Page 109 of He Who Sleeps

“Found it,” Carter said and Emerson knew it was the address.

“Well then, let’s figure this shit out, and go get our girl, yeah?” Jack said. “Em? Go get changed, yeah?”

Nodding as he felt the plane start its full descent, he walked into the back cabin. Good thing they brought their masks with them, because he had a feeling they would need them.

Chapter 40

The clock on the wallannounced another hour down, and with each hour she was there, alone, she was seething, and of course plotting. Just thirty-two hours in this house, stuck to the radiator, and the asshole had left her a jar, a bottle of water and another sandwich of which she wasn’t eating. She had drank the water and, because she didn’t fucking care, used the jar for the bursting bladder she had. If nothing else, she could use it as a weapon if needed.

But now, she was at the point where she was hoping her guys were on their way. She wasn’t stupid, they were in Europe, and if they knew, and something inside her felt they did, it was going to be a while ‘til they found her. She was going to have to be savvy, and smart, because while she was hoping on her guys, she was possibly going to have to figure out how to save herself.

So...thirty-two hours. If it worked out as the past thirty-two hours, Officer Douritz would be back soon. And she was going to have to deal with shit. He had been more pissed off the last time he showed up, which was about four hours ago, and oddly she still didn’t know his first fucking name.

Hearing the sound of the lock, she frowned. Asshole was early.

He came in with a broad smile on his lips, but it quickly fell when he saw the untouched sandwich still lying there and storm clouds gathered in his eyes. "You didn't eat." He sighed, shaking his head. "Do you want an IV and a feeding tube? Because that's where you're heading with this."

“No. If you want me to eat, bring me something that is packaged,” she offered. “Sorry, Officer Douritz, but I’m not going to trust what you give me since you kidnapped me. I mean honestly, where is the lie?”

"I wouldn't hurt you." He was getting angry again. "I only drugged you to make sure you wouldn't hurt yourself on the way here. Now that you're safe, you need to eat!"

“I will. If you bring me packaged food,” she countered. “And yes, I’m actually hungry, but Officer, you have to kinda see. If you want me smart, I’m being smart.” The reason was sound. “So don’t get mad at me for telling the truth and keeping myself safe.”

"On this, you're just being petty," he snapped. "I brought you here to save you and you're just talking yourself in circles. Eat the fucking sandwich or I'll make you eat it."

“So this is how you treat someone you love?” She shook her head. “Or is it that you think If I eat that sandwich I’ll accept that love? I’m not stupid, Officer. You want me to be good, I want packaged food. Threatening me isn’t going to endear me to you, either.” She went on. “You clearly have all the power here, stalking me and bringing me here. Allow me this then? Something packaged. I don’t give a shit if it’s a fucking protein bar, you want me to trust you?”

"I don't fucking care if you trust me," he replied bluntly. "I just want you to obey me. And if you won't do that of your own free will, then I will beat obedience into you. You will serve me as a wife should serve her husband."

“In what year?” she asked. “Is this 1950? Or Victorian England?” she asked. “I need to know what I’m supposed to be doing. And dude...really, why me? I mean you’re decently attractive,” not a lie, “why me?”

"We have a connection," he replied, rolling his eyes as though she were stupid. "And there's no point giving you the rules right now since you can't even follow the simplest of basic fucking instructions. Really, Petra."

He shook his head, disappointment in every line of his face. "I thought you were smarter than this." He stalked away, heading toward his bedroom where, if the previous night was anything to go by, he'd change into street clothes and then go and crack a beer and make himself some food.

Asshole wasn’t even on this planet, was he? She looked to the bologna sandwich and sneered, she didn’t tell him she had pulled the meat out of it, and had it wrapped around her hand, getting her hand greasy, to help her slip that cuff off when she needed it. He also didn’t have to know about the straight pin she found under the radiator, which she was planning to stab into his eye when given the chance.

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