Page 50 of Redemption

“You mean you won’t let me go,” I counter acerbically.

He shakes his head, but it’s not a denial. He looks almost weary. “I can’t.”

That’s the only answer he offers me before he finally steps toward me. I flinch away. A scowl tugs at his handsome features, but he quickly smooths it away to a more clinical, calm expression.

“I’m going to do some tests now.” It’s a declaration, not a request.

So, we’re back to subtle commands. He might try to pretend he’s a good, compassionate man, but it’s far too late for me to believe that carefully curated lie. He’ll never ask me for anything; he’ll simply tell me what to do. He expects mindless obedience, a pretty pet.

The pounding in my head is becoming too acute for me to argue further. Dane is a doctor, and there’s no one else here to help me. After the crash, it would be stupid to deny medical treatment.

There will be time for defiance later. I won’t try to physically attack him again, but I can go back to my original plan: make him grow bored of me.

I allow him to carry out the cognitive tests, and he seems satisfied with my responses.

“Where’s your brother?” I dare to ask once he’s finished.

His lips twist with distaste, but there’s not so much as a flicker of guilt in his eyes. Either he’s deeply psychopathic, or he didn’t hurt his own kin.

With Dane, it’s difficult to judge the situation. He’s made it abundantly clear that he’s a psychopath. What I’m unsure of is the depth of his condition. At times, he does seem to mean it when he’s tender with me.

But that could be another part of his elaborate ruse, his sick mind games.

“James is back at his lodge in Wensleydale,” Dane replies coolly. “He won’t bother us again.”

My brows lift. Maybe Dane isn’t the only crazy one in the family.

“And he didn’t care that you’re holding me captive?”

The tiniest hint at a frown ghosts around his mouth, but he quickly catches it and returns to his calm demeanor.

“I didn’t give him the details of our arrangement. He knows that you’re mine, and he knows that you were badly hurt. We’re safe to stay here until you fully recover.”

“And then what?” I press. “What happens once I recover?”

He fixes me with a level stare. “That’s up to you.”

I press my lips together. I know he doesn’t mean that I’ll have the option to leave. He thinks he’ll break me in the time it takes me to get better, and then I’ll meekly follow wherever he leads.

“What do you plan to do to me in the meantime?” I challenge.

I won’t give him a reason to assault me again, but that doesn’t mean he won’t expect sex.

“I plan to take care of you,” he grits out. “You have nothing to fear from me. I’ll prove it to you. Let me.”

I huff out an incredulous breath. Is he really commanding me to trust him?

I don’t bother to tell him that’s not how trust works.

“I scared you yesterday,” he says quietly. “I understand that now. You weren’t ready, and I pushed you anyway. I didn’t know how being together like that would upset you.”

“You think I like it,” I fling his sickening words back at him. “I don’t.”

His jaw tightens. “Now’s not the time for this conversation. I don’t want to argue. You need to rest and recover.”

I bristle at the fact that he’s essentially telling me to shut up again, but I swallow more defiant words.

He’s right. I do need to recover. I can’t get out of this nightmare if I’m injured.

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