Virgin Bride(76)

I don’t want to die in some prison in Mexico. I never got to live at all, and now I’m starving to death alone away from everything I know.

My thoughts drift to the darkest parts of my life. I can’t help myself. I relive some of the worst beatings my father gave me. He used to call me trash, a pathetic loser, a bitch and a whore. He would lock me in my room and not let me leave for weeks at a time. All because I’d do some tiny, minor thing incorrectly and send him into a rage. My whole life was spent trying to avoid those rages.

He can’t touch me now, but that thought doesn’t comfort me. I may be far from his reach, but I’m still starving to death.

Where is Logan? Why isn’t he helping me? He said he wouldn’t hurt me, but I feel like I’m pretty hurt. He could at least give me something to eat. I have water from the spigot in the wall, but that’s not enough. I don’t know how long I can last without food. Probably a week or more, but I really don’t know.

The day drags on and I feel the darkness pushing in at the edges of my mind. I don’t know what to do. I wish I had just given Logan what he wanted two days ago, maybe I wouldn’t be in this mess. It’s not like he’s some hideous mutant. Far from it, actually. The man is gorgeous and clearly very strong.

I just can’t trust him. I want to keep some measure of self-respect, though clearly everything they’re doing here is meant to take that away from me. I went from one hell right into another, and I just need some small glimmer, some tiny ray of sunshine. I need a little hope to help me get through this.

Eventually night comes and I fall asleep. I don’t dream, or at least I don’t remember them. I wake up to the early morning light piercing through the small window at the top of my cell.

When I roll over, I open my eyes and see a tray. It’s sitting on the ground, full of food. I stare at it, trying to decide if I’m dreaming or not, but it’s real. I reach out tentatively and take a piece of bread.

“Good morning, pet.”

I look up, surprised. Logan is sitting against the far wall, a smile on his face.

I hold the toast and stare at him, not sure what to do. He’s watching me with that grin, and I don’t know what he wants. He’s so handsome, with tattoos snaking up his arms. He’s wearing a short sleeve black t-shirt and jeans. I can see a knife in a holster on his belt.

“Go ahead,” he says. “Eat.”

I take a bite of the toast, watching him, but before I know it I’ve wolfed down the whole thing. I sit up and grab the tray, eating my fill. The world feels clearer and better after I’ve finished eating, and I realize just how much of a toll the hunger was taking on me.

The whole time I eat, Logan watches me. He doesn’t say anything and doesn’t move. I don’t know what he’s doing, but I feel like he’s appraising me, like I’m some expensive furniture in a shop or something like that.

I don’t care, though. All I care about is getting something to eat. When I’m finished, I lean back against the wall and look back at him.

“How was that?” he asks me.

“Where have you been?”

He smiles and shrugs. “I’ve been around.”

“You were letting me starve.”

“No,” he says. “I wasn’t.”

“You didn’t feed me for two days. I’ve been ...alone.”

“I know,” he says. “I have something for you.” He stands up and opens the cell door. He walks outside and comes back in with a beautiful, thick blanket.

He hands it to me and I take it from him. It’s soft, so soft, and I can’t help but wrap it around my body. It gets so cold in my cell at night and the single blanket they gave me isn’t nearly enough.

He smiles and leaves again. This time he returns with an extra pillow, big and fluffy, plus three books. He hands me the pillow and places the books down on the floor.

“What is all this?” I ask him

“Comfort,” he says. “Food. Books. Whatever you want.”

I watch him, skeptical. He offered me all of this before, but I refused him. I don’t know why he’s bringing it to me now.

“I can give you pleasure,” he says. “A lot of pleasure. More than you’ve ever known in your life.” He stands over me and for a second, I feel a chill run down my spine.

“All I have to do is obey, right?” I ask him softly.

“That’s right.” He kneels down in front of me and reaches out. I don’t flinch away. I let him take my chin in his rough hand. I stare into his eyes, trying to hold back my anger and my desire in equal measures.

“What do you want?” I ask him.