Virgin Bride(75)

It’s dangerous. He’s handsome and striking, but I can’t let myself be fooled.

“Tell me about yourself,” he says finally as I’m finishing up my food.

I cock my head at him. “Why?”

“I want to know you, Riley.”

“There’s nothing to know.”

He grins at me. “Come on. We’re stuck in this together. We might as well try and make it work.”

I cock my head. What does he mean, we’re stuck? I’m the one that’s a freaking prisoner. He can leave whenever he wants to.

“What are your parents like?” he presses.

“My mom is dead,” I say, not sure why.

“I’m sorry. When?”

“A long time ago. I was a baby.”

He nods. “So you didn’t know her?”

“No. I mean, not really. I have some home movies of her but I never knew her.”

“I didn’t know my mother, either,” he says, leaning back against the wall. I watch him, curious, wondering what he’s aiming at. “She died when I was two. Drunk driver hit her while she was out buying groceries.” He turns his head toward me. “What was your father like?”

“I don’t want to talk about my family,” I say sternly.

“Yeah,” he says, smiling. “My dad was an asshole, too.”

I stare at him, not saying a word. He has no clue what I went through. He has no clue what my father was like.

“It’s always like that, right?” he continues. “You’re born to assholes and you try not to let them make you an asshole, too, but you usually fail.” He stretches his arms up in the air and I get a glimpse of his strong biceps and the tattoos that cover his arms. He drops them down into his lap and looks at me. “My dad was a real piece of shit. He was a marine in Vietnam and pushed me into the military. I guess that’s why I turned out the way I did.”

“You were in the military?”

He nods. “A long time ago.”

“How did you end up here?”

He smiles a little cryptically and looks away. “That’s a complicated story.”

“I have time.”

“No, you don’t.” He looks back at me with a serious expression. “Do you understand what kind of trouble you’re in?”

I stare at him, feeling the terror that I’ve been trying to stave off since this all happened begin to crawl its way up my guts.

“I know,” I say finally.

He puts his hand on my knee. I feel a thrill run down my spine and I don’t flinch away.

“I’m here to help you. As much as you think I’m not, I am.” He removes his hand then stands up and faces me. “Now. Strip.”

I stare at him, mouth hanging open. “What?”

“Strip. Take off your clothes.”

I shake my head. “No.”

“Riley.” He crosses his arms. “Strip for me. If you do, I’ll bring you some more blankets. Maybe some books to read. You’re bored in here, aren’t you?”

I stare at him, fists clenched. “I’m not going to strip.”

He steps closer and I watch his muscular body. “I can make life easier, Riley, my little pet. Take off your clothes. I’ll bring them back when they’re clean.”

I stare into his eyes and for a second I can imagine him staring at my body, maybe even touching me. I can see his fingers graze along my skin.

But I’m not doing it. I shake my head. “I’m fine,” I say.

“Food. Comfort. Pleasure. I can give you these things. All you have to do is take off your clothes.”

“No,” I say again.

He smiles. “Okay. Have a good day.” He opens the door to my cell and disappears, shutting it and locking it behind him.

I stare at the closed door for a second then I pick up the tray he left behind and I throw it against the far wall. I stare at it for a long time, angry and excited all at once. I wish I had taken my clothes off for him, just to see his eyes gaze at my body, but I can’t do it. I can’t bring myself to give him what he wants.

I’ll fight for as long as I can.





8





Riley





He doesn’t come back for two days.

I’m left alone in that cell with nothing to do but stare at the barren walls. At first, I think he’s just busy and maybe he’ll come back soon. Instead, there’s nothing, and soon the first day passes. My stomach is rumbling as I realize that he’s not coming to feed me.

The next day is the same. I hear nothing and see nothing, and no food comes. I begin to think that he forgot about me, or worse, he gave up on me. Maybe he doesn’t care about me anymore and I’m going to be left to rot in this cell.