“What were you thinking about?” Blade asked as he lifted her with him as he climbed off the bed and stood.
Slowly … oh so slowly … he let her body glide down his as he set her on her feet. There was not a single chance she could have missed his morning erection as she brushed past it, and her cheeks flamed as she cleared her throat uncomfortably.
“Sorry,” he said, not sounding the least bit sorry. “Can't help it. Side effect of sleeping with a beautiful woman plastered against me.”
Shock had her gaze finally darting up to meet his, her mouth hanging open. There was no way a man who looked like Blade thought she was pretty. Absolutely no way. He was messing with her, he had to be, trying to … disarm her? Make her trust him so he could use it against her? Make it easier on her if he raped her because she’d think it meant something?
“Relax, you know you're beautiful, don’t pretend otherwise.”
Uh, she absolutely didnotknow that she was beautiful. Why would she? She worked with middle-aged men and women all day, all under the same boss, one who was cruel and harsh. They worked, they didn't talk, and no one ever implied in any way that they thought she was attractive.
So, no, she didn't know that.
“I need to pee,” she squeaked out in answer to his earlier question about what she’d been thinking about, and pretended the whole he thought she was pretty thing had never happened.
Wait.
Was she even allowed to go to the bathroom?
She was cuffed to Blade, and she didn't know how permanent it would be. Would he follow her to the bathroom and watch her do her business? If he tried, she’d likely freeze up, even as she was a little desperate after the water she’d been given last night. Blade had brought a bottle up with them and told her to sip her way through it before they lay down to sleep, and now she really did need to go, even if she did have an audience.
Eyeing her carefully, she half expected something mocking to come out of his mouth because surely, he still hated her and would enjoy taunting her, but instead, all she read in his gaze was thoughtful consideration.
“Take a shower while you're in there and get dressed.”
“On my own?” It was almost too much to hope for.
Blade nodded. “I’ll go downstairs and make us some breakfast. We should eat before we head out.”
“Head out?” They were leaving? Of course they were, it would make sense, although she assumed leaving meant taking her to his team so they could all join in the fun of punishing her for choices she’d no other option but to make.
“I’m hoping you’ll agree to come back home with me.”
Whitney scoffed before she realized antagonizing her captor was a stupid thing to do. “As if it matters if I agree. You hold all the power here, and we both know it. If you want me to go back with you then I'm going, I don’t have a choice.” Never had a choice. Her life had been in someone else’s hands for as long as she could remember.
Nodding slowly, Blade continued to examine her. “I’d like for you to agree. You have information we can use to bring down Dr. Gardner, and I think that’s something you want to do as well.”
That was still being used, but for an infinitely better purpose than what Dr. Gardner had been using her for the last twelve years. And Blade was right, she wanted the man destroyed for everyone he had made her hurt.
But she wasn't stupid, she did not need to have one of the highest recorded IQs to know that it wasn't all these men wanted from her. They wanted someone to punish, someone to hurt in return for all the hurt they themselves had suffered. They might use her knowledge, but when they had gotten everything out of her that they could, Whitney had no doubt that what came next was the same torture and death they had originally planned for her.
Still, she owed them that.
Owed them her pain, her screams, her blood.
Whether it had been her choice or not, she was still the one who created the drug, still the one responsible not only for the suffering of Blade and his team, but for all the others who had lost their lives.
This wasn't really a choice, just the illusion of one, but since she had no other options, she gave a weary nod. Maybe if she played along, it would take the edge off a little of the torture they had planned for her.
“Okay,” she agreed. “I’ll come with you.” Why fight against something that was happening anyway?
With slow, deliberate motions, Blade removed the key from the pocket of the sweatpants he had slept in and unlocked the handcuff from around her wrist. Before releasing her hand, he lifted it carefully and rotated it, examining the white bandage he’d secured around her wrist. Only when he must have seenthat there was no blood did he lower her arm until it hung by her side.
“Take as long as you want. When you're done, I’ll rebandage your wounds, then we can eat and leave. Oh, and, Whitney. Don’t bother trying to run, I’ll hear it if you open a window. I don’t want to have to tie you up again.”
After delivering his warning, he turned and left the bedroom, leaving her staring after him, tears welling in her eyes. So much for he would like her to agree to come with him. There had been no choice, never was.
It seemed she was destined to live her entire life trapped in a cage.
