Her eyes widen as she takes this in.
Too much?
I reach out and grip her chin gently but firmly. Her skin is impossibly soft under my rough fingers. Warm. Real. I've imagined this touch a thousand times—alone in the dark, in the ring between rounds, watching her through windows. But nothing prepared me for the actual feel of her.
Fuck.
“I'll take the restraints off if you behave yourself.” My thumb brushes her jaw as I hold her gaze. My voice lowers. She has to heed my warning, for her own damn good. “But you listen to me, and you listen good—you try anything at all, and those wrists are getting bound again. Only this time, I'll make damn sure you can't slip them.”
She nods and doesn't speak. She turns her face away, and I have to force myself to release her chin. To step back. To give her the illusion of space, even though we both know there's nowhere in this cabin she can go that I won't follow.
“Am I—can I—” She blows out a breath. “Can I go outside?”
“No.”
She frowns. “Can I call my mother?”
“No.”
“Can I—” Her voice breaks. “Can I do anything?”
I sigh and nod. “Of course. You can sleep. You can eat. You can read. I got you some books.” Her eyes widen. “You can watch your shows. I'll get you whatever you want to keep yourself busy for now, and I will let you outside, but you'll have to be with me. I'll buy groceries if you want to cook. I got a few things at the bookstore, and I’ll get you anything you want to occupy yourself.”
Damn near agonized over what to buy her. She loves to color and doodle in her free time, though she hasn't lately with finals and Crowning demanding her time. “You can do whatever you want, really, you just can't leave. Understand?”
She's quiet for a long moment. “Fine. I won't fight you for now because I'm starving,” she says petulantly. “And it's fucked up how much you know about me.” She sighs. “Did you say you have… bread and pasta?”
That's my girl. I stifle a smile because I really don't want toscare her.
“Aye.”
Then, softer, almost pleading, “Please, can I have your first name?”
I swallow hard. Will she recognize anything at all? If she hears the wordMcCarthy, I might lose every possible thread of credibility I have with her. Who knows what her mother’s told her about her father and our family?
I swallow hard. “You can call me Ashland.”
“Ashland,” she says in that absolutely perfect, beautiful voice. My heart aches. It's like hearing a note that only an angel can sing.
“Ashland.” I swallow hard, repeating my own damn name for reasons I don't understand. “Aye, lass.”
“Please, Ashland,” she whispers. “Take off the restraints.”
I want to give her everything she's ever fucking wanted on a goddamn platter.
“If I take them off, will you do what I say, like a good girl?”
She holds my gaze for a beat and swallows hard, then says the one thing that might make me lose the last shred of self-control I have.
“Yes, sir.”
Chapter Seven
Bianca
I pridemyself on staying calm in intense situations, but… I don't know if I can, not here, not now. I'm doing my best, but I feel frantic and flailing, like I need to break something or run.
But… how?
