Page 78 of Lost to the Woods

I make a frustrated noise, and all I see is red. I’ve never in my whole life felt this enraged… and powerless at the very same time.

“Now drink your fucking water,” he commands, low and final. No room for argument.

So I obey. I reach between the bars and pick up the cup. Because I don’t know what he’ll do if I don’t.

The water is cool. Clean and fresh. Almost soothing against my parched throat.

And he just watches me. Quiet. Patient. Like he already knows he’s won.

I want to wipe that smirk off his face that I know is still there. At least I can do that.

“You know, I’m gonna need my birth control pills.”

It takes a second for him to process before he throws his head back and hollers in laughter.

God, I despise him.

A whole eternity later, the pressure in my bladder is a slow, insistent torture. I’ve been helplessly pacing the cage for what feels like hours, my bare feet padding against the rough wooden floor.

The need is bordering on unbearable, a hot, throbbing ache that makes my stomach clench. I glance at the bucket in the corner that’s keeping me company.

No. Thanks, I’d rather burst.

The cabin is silent except for the distant creak of wind through the trees outside and the occasional rustle of Ghost’s clothes as he shifts in that rickety chair of his, watching me like I’m some kind of fucked-up reality show.

Look!TheParanormal Bunny. She needs to pee. Isn’t that adorable?

“You gonna sit there all day?” I snap, losing my mind.

“Mhm.”

Oh, fantastic.

I bite my lip hard enough to taste copper, then throw myself on the mattress and stare at the ceiling.

It takes only a moment to realize it was a bad idea. It’s much worse this way. I squeeze my thighs together so hard it almost hurts. Almost. The truth is, the pressure is toeing the linebetween agony and something… else. Something shameful that makes my breath hitch every time I slightly shift.

Oh God. Oh God, I can’t.

With all the dignity I have left, I stand back up and return to pacing.

His fingers tap lazily against the armrest in the rhythm of my footsteps. Like my suffering is just background noise.

I suddenly stop and grip the bars, pressing my forehead against cold metal. “Ghost,” I whine, hating how pathetic my voice sounds. “Come on. Please. You can’t just—”

“Can’t what?” His voice is lazy. Amused.

I grit my teeth.Asshole.

“I really need to go,” I try again, crossing my legs and shifting my weight from one foot to the other. It’s impossible. “Like,now.”

He tilts his head slightly as if he’s talking to a misbehaving pet. “Bucket’s right there, Princess.”

I glare at him. “I’m not using that thing in front of you.”

A slow, infuriating shrug. “Then hold it.”

Fuck you.

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