Page 25 of Mason

“Call me that again, and I’ll break your fucking jaw,” I promise, pushing to my knees. “It’s Emily. Your friend knew my name, too. Or is that your lover? You’re into the cold, dead-eyed look, huh? I bet you beat off to pictures of serial killers.”

I’m trying to bait him again, eager for another chance at freedom. If they kidnapped me because of Papa, I’ll probably end up dead in the trunk of a burning car or shark food off the coast.

He lets out a low whistle with the shake of his head, still fumbling with the wrist of his fleece. “You’re a piece of work.”

“Better than a piece of shit,” I volley with a shrug.

His eyes jerk from his fleece to me. “We saved your life, you unappreciative brat. Would you rather be dead right now?”

I bat away the image his words conjure up, one where I lay sprawled on a medical examiner’s table with my guts out for autopsy. I watch an embarrassing amount of forensic shows, so I’m well-versed in that sort of shit. “You chained me to a toilet.”

His mouth spreads into another grin. “A bathtub, actually.”

“Same fucking difference,” I fire back.

They’re not, though. I could break a toilet loose with enough force. That tub isn’t budging. I know because I’ve tried all goddamn day.

“Actually, you shit in one and bathe in the other unless you’re a savage. You didn’t shit in our tub, did you? I didn’t realize Anthony raised such a wild animal.”

“Can you leave?” I ask. “I enjoyed being alone a lot more.”

I’m lying through my teeth. Sitting alone for hours on end in the unknown is more tortuous than dealing with this schmuck. At least when he’s here, I have a chance of getting away if I can hurt him. That, and he’s a hell of a lot friendlier than his buddy from Down Under.

He lifts a brow. “You don’t want food and water, princess?”

I’m cold, but I ignore the coat he gave me last night, choosing to wrap my arms around myself instead, leaving it in a forgotten heap. “I don’t want to eat with you.”

Honestly, I’m so thirsty that I’m amazed I can speak. I tried the water from the tub after desperation set in earlier, and within a few sips, I vowed I’d rather die of dehydration than the eventual water parasite it’d give me. I’ve never had tap water, and if that’s a preview, I never want to try it again. Papa has always had spring water shipped into our place.

The stranger waves between us, smiling stupidly again, showing off perfectly straight white teeth that I want to kick out of his skull. “I’m sensing a lot of hostility here. Were you a mean girl in school?”

I plaster on a saccharine smile. Maybe he’ll get close again and I’ll get a shot at his balls. A crushed testicle might get me out of here. “Were you a loser with no friends?”

He laughs. It’s deep, warm, and I hate how genuine it sounds. “Yup. Definitely a mean girl.”

I don’t give him whatever he’s seeking and stay quiet. I don’t know if he wants to be my friend or what, but I’m not interested. This isn’t Beauty and the Beast. I’m not his captive that he can woo with manners and a fucking library. I’ll happily choose the Gaston route with his head mounted on my wall.

Much to my disappointment, he doesn’t seem to mind the silent treatment. He makes himself at home, sitting with his back pressed to the wall across the room. He slides a hand into the plastic bag he brought and fishes out a liter of water that he rolls over.

The plastic bottle smacks against my knee, but I ignore it.

He reaches into the bag to roll two more after it, and while I’m busy glaring at the wall instead of him, he tosses something wrapped into my lap.

I don’t have to look to know it’s a sub sandwich. The smell of turkey and bacon wafts up to nose and I hold back a moan of delight. Secretly, I’m cheering inside about this gift, and my stomach betrays me with a low growl.

But I don’t look at him.

Well, I don’t until I’m smacked in the side of the head with something hard and plastic-wrapped.

“Really, asshole?” I snarl, finally turning and seeing a Snickers bar in my lap.

When I look over at him, he’s smiling. “You’re not you when you’re hungry.”

God, I hate this man.

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