Page 50 of Trapped

“You fucking bitch!”Hawkins retreated in disgust, but his withdrawal came too late.Looming over me had meant he’d become the vomit’s primary target, and while a tiny quantity appeared to have landed on my socks, he’d otherwise taken the entire, punishing brunt.“You just puked all over me!”

I couldn’t decide if it was outrage, revulsion, or shock that painted his ugly face.Unfortunately, I hadn’t been able to aim high enough for it to have been my sick.

“I told you I was ill.”I sank back against the chair, pulling in deep breaths and praying he’d just fuck off.Knowing my stomach, the vomit was far from over, and I needed to catch my breath while I could.“You didn’t listen.”

“Look at the state of me!”His eyes widened with horror as he stared down the length of his body.“I’m c-covered!”

“Sorry.”I wasn’t even vaguely sorry.“I feel awful.”

That much was true at least; just not in the way it sounded.

“I need to get myself cleaned up.”His gaze darted around the place as if he didn’t know where the bathroom was.“I can’t stay like this.It’s making me feel ill.”

“Fine.”It wasn’t fine, but at least him going to get cleaned up offered me something of a reprieve.“Go and get cleaned up.”

“I can’t believe you did this.”

Oh, get the fuck over it.“I still feel ill…”

I scarcely managed the assertion before the next round of nausea loomed.That time, I tilted as far as the ropes allowed me, projecting most of the bile over the side of the chair.

“Oh my God.”Hawkins backed away as though a little vomit was the nastiest thing he’d ever witnessed.Somehow, I found that impossible to believe.“Wait, I’ll get you a wastepaper bin.You’re going to ruin my fucking carpet.”

Glancing down at the browny-mustard pile, I wasn’t sure my puke would even be a noticeable stain, but I didn’t complain as he rushed forward to collect the bin and thrust it onto my lap.

“Please,” I gasped, genuinely drained and exhausted.“Can you at least untie one hand so I can hold the bin?”I looked his way imploringly.

“What?”He backed away, still covered in my initial effort.“No way!”

“I’m trying to protect your property!”I reasoned with the asshole.“If I’m sick again, I might make a mess somewhere else.Let me deal with this while you get yourself sorted out.”

He gazed down the front of his clothes as if he’d forgotten the projectile vomit he’d been covered in.Chunks of whatever I’d eaten since the hike merged with bile to produce a unique work of art.

“I’ll still be tied with one hand,” I continued, sensing he might be softening to the idea.“But at least it’ll save your furniture and carpet.”

“Fuck!”Gritting his teeth, he moved toward me cautiously.“Fine, but only your left hand, and if you dare try to mess me about, I’ll make sure nobody ever hears from you again.”

Gee, thanks.

It was the surest threat he’d made against my life, but as he tugged at my binds to release my hand, I bit down on my disgust.Like the bitter taste in my mouth, it would have to wait to be remedied.

“There.”Yanking at my liberated wrist, he thrust my limb in the direction of the bin.“Puke in there.”

“Thanks,” I murmured, staring into the empty black bin.

“And don’t fucking go anywhere!”Once again, his attention flitted around nervously.“I’ll get one of my guys to babysit you.”

“No need.I’m not going anywhere.”

My voice echoed into the container, but by the time I looked up, Hawkins was already at the door, thrusting it open and backing into the hall.I doubted he’d heard my reply, which was just as well.

Nothing I’d ever said had been further from the truth.

Chapter Twenty

Comeback

Eli

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