered with her meals?What a waste.
“You don’t have a choice in the matter.I can either take you kicking and screaming, or would you prefer to go yourself?”
Amirah watches me closely, her eyes turning into slits.That fire is still there.
I step forward, to the end of the bed.She shuffles closer to the wall, creating more distance between us.
“Leave me alone,” she growls, and I shake my head.
“Not happening.I’m not leaving until you’ve taken a shower and eaten the rest of that.”
She watches me closely, her gaze heavy.I don’t look away.She huffs.“I’m not moving.”
I brace my hands on the blanket, close to her legs.“And I’m not playing around.”
I grab her thighs and she screams.Her fists slam into my chest.
Chapter Eighteen
Amirah
Zion releases my thighs, and I scramble backward on the bed.He points toward the bathroom.
“If you aren’t in there in one minute, I’m throwing you over my shoulder and taking you,” he says with a deep growl, and I believe him.
I release a loud sigh before pushing off the bed and walking into the adjoining bathroom, my fists bunched at my sides.I’m so sick of these four walls and being held against my will.I want to go home.To be in my own bed and see my best friend.I feel like I’m wasting my life away here, when I could be out there living.Saving lives.Hell, I could be drinking fucking champagne and eating pasta instead of staring at the unenticing food Bear brings in.Nothing like that burger from Daniel’s he brought on my second day here.That was yum.
Bracing my hands on the vanity, I stare at my reflection.My hair is a greasy mess, slicked back into a ponytail.My cheeks are hollowing in, and my eyes a darker shade of green than usual.I don’t even recognize myself.
I’ve given up, and that pisses me off.I need to get my strength back, to fight back.I have to play this smart.Smarter than before.I need to gain their trust and then escape once they let their guard down.I tried running before and didn’t get far.They were ready, but they won’t be when the walls between us lower and they become more relaxed around me.It’s clear they’re not going to kill me, or they would have done it already.So I’m here for the long haul—which means I stand a chance.I can fight back.
Zion unzips his backpack, pulling out a hairbrush and some little packs of skincare products, placing them on the vanity.“I thought you’d need these,” he says, and my heartbeat increases.I’ve never been so happy to receive beauty products.
Heat presses behind me as Zion reaches around me, his chest brushing against my back.Shivers sprinkle over my arms.Why do I keep getting so turned on by my captors?Is it Stockholm syndrome?
He opens the cabinet and pulls out bottles of shampoo and conditioner, then leaves them on the vanity.
“Get in the shower,” he says, his breath hot against my neck.I watch him in the mirror, so close to me.His body feels hot, or maybe it’s mine—I don’t know.Shit.
“You need to leave,” I say, and he shakes his head.
“I want to make sure you actually do it,” he says, and my breathing becomes heavier.
