Knowing I’d been in the bathroom for far longer than ten minutes, I hurried to dry off and get dressed. I tucked the comb into my sleeve and picked up the jar before inhaling deeply and exiting the bathroom.
I didn’t know where to go or what to do, but I didn’t want to ask or even look at Sugar because I didn’t want to acknowledge anything that happened in his bathroom—except for the jar.
“What should I do with this?” I asked, keeping my eyes fixed on the jar.
He took it from my hands and placed it on the table. “Sit.”
I glanced at the chair my ass had become well acquainted with and desperately wanted to ask if I could sit somewhereelse, but I didn’t. It was my way of attempting to reestablish the boundaries that were clearly broken in the bathroom.
But then I felt offended when he taped my wrists together and taped me to the chair the same way he had each time before.I thought we shared a moment.What the fuck was wrong with me?
After giving it some thought, I determined I wasn’t handling the stress of my second murder and not knowing where Birdie was well. That had to be it.
“Are you hungry?” Sugar asked, interrupting my self-analysis.
I wasn’t. Not in the slightest. But I knew I shouldn’t pass up the opportunity to eat because I didn’t know when I’d get another chance. “I could eat.”
Several minutes later, someone knocked on Sugar’s door. When he opened it, I couldn’t see around him, but I heard a woman’s voice. “Do you want me to bring it in?”
“I got it,” Sugar replied.
“Well, I hope this doesn’t mean what I think it does.”
“It doesn’t,” Sugar said as he pulled the cart inside.
I caught a glimpse of her face, and she seemed to be quite pleased with his answer. “Good. I might miss you.”
Sugar let the door close without acknowledging her comment and rolled the cart directly in front of me. It was so close it was almost touching my chest. When I looked at him in confusion, he grinned and removed the cover from my plate, revealing eggs, rice, and … “What the fuck isthat?”
“Pureed SPAM.”
My face contorted with disgust. “Why the fuck—?” I started but changed course when I suddenly realized the answer—he was going to make me eat using only my mouth. I glanced at the pink-colored goo on my plate. “I will remember this,” I vowedquietly, before I pursed my lips and slurped up as much SPAM as I could.
Fuck him.
Smirking, I raised my head. “I was in prison for seven years. That’s amateur shit.”
He shrugged. “I have to feed you, but I don’t have to fucking trust you.”
I wouldn’t have trusted me either if I were him, but I didn’t tell him that. Instead, I finished my meal in silence. It wasn’t hard to eat without my hands, but it was messy. I felt like I needed another shower.
“Can I wipe my face off please?”
“Sure.” He returned moments later and placed a wet towel on the table in front of me.
As I leaned forward and rubbed my face against the wet towel, I realized I didn’t feel as bad about stabbing him as I initially did.
THIRTEEN
SUGAR
What the fuck is taking so long?
Several hours had passed, and I was still sitting in my room with the bitch who stabbed me taped to a chair. Even though I was thankful for the quiet, I was pretty sure she was pretending to be asleep, which made me think she was up to something.
I was considering taking a fake nap on the couch to see if she would try anything when I heard Prez’s knock on my door. “Whisker.”
When I opened it, Whisker, Biscuit, and Cookie were standing there with grim looks on their faces. Whisker glanced at Kalani and motioned for me to step outside.
