She begins nodding, but then realizes what I said. “You’reasking?”
“It seems I am, though I wouldn’t get used to it.” At least I’m capable of being honest.
“I took my boots off,” she replies, as if to explain why she can’t leave this very moment.
“Do you usually sleep with your boots on?” My question was made in jest to show I think she’s being impractical.
“Yes, but I thought it would be okay with the door locked.” She leans to the left, looking around me, probably for her boots.
I grab her shoulders and direct her attention to me. “Why?”
“I didn’t think anyone could steal them with the door locked.”
“That was a concern before?” I’m not sure why this surprises me. Hell, the boots she wore when she arrived were two sizes too small, but she crammed her feet into them anyway.
“For me it was,” she admits.
Rage simmers in my soul. If I were able to shift to her father’s prison from here, I would already be gone. Instead, I begin to make a list for the next time I see him. First, I’m going to saw off his toes one by one, then force him to wear shoes that are five sizes too small until his feet rot off from lack of blood flow and infection. After he heals, I’ll do it all over again.
“Ziv?” My name on her lips pulls me from my dark thoughts. I feel her tiny fingers prying at my fist as blood weeps betweenmy fingers. The crescent-shaped cuts from my nails heal almost immediately, leaving my palm with a tiny amount of drying blood I wipe off on my pants.
“You don’t need to sleep with your boots on anymore, little flower. No one will ever take anything from you again,” I vow.
Her lips curl in a half smile, but it looks more sad than anything else. “Sure, okay,” she agrees easily, and I know she thinks I’m full of shit. I want to prove how wrong she is and make her believe me, but it’s her breezy acceptance that stops me, that and the sorrow shining in her eyes. There’s nothing I could say that would convince her, but I will show her she can trust me. It will just take time.
BRIAR
A glazed look washes over Ziv’s features, and at first, I just stay still and quiet, not wanting to disturb him, but when blood drips from his hand, I can no longer stand idly by. I say his name more than once, but he doesn’t give any indication he can hear me, so I place my fingers on the back of his hand as gently as I can. I really don’t want to startle him and end up tossed like the mattress. When that doesn’t stir him, I say his name again, much louder, and work to open his fist.
He finally blinks and unlocks his fingers curled into his palms. I release my hold as quickly as possible and give himroom to breathe as I stand back. “You don’t need to sleep with your boots on anymore, little flower. No one will ever take anything from you again.”
His words make me smile, even if I don’t believe them. “Sure, okay. Give me a second.” I excuse myself to get away from him as fast as I can before I do something stupid, like throw my arms around his waist to hug him for being too nice. I pretend I have to find my shoes, but I know exactly where they are. I just wanted an excuse not to stare at him for a few seconds. My head is filling with stupid fuzzy thoughts a female like me has no business entertaining.
When my shoes are laced and I feel like I can look at Ziv without conveying my thoughts, I tell him, “I’m ready.”
He tips his chin up and makes a grumbly sound. “You’ll be with me for the rest of the day,” he says, looking past me at the corner of the room. I glance in that direction, as if he could be talking to someone else, but then I remember we’re alone.
Without another word, he turns, hauls the door open, and looks under his arm, expecting me to exit in front of him. I scamper ahead, ducking under his arm, even though I don’t need to, and wait for him in the hall.
The corridor is eerily empty as he guides me through the building. I wish I could say I’m getting a hang of the layout, but I would be lying. I didn’t intentionally find myself in an area I shouldn’t have been in last night, I really thought I was on my way back to my cell. It doesn’t help that I never seem to pay attention when I should be. I get so easily distracted by my company or lost in my thoughts. Even now, I know we’ve gone up at least two flights of stairs, but it could be more, and I have no idea in which direction.
I stop when Ziv does, standing near a wooden door without any other identifying marks. He places his palm on the center of the wood, and I hear the latch click open.
He pushes the door in and steps back, inviting me to go in first. The room is dark, making me glance over at him with wide eyes, hoping he will go ahead of me, but he just waits patiently.
“Trust me,” he says, but there’s a softness to his tone that implies he’s also asking. Keeping my eyes on his face, I step one foot into the dark space, then the other. I search the obscurity, not feeling as uneasy as I would have thought, especially when I inhale. It smells like sweet dark cherries and almonds—Ziv.
I glance over my shoulder just in time to see him step in behind me and seal the door shut. Warm light builds until I can make out every corner of the expansive space and everything in it, which isn’t much. There’s a squishy seating area with lots of pillows along the wall, and a wooden table low enough to put your feet on in front of a chair that looks large enough to actually hold Ziv. “Did you have that specially made?” I blurt out.
He does that grunting thing in response and tells me, “Take your boots off.” I don’t waste time wondering if he’s aggravated with me in general, or if it’s my shoes in particular that pissed him off.
While I’m bent over, unlacing my boots, he moves past me and disappears through an open door. I take the opportunity to look around again, trying to catch any details I may have missed, but the room is just as barren of personal items as my own. If it wasn’t for his scent being so strong, I wouldn’t guess this was his room at all.
I use the side of my foot to line up my boots near the wall while I wait for Ziv to return and explain what we’re doing here. Long seconds pass with only soft shuffling sounds emanating from the direction he went. Eventually, he emerges from the room, and my mouth drops open before I get a chance to turn my head away and avert my eyes. Ziv has removed his leather pants and tunic, leaving him bare from the waist up, and his thin linen bottoms don’t do much in the way of concealment.If it wouldn’t draw too much attention to myself, I would cover my heated cheeks with my hands to hide the flush, but I’d much rather pretend the image of him and his perfect body aren’t ingrained in my head.
“Are you hungry?” he questions, as if walking around nearly nude is absolutely normal.
“Um…”
