My eyes wandered to the knife on the counter. It was sharp enough to ... hurt. Jax drummed his fingers along the top of the fridge while he stood in front of it looking for something else. I moved closer to the counter, never taking my eyes off of the knife. If I can get my hands on it I can force him to let me out.
“If you’re planning on sticking me, I would hope you’d think to use a better knife than that, Riley,” he said, still engrossed in the contents of the fridge. “Something larger, sharper; something that would make me wonder if I was going to survive the attack. Not a knife used to spread condiments on a sandwich.”
He shook his head in amusement, before he finally pulled out a big plastic jug of water and came back to the counter. Setting it down, he reached for the knife and cut the sandwich in half, then held it out to me.
“If you want to have a go, please do. But make sure that I don’t survive, Riley. I’d be quite upset if you attacked me and left me with scars,” he warned seriously.
Take the knife and ram it through his throat! my inner heroine screamed.
“No thank you,” I replied to him and her. I pulled my shirt around myself again and stood there for a moment. “Jax, can I ask you something?”
“Yes?” he asked, placing the knife down.
“Why am I dressed like this?”
He leaned forward, putting his elbows on the counter and crossing his arms. A genuinely happy smile crossed his face and he looked me up and down for a moment before he answered, “It reminds me of Bondi Beach, the way you’re dressed. I have a lot of good memories from childhood on that beach. God, I haven’t been there in years,” he said wistfully.
“How come?” I asked curiously.
“Are you really interested? I can tell you now and chew up your ‘free’ time or I can tell you tonight after our lesson,” he replied.
I sat down on the stool across from him. It was obvious that I was in a homemade version of Fort Knox, so free time wasn’t really needed or wanted.
“I’m interested,” I replied, crossing my left leg over the right. I used one hand to hold my shirt together and placed an elbow on the counter.
Jax smiled at me and took a bite of his sandwich. I waited patiently for him to chew and swallow the piece in his mouth because I had another question for him.
“Ask me. I can see it in your eyes,” he said, wiping his mouth with a napkin.
“Where’s Bondi Beach?” I asked sheepishly.
“About one hundred miles south,” he replied with a smirk.
“What? That doesn’t make sense. I’ve never heard of a ‘Bondi Beach’ anywhere near Wyoming,” I replied in confusion.
Jax finished his sandwich in silence. He took the plate to the sink and washed it thoroughly followed by his hands, then came back to retrieve the fork. Once that was washed and he had the dishwasher properly loaded, he took the sponge, wet it, and wiped the counter clean. Clearing his throat, he took his place on the stool across from me again and drummed his fingers on the countertop.
“What makes you think you’re still in Wyoming, Riley? Or in America for that matter?” he asked conversationally.
“Why wouldn’t I think that?” I countered reasonably. “I don’t have a passport Jax; no airport, or any port for that matter, would let me out of the United States.”
He smiled and got to his feet. He left the kitchen and told me he’d be right back and not to move. I sighed resting my chin in the palm of my hand. I didn’t believe him and he knew it.
“May I have your hands please?” he asked walking back into the kitchen. His hands were behind his back obviously hiding something from me.
“Why?” I asked suspiciously.
“Because I’m going to take you outside, and I’d rather that you not try to run away,” he replied simply.
This is your chance, Riley. Take it! Run and scream ‘fire’ so people pay attention!
“Your hands,” he prompted softly.
I slowly climbed off of the stool and walked over to Jax. He gave me a small smile as I held my hands out in front of me.
“Not that way, this way,” he said turning me around.
With swift movements, he pulled my hands behind my back and secured some kind of leather cuffs around my wrists. I stood in place while he buckled them securely, before turning me to the side and snapping a chain in between them. He balled the chain around his fist and ran his free hand gently down the side of my face smiling at me.
“Don’t you look absolutely beautiful like this,” he whispered leaning down into my ear.
Feeling his breath on the side of my face again was so intoxicating that I closed my eyes for a moment. I was getting the same familiar feeling I had in the bookstore.