by Lara Swann
I opened the first aid kit and quickly found a roll of white bandages. It was only as I drew it out and cut some off that I realized I didn’t have a clue what I was doing. And I was doing it one-handed.
Stupid pride.
Ignoring my stupidity, I attempted to awkwardly wrap the thing around my wrist, but keeping it balanced with one arm and trying to make it tight enough was a challenge, and - how is this meant to be tied again?
It wasn’t like I’d ever had the chance to join the Girl Scouts, damn it - clearly not an appropriate activity for Antonio Santini’s daughter.
I looked up to see him watching me, a smile playing at the corners of his mouth that only infuriated me more.
“What are you looking at, bastard?” I snapped as the bandage fell apart for the third time.
“You know,” he drawled it slowly as he worked his way through the pizza, “my name’s Leo. If you wanted to call me anything other than bastard and asshole, that is.”
“I think those suit you just fine.” I made my voice sugary-sweet and gave him a sarcastic smile.
He’d kidnapped me and was keeping me here against my will - he didn’t deserve anything better. Not that it seemed to phase him in the slightest, with his mouth quirking up as he shrugged and took another slice of pizza.
I turned back to the bandage and couldn’t restrain my sigh as any small victory in our verbal sparring was overshadowed by the fact that I was terrible at this.
“My offer still stands, you know. If you change your mind.”
I glanced up at him, ready to snap at the condescending amusement I expected to see there - only to find him watching me seriously for once, the cocky arrogance he’d displayed so far replaced by what almost seemed like real concern. I waited a few beats for it to fade, for the mocking that would no doubt follow, but those deep blue eyes were genuine.
I bit my lip and then, looking down again, reluctantly nodded. He didn’t say anything as he put the pizza down and went over to the sink to wash his hands - surprising me that he even bothered with that. It didn’t fit the rough murderer type. If rough murderers had a type. Which they had to, right?
He took up the chair in front of me again, and started taking items out of the first aid kit before gesturing for me to lay my arm on the table. I did, with the wrist up, and he took out an antibacterial wipe - making me feel stupid all over again for forgetting it.
“This will sting a little.” His voice was almost gentle as he glanced up at me, and any thought of responding with something sarcastic disappeared as I caught something unexpected in those blue eyes.
Instead, I just nodded, and turned my head away as he cleaned the cut with a care that I didn’t want to notice. I wasn’t sure what I’d seen in his expression but I didn’t want to know any more. His calloused fingers against my wrist were already making my pulse jump and spark, and anything else would just confuse my tired, worn-out mind further.
He was fixing an injury that he’d caused. That was all. One that only existed because he’d kidnapped me.
I forced myself to pull it together as he started wrapping the bandage expertly around me before tying it off, hoping he couldn’t feel the way my body reacted to his touch.
“There, should be good now.” There was no mockery in the simple satisfaction on his face, and I figured maybe he just liked doing things with his hands.
Then I blushed furiously as my mind leapt to other things he could be doing with his hands.
Like killing people. Don’t forget, Alessa. His handsome face held a gun to you without hesitation.
He moved back to the other side of the table and I flexed my wrist experimentally. Plenty of movement, but it was securely wrapped up.
“Thank you.” The words came reluctantly, and it felt somewhat wrong to say them to my kidnapper - but he’d helped me without mockery, and I couldn’t bring myself to ignore that.
A flash of surprise passed of his face, before he shrugged awkwardly and turned back to the pizza. My attention followed his, and now my stomach rumbled openly. I twisted in embarrassment, but either he hadn’t heard or he didn’t care, and I studied the pizza again.
It only took a couple more moments before I reached for a slice, shrugging. Small acts of defiance were fine, but when they only hurt me, what was the point? I was never going to go on a full-out hunger strike, so letting my pride get in the way of something I wanted suddenly seemed stupid - as did refusing to take anything from my captor.
The better strategy would be to take everything I could get, and use it as I could against him. The pizza would give me the energy to resist him again, so…I still won. Just so long as I remembered that whatever he offered me didn’t make him a good person. Pizza couldn’t override the karma debt of kidnapping and murder.
Feeling better about the decision, I took a quick bite, then wrinkled my nose in disappointment.
“It’s cold.”
“Well, it took us a little time to get to it,” the amusement returned to his expression, but this time I didn’t mind it so much. “Pizza’s good cold - but there’s a microwave over there if you want it.”
I stood up and went looking for a plate to stack a few pieces on. I didn’t get pizza often, and if I was going to take in way more calories than I should, I was going to make sure it was worth every bite. As I looked through the cupboards, it occurred to me that this was a kitchen - and it probably wouldn’t be hard to find a knife. My heart jumped in my chest, and my body tensed slightly at the thought. I should be trying to find a way out of here - an advantage, anything - every moment I could, and this could be a good opportunity.
My gaze drifted back to Leo sitting at the table, and I jumped as I caught the knowing look in his eyes while he watched me intently. I turned back to the cupboards uncertainly, not saying anything, but dissuaded enough from trying something. I wasn’t going to be able to sneak a knife while I was around him, and as for turning and swinging it at him…I had a good idea of my chances there. Disappointment and brief despair flared in my chest, but I pushed it away and found the plate I’d originally been searching for, refusing to look at Leo as I arranged the pizza on it.
Just forget it. Eat pizza. Get some sleep. You can work out what you’re going to do tomorrow.
Some part of me felt bad for giving up as I turned towards the microwave, but the more insistent part just wanted the pizza, and for things to be easy for a few brief moments.
The beeping of the microwave signaled it was done, and neither of us said anything as I sat back down and started eating. The air between us was tense again, alive with currents I couldn’t understand, and more than anything I just wanted to ignore it all.
So instead, I focused on the pizza - which tasted amazing, even if that was probably just because I hadn’t eaten much today, and junk food had always been a rare indulgence. Tonight I definitely felt like indulging.
When he was done, Leo stood and stretched, looking impatient for the first time as he watched me finish. I refused to rush, instead taking my time to enjoy it and feeling an odd mix of satisfaction and guilt at delaying him.
“C’mon. Let’s see if we can get at least a couple of hours’ sleep tonight.” Leo spoke as soon as I’d finished, and I thought I could hear the hint of exhaustion in his voice.
I followed him, preoccupied by trying to work out how I could take advantage of that exhaustion while trying to ignore the insistent pressure of my own. The violent emotions of this evening had drained me, and I felt dull and worn out - punctuated by moments of terror or despair as my mind returned to the reality of my situation.
We headed up the stairs and then Leo unlocked a door at the far end of the hall. It wasn’t until I stepped inside and saw the large double bed in the middle of the opposite wall that I finally realized what was going on.
“Oh no. Oh hell no.” I backed away from Leo, suddenly feeling like running out of the room entirely.
He turned to me as if he’d expected the objection,
but just shrugged, that glint of amusement back in his eyes and the ghost of a cocky smile on his face.
“Sorry, princess.”
“I am not sharing a room with you - absolutely not!” My eyes flared with outrage as I stared at him, but he didn’t budge.
“Not much choice, girl - you destroyed the other one.” He walked around me and shut the door, and that simple gesture had me shuddering.
No way. I couldn’t do this. Not after the way I’d reacted to him earlier…I couldn’t trust myself with this. Not to mention sleeping in the same room as my kidnapper was repulsive. I wanted to be as far away from him as possible.
He glanced over at me, but my disgust didn’t seem to mean anything to him - and to my shock, he started stripping off his shirt.
“No - stop! Don’t do that!”
I stared as the hard, sculpted muscles of his chest came into view, captivated by the casual way they moved and flexed as he shrugged the shirt off. His skin was covered in striking, dark tattoos - a lion’s head on one side, while an angel and demon fought on on the other. Another came around his side, its long, twisting body leading to a fanged snake’s open mouth.
I forced my head away before I could take in anything more, blushing furiously for staring - and at what I’d seen, and the way I wanted to look again. To never stop looking.
The low chuckle only made it worse, and I clenched my fists as Leo spoke, “Really, princess? Never seen a guy’s chest before?”
I felt the heat searing my cheeks as I refused to look at him. Of course I had - you couldn’t really get away from that, not with the occasional pool party, or the morons at school who just had to show off. Not that they had anything to show off, not compared to—
Oh, god help me.
I’d never really looked before though - I knew better, and it would only have led to dangerous thoughts. My classmates - hell, any boys - were off limits, and even if I might have felt rebellious once or twice, I wasn’t going to risk what would happen to them if I went too far. So I didn’t really have a whole range of male chests to compare to, but even if I did…I had a feeling that this one would still come out on top.
I cursed myself for the thought, trying to find something to say - some way to get him to cover up and forget this whole thing. Then the sound of a belt buckle caught my attention and I jerked, fighting the instinct to stare at the source of the sound.
“Leo!” My voice came out broken, like I couldn’t believe what was happening - and I used his name as a concession that I hoped would knock some sense into him.
Instead, he just laughed again, “Calm down, girl - I’ll keep the boxers on. Wouldn’t want to offend your sense of modesty, hmm?”
We were well past that.
I wanted to make a biting remark, but it was all I could do not to sink down and let the floor swallow me up. He should be the one to be ashamed and embarrassed, not me. But I’d seen things I shouldn’t, and now I was replaying them over in my mind and that terrible, rebellious part of me was hoping to see more forbidden things.
To prevent that from happening, I darted over to the other side of the room, putting the bed between us and refusing to look at him. I shouldn’t even be here with him at all. Sharing a room with a man—
The bed creaked as he slipped into it, and suddenly my anxiety skyrocketed.
“You’re not giving me the bed?!” I turned sharply to look at him, my concern over his lack of clothing completely overridden at the prospect of sleeping in the same bed as my captor.
Even so, I couldn’t help but look - the covers managed to hide most of that sinfully powerful body, but I could still see the top of his chest, the curve of muscles along his shoulders—
Oh please help me.
A heat stirred inside me at the sight - the thought - and I had to fall back on my outrage to stop it from overpowering me.
“It’s big enough for both of us.” His nonchalance was obvious, and I could tell he was surprised by the question. Bastard.
“It is not! I am not sharing a bed with you, asshole!” I wasn’t yelling. Not quite.
His expression shifted between amusement and annoyance as I glared at him, and he shrugged. “I gave you a bed of your own earlier - you tore it apart, remember? So now we’re sharing.”
I bit my lip hard, mind spinning as I tried to find a way out of this. “We could go back and fix it! It wasn’t broken, just thrown—”
“No. I said it before - after what happened there, you’re not leaving my sight.” His expression was hard now, any patience clearly having worn out, and I was torn between fighting some more or huddling terrified against the wall. “And, princess? Don’t think to try anything tonight - I sleep very lightly.”
The threat was obvious, and it chilled some of my anger, making me let it go with only a muttered, “You could have let me have the bed.”
Leo’s eyes sparked, but I wasn’t sure what was behind them as his gaze turned harsh. “You didn’t really expect me to be the chivalrous sort, did you, princess?”
He flicked the light off, and the words echoed in the sudden darkness. My gut twisted uncomfortably and the brief memory of his hands bandaging my wrist with care replayed in my mind - making me realize that yes, actually - somehow, I had.
More fool you, Alessa.
I stood awkwardly as I listened to him settle into bed, trying to work out what to do. I felt vulnerable and exposed like this, and the idea of getting into bed with him seemed like too much to bear. I glanced at the floor, but the thought of lying there in the open didn’t make me feel any better. I was already tired and uncomfortable, and I’d be damned if I’d give up the limited comfort of the bed because he was being an asshole.
It might break all of my father’s rules on propriety but this had to count as an exception, right? And it wasn’t like I had to tell him about it.
Scowling at Leo’s form in the bed, I inched closer, finally deciding that I wasn’t going to make myself suffer because of his inconsideration. I glanced down at myself, but the pretty chemise Viktor had asked me to put on earlier - had that really been the same day? - was a nighttime item anyway, and I didn’t dare slip down into just my underwear. This was already bad enough.
Taking a deep breath that should have been unnecessary, I slipped under the covers in one quick motion, keeping carefully to my side of the bed. Then I froze there, waiting for a reaction - but there was none. Listening carefully, I wondered whether Leo was sleeping already - but his breathing didn’t seem to be slow and deep yet.
Okay, just ignoring you then. Which is a good thing. You should ignore him too.
It took a few minutes, but I gradually let myself relax into the bed, trying to breathe slowly and calm down. Unfortunately, as we both settled into the deep silence of the night, I found myself far too aware of the weight of his body next to me. Images of his smooth, naked chest flitted into my mind, my imagination supplying its own ideas of what I might have seen if I’d watched while he pushed his pants down—
Stop it!
But it was so difficult, here where I could feel the heat of his body, where there was nothing to occupy me but thoughts of every slight look, every touch between us this evening. My own body’s fire was awakening again and as exhausted as I felt, and as much as I wanted nothing more than to drift off to sleep, I started to get restless. I turned over, away from him, and closed my eyes tight, but the awareness that there was a near-naked man right next to me was too much.
To force the fantasies that were quickly flitting through my mind away, I played the evening back over in its entirety - the murder, the kidnap. The blood. The fear and terror. The helplessness and despair.
It was too effective. Tears pricked my eyes and I bit my lip hard. I wouldn’t cry in front of him. I wouldn’t.
I don’t know how long I stayed like that, lost in the riotous emotions of the day, until I grew scared that even if I did sleep, I’d be plagued by nightmares.
When I could stand it no
longer I pushed up from the bed, not even caring about whatever he might think, and walked over to the window seat. I sat down and pulled my knees up to my chest, lifting one edge of the curtains to peer outside my prison.
It was dark, but my eyes had adjusted a while ago, and the moon cast a pearly glow down over the unkempt backyard. There were no streets to look over, or any chance of seeing anyone else, so my brief hope of attracting the attention of any passersby disappeared - but then if there’d been an opportunity for that, I was pretty sure Leo wouldn’t have let me come over here.
I glanced back instinctively, and was both surprised and unsurprised to see him propped up on an elbow on his side, watching me. I met his eyes in the dim light of the room, but neither of us said anything, just letting the tense silence grow between us.
I had no idea what he was thinking as he looked over at me - maybe he was just making it clear that he’d always be there, watching for any wrong move on my part. I shuddered at the idea, and turned back to the window, preferring the untidy landscape outside to the tension in the small room.
My forehead pressed against the cool glass while my dazed mind tried to process the events of the day - and how I was going to get out of here.
It seemed hopeless now - I obviously couldn’t beat Leo in a fight, and he never stopped watching me. He seemed to know about anything I could possibly exploit before I did, and he was far more experienced at this than I was.
I felt lost and wished my family were here. I’d even take my uncle’s rough, abrasive manner and my brother’s smug superiority over…whatever the hell Leo was. And my sisters…my eyes pricked with tears as I wondered if I’d ever see them again.
I bit my lip and thought about his comment earlier…whether he could possible mean it. Letting me go once he’d found out who had set up Viktor’s death. It was hard believe that he’d let me go running back to my father with a description of the man who’d kidnapped me.
But then, why not just kill you already, as he’d said?
I shuddered at that thought, but for some reason I couldn’t picture it. There was no doubt that he was capable of killing, and he was definitely terrifying enough at times that I knew his threats were real. But it didn’t seem like he wanted to. I’d railed against him, insulting and yelling and being as obstinate as I could all evening, and he hadn’t done anything more than smirk at me about it. I’d tried to hit him over the head and escape, and…nothing.