On his fifth attempt, I still refused to eat. By my estimate, it had been two days since I’d last eaten, and the scent of the food made my stomach cry out. My insides gnawed at my resolve, rumbling voraciously and lusting heavily as the steam from the plate he’d placed under my nose assaulted me. He gave me no information, so I took in nothing.
Finally, the seventh try, he caved in.
“What do you want to know?” he asked after I refused the spoon he’d pushed against my lips.
I felt like I’d won some grand prize. I was a victorious captive, even if minutely.
“What’s your name?”
“I’m not answering any descriptive or incriminating questions.”
“Okay. Who are you working for?”
“Incriminating, you forfeit a question.”
No, “I—”
He shoved a spoon of warm, creamy soup into my mouth. I moaned as the delicious flavor melted on my tongue.
“If you break the rules, you forfeit a question and still have to take the food.”
It could’ve tasted horrible and my senses would’ve turned it into a five-star meal. I was so hungry, I let him feed me another spoon before realizing he was avoiding questions and preying on my hunger. The next spoon he tried to push at me, I shook my head.
“How old are you?”
“Forfeit.” I wanted to argue, but after having a sample of the soup, I really wanted another, so I accepted the spoon he pushed against my lips. He actually sounded amused. I think he knew all the questions I wanted answers to would fall into his forbidden area. I needed to be smarter about my questions before I forfeited each one and came out of this with nothing.
“Have you done this before?”
“Forf—”
“No! What am I allowed to ask?”
“Is that your next question?”
Ugh! “No, but you have to give me something. It’s just a yes or no answer. I won’t know any details about it.”
He was thinking. He’d say no. I’d never had a chance. He was never going to tell me anything. He was just indulging me to get me to eat before he walked out without ever giving me any answers.
“Yes.”
Oh… I was excited I’d gotten my first answer, but not at all happy with the response.
“Did she make it out alive?”
“He.”
“And that’s two questions.” He didn’t give me time to speak between the two spoons he fed me, and my stomach started to protest the food after being empty for so long.
“Did he make it out alive?”
“Forfeit.”
At this point, I should’ve stopped eating, but I wanted to know more, even if it meant hurling the meal I’d so desperately wanted. I knew my stomach wasn’t going to be able to endure much more food, so I needed to make the last few questions count.
“Why are you so angry?”
“It’s the only way I know to be.”
The blunt honesty in his answer broke my heart in a way that shouldn’t be possible.
I chewed slowly, considering my next question.
“The worst moment of my life was when a stranger drugged me and tied me to a bed. What’s yours?”
The spoon clanged into the bowl and I knew he was done. I pushed too far.
I jerked away from his touch as he moved his fingers into my hair, massaging my scalp. His touch unnerved me. My brave front wavered and real fear started to set in. It was the first time he touched me without any reason. He wasn’t massaging the cramp out of my wrist. He touched me… for his pleasure. What was he thinking? I wondered if he felt sorry for being responsible for my worst nightmare—if he regretted keeping me here at all.
“My worst moment was watching my mom die.”
I sucked in a sharp breath. He kept throwing me off balance every time he opened up.
He fell silent, almost as surprised as I was that he’d let that slip. He cleared his throat, his weight shifted off the bed, and then he left the room.
“Hey!” I was calling out to a shadow because I’d dug too deep, and I’d managed to turn his quick game of evasion into a real revelation.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Juliana
“When you get what you want from my dad, are you going to hurt me?”
Three days of questions and I’d probably only gotten twenty answers. Each day, I started looking forward to meal time more. He had started to get too touchy. He’d caress my skin for no reason at all, and I hoped my dad came through for me before he started wanting more than touches.
He had a way of just standing over the bed and watching me. It was intimidating and incredibly nerve-wracking. I’d finished the meal, and he wasn’t in the mood to answer any of my questions. He’d been even more reserved tonight.