Page 76 of Merciless Prince
Not that I needed to fight. Killian was trying a new torture method on me—neglect.
Since the depraved fake-cutting incident, he’d basically left me here to rot. We’d only spoken once, for a couple of minutes on my second day here, and he only ventured down to the dungeon to drop off my daily sandwich and water. Apart from that, I didn’t see or hear from him.
I knew what he was doing. He was hoping I’d become so bored and stir-crazy from the isolation that I’d wind up spilling my guts to him in order to end the torment. It wasn’t going to work, though. He had no idea how easily I could entertain myself.
I could close my eyes and play an entire movie in my head from start to finish, or I could dream up a script for a new play or TV show. In the latter, I always cast myself and my friends in the starring roles so I could pretend we were back together, hanging out and going on adventures.
In reality, no one missed me.
It wasn’t that my friends didn’t care about me. They just had no idea that I was missing.
Killian told me all about it on my second day in this pit of despair. He told me he’d taken my phone and sent a message to everyone I had regular contact with to let them know about my ‘new situation’.
According to the story, I’d received an exciting offer from an indie film company. They wanted me to replace an actress who’d dropped out of their latest project due to illness, and it was a starring role, which meant I’d be crazy to turn it down. The only caveat was that I had to start right away.
Filming was supposedly taking place somewhere deep in the Adirondacks, and there wasn’t much cell service available in the area. Internet access was also spotty and unreliable. Therefore, no one needed to worry if they couldn’t get in contact with me for a while. If everything went according to plan, I would return in two months when filming wrapped, and then I would resume my studies at Bellingham next semester.
Because of that, weeks or even months could pass before my friends started to worry about me.
By then, I’d probably be dead.
I sighed and opened my eyes, staring at the gray floor in front of me. I needed to pee, but that involved walking over to the underground stream, squatting by the edge, and relieving myself on the dirty ground like an animal. After that, I’d reach into the dark stream with cupped hands and splash some water between my legs to clean myself. That was the worst part of the undignified process, because the water was freezing.At least it was fresh, though. It was the only thing keeping me somewhat clean in this dank hellhole, and I could also drink it to make up for the measly amount of bottled water Killian provided each day.
Another positive of the dungeon—if you could really call anything about this placepositive—was how easily the thick stone walls blocked out the elements. Even though it was cold down here all the time, it wasn’t unbearable. If Killian had trapped me somewhere above ground instead, the harsh late fall weather would’ve left me hypothermic within a day due to the lack of clothing and heating.
I was naked all the time now, because I’d been using the nurse costume as a makeshift mat to sleep on so that I didn’t have to lie directly on the dirty floor. Killian had refused to provide me with anything else to wear, let alone a mattress or blanket to sleep on, and I’d decided that I’d rather remain naked than wear my dirty underwear from a week ago just to maintain a modicum of modesty. I couldn’t wash it in the stream, either, because it wouldn’t dry afterwards due to the lack of fresh air flowing through the place.
Modesty didn’t matter much down here, anyway. Killian had already seen me naked and spread-eagled on a board, so there was nothing for me to hide anymore. I also had zero reason to care about whether or not he found my body attractive. In fact, I hoped he was disgusted by me.
I let out a soft groan and squeezed my thighs together. My bladder was so full it hurt. Just as I was about to make my way over to the babbling stream to relieve myself, I heard the creak of a heavy wooden door. The sound was followed by heavy footsteps.
Killian had arrived with my daily meal.
I sat up straight, mouth already watering. Before my imprisonment, I never liked club sandwiches, but now I spent at least two hours a day thinking about them and wishing Killian would bring me an entire platter of them. They even appeared in my dreams sometimes.
When Killian finally reached me, my eyes widened. There was no plate in his hand. No bottle of water. Just a blue plastic shopping bag.
“Where’s my sandwich?” I asked in a hollow voice, digging my nails into my palms.
I sounded needy and desperate, but I didn’t care. Iwasneedy and desperate. I hadn’t eaten since yesterday, and my empty stomach had been growling for hours. In fact, that was the main reason I needed to pee so badly—I’d been gulping down cold water from the stream in order to trick myself into feeling full.
“I don’t have any food for you right now,” Killian said as he untied the handles of the bag.
I crossed my arms. “So this is your latest way to torture me? Starvation?”
“I see you’ve gone back to being a drama queen,” he said with a derisive snort, tipping the contents of the bag out on the floor. The pile contained a rose-pink sweater with silvery flecks in the fabric, a pair of jeans, underwear, socks, and a black pair of boots.
I recognized all of it. It was my own clothing. Killian must have gone to my dorm at Bellingham to collect it.
“What’s going on?” I asked, pulse accelerating. I knew he wouldn’t bring me things that belonged to me out of the goodness of his heart.
He ignored my question.
“Uncuff yourself and get dressed,” he commanded, handing me the key to my chain.
I hurriedly did as he said. Not because I liked following his orders—I was just happy to have proper clothes again. My own clothes, too. The familiarity made me feel somewhat safe and comforted despite the nightmare I was trapped in.
When I was fully dressed, Killian roughly grabbed my right arm and forced me to walk beside him.
