Page 38 of Blood Ties
Still holding my neck, Knox lowers himself to a crouch. I force myself to maintain eye contact even as I shake, hoping my gaze conveys all of my hatred.
When he reaches into his pocket, I brace myself. I’ve made a mistake in antagonizing him. I fully expect him to pull out a knife — but instead, when his fingers unfurl, he reveals a key.
My eyes widen.
“Our little secret,” Knox whispers. He slides the key into my handcuff. When it turns, I hear a click, and the weight drops off of my wrist for the first time in... I don’t know how long it’s been. A week, at least.
Knox releases me and stands again. Still on my knees on the concrete, I reach over to rub my scraped raw — but now free — wrist. My eyes dart to the stairs, and I try to remember if I heard him shut and lock the door behind him. I don’t think so.
My eyes flick back to him, and I see him watching me.
“Not gonna get up?” he asks.
I swallow hard. This is a test. It has to be. “Am I allowed to?” I ask, my voice barely a whisper. Thinking back to our first night together, I add, “Sir?”
He looks surprised for a moment. And then he laughs. “What a good girl,” he says, mocking. He grabs me by the hair and yanks me to my feet, and I yelp as he drags me close to him. “I liked you better when you had some fight in you,” he whispers in my ear, and kisses me. I try to pull away, but it’s no use. I never had much of a chance of competing with someone Knox’s size, and after days of wasting away in the dark with hardly anything to eat, I’m weaker than ever.
He tosses me over his shoulder like I weigh nothing at all. I thrash against him, beating my fists against his back, as he carries me up the stairs. As much as I’ve longed to escape from this basement, right now I feel nothing but panic, and a flicker of déjà vu as he hauls me up to the second floor. I scream — but Knox only laughs, and nobody comes running. The house is empty as he carries me up the stairs.
Without even Kai around to witness, what will Knox do? Is he going to kill me?
I fight as hard as I can the entire way, my vision obscured by my own lank, greasy hair. When Knox finally comes to a stop, I’m panting for air. He flips me and sets me on my feet — and I’m shocked to look around and realize I’m in the bathroom. It’s cluttered and not exactly clean, with grime in the grout between tiles and mineral build-up around the sink faucet, but it’s still leagues better than my nasty set-up in the basement.
“Jesus fuckin’ Christ,” Knox mutters. He’s breathing a little harder, too, as he locks the door behind us. “All that drama over a shower?”
I’m frozen in place, nails digging into my palms. Did he really release me just to give me a shower? There has to be some kind of trick. Knox would never give me a gift without strings attached.
I flinch when he reaches my way, but he only leans past me to turn the shower knob. The water begins in spurts, and soon it’s a steady stream. Warm steam drifts off of it. I want so badly to get in there, but I can’t bring myself to take my eyes off of Knox. There has to be some cruelty hidden in this kindness.
He growls under his breath. “C’mon. I don’t know how much time we have.” He grabs the hem of my shirt and yanks it up. I let him pull it over my head, and then step back, moving to discard the rest of my clothes myself. There’s no point in trying to be modest. It’s clear he doesn’t intend to leave me in here alone, and it’s not like it’s anything he hasn’t seen before. I keep my eyes fixed on my dirty feet as I discard my shorts and panties, leaving me entirely bare before him. Knox only leans back against the locked door, watching me, so I turn and climb into the shower.
The sensation of warm water makes me want to cry. I shut my eyes and tilt my head back, letting it cascade over my face, my hair, my body. For a few seconds I just stand there, enjoying the sensation. Then I remember that I don’t know how much time Knox will give me. I open my eyes and reach hastily for the toiletries. I wash my hair, groaning in pleasure as I massage it into my scalp. There’s even conditioner, and face wash. I scrub every piece of my body until my skin is pink and sensitive. There’s no razer in here, so nothing to do about the hair growing out beneath my arms and between my legs, but I still feel a million miles better. Even when the water starts to run cold, I stay under the stream, shivering and clean.
Then Knox reaches in to shut off the shower, and reality sinks in again. I blink away droplets of water and turn to look at him. Goosebumps ripple over my skin as I see the way he’s staring at me, making me freshly aware of how naked and vulnerable I am.
“Get out,” he says. Quiet and dangerous.
I swallow and obey. The tile is cold against my bare feet and my nipples are pebbling in the cooling air. Water drips from the ends of my hair, running down over my hips and pooling at my feet. I resist the urge to cover myself, and instead stare Knox down, willing myself not to be afraid.
His lips quirk. “I’m going to give you a choice,” he says. “You can have your clothes back... or you can have a twenty second head start.”
I blink. I don’t quite understand, but there’s a chill growing inside of me. “A head start to do what?”
He tilts his head, eyes narrowing. “Run.”
I stare at him for a moment. If I ask for my clothes back, does that mean he’ll just take me back to the basement? If I try to run, will he kill me if he catches me? How much am I willing to risk for a chance to escape?
Maybe my hesitation makes the decision for me, or maybe Knox sees my answer in my eyes.
“Twenty,” he says.
I lunge for the locked door. My wet fingers slip against the lock.
He laughs. “Nineteen... eighteen...”
I fling the door open and run. Knox doesn’t move, but the sound of his voice follows me as I sprint down the hallway, soaked and naked, bare feet leaving wet footprints behind me.
“Seventeen, sixteen...”
