Avenger(49)

I opened my mouth before he became angry and smacked me or flicked ice cream in my hair.

“Good?” He asked when I’d swallowed.

“Mhmm,” I nodded.

He gave me another bite.

Once all the ice cream was gone, I asked, “Where-where am I?”

“Oh, come on Sophie, you know I can’t tell you that,” he patted my cheek like I was a small child—although, it was a little more than a pat since my cheek was left with a sting. “Good girls know better than to ask questions.”

“Sorry,” I bowed my head, my lashes fanning my cheeks as I tried to appear innocent. I needed to gain his sympathy, which was the dumbest thing ever since he had kidnapped me. Ugh.

“It’s okay,” he gently brushed my hair back from my forehead and took my chin between his warm fingers so I was forced to look at him. “I understand why you’re curious. I would be too. But those questions will get you into trouble and you don’t want that, do you?”

“No,” I shook my head, trying to hide my revulsion at being touched by him.

“I’m glad you understand.” He leaned closer to me and my body stiffened. I expected him to try to kiss me, but he didn’t. He stopped, inhaling the air swirling around us. “You smell so good. So sweet.” Yeah, and that’s not creepy at all.

“Uh…thanks?” What the heck was supposed to say? I didn’t want to piss him off and I’m pretty sure saying nothing would have made him mad.

“I’m sure you’re thirsty. I’ll be back with some water.” He grabbed the bowl off the side table and left the room.

My stress didn’t ease, knowing he’d be back soon.

He had brought me a TV in here, but he only turned it on when he felt like it and always put it on some random channel that ended up making me fall asleep out of boredom. Well, played Travis. Well, freakin,’ played.

Until you were alone, with just your thoughts, you didn’t realize what true boredom was. This was hell…or at least my version of it. And it wasn’t like Travis really talked to me much when he visited, and I didn’t say much to him either since I was scared of making him mad. There was a lot I was dying to ask him, but I knew if I did, he’d probably slit my throat. I was the most curious about the mutants. Where were they? Were they here, in this house, existing alongside me? Or did he keep them somewhere else? If they weren’t here, then who was here? Because from the noises I heard, it was blatantly obvious that Travis wasn’t the only person who existed outside this room. I wondered if I’d live long enough to get those questions answered. It was a morbid thought to have. But I’d been here so long, and with Travis’ temper, I figured it was only a matter of time before he went nutso on me. He’d been relatively tame with me—even the slaps lately had hardly been worth complaining about. I wondered what that meant, and figured it couldn’t possibly be anything good.

I glanced down at my prominent bump, biting my lip as I fought tears. Would I ever get to see my baby? Hold him? Kiss him? My throat constricted painfully. I was only staying sane by not thinking about those kinds of things. But the longer I was here, the harder it was to ignore such morbid thoughts.

The door opened again, and just like every other time, my heart skipped a beat in my chest. Each time the door opened, I expected it to be the last time.

Travis appeared with a glass full of ice water. I licked my lips as I watched a trickle of condensation snake its way down the clear glass and soak into the skin of Travis’ hand. I was so thirsty. In fact, I was so dehydrated that if I wasn’t chained to this bed and was capable of more strength than what it took to swat a fly, I would so tackle Travis to the ground and kill him for the water. Another thing I had learned, going without water was more painful than any of the physical stuff. My throat burned with my need for the simple substance.

“Here.” Travis placed a pink bendy straw between my lips. Who would’ve thought that a sociopath would own brightly colored bendy straws? This guy was so difficult to figure out.

Once all the water was gone, I mewled in protest.

“More,” I croaked hoarsely. I wanted to snatch the glass from his hands and crunch on the ice. “I need more,” I begged. A single tear escaped my eye and his thumb flicked out to wipe it away. So quick I couldn’t be sure I saw right, his thumb was in his mouth. Did he seriously just lick my tear off his finger? Um, gross.

“Sorry, no can do, the boss man wouldn’t like that,” he quipped.

Boss man?

“Boss man?” I voiced.

Travis paled, his dark eyes threatening to pop out of his skull. “Don’t ask questions!” He yelled, spit flying everywhere. My cheek stung and then began to throb and I realized he’d slapped me. “Don’t. Ask. Questions.” He repeated, each word punctuated by a heavy breath. His face was quickly going from white, to pink, to a dangerous red color.