Page 79 of Blue Arrow Island
I draw my fist back, about to punch him, when he steps back, getting in one last head-to-toe sweep of my nakedness.
Fury and fear battle for control inside me. I’m fucking pissed at him, but I know I’m at his mercy. What can I do? If I complain, he’ll say he thought he heard me screaming, which is bullshit.
I’m not starving and I’m not alone at the bottom of a hole in the ground, but am I safe here? Truly safe? Hell no. There’s a strange man following me everywhere and sleeping in my room every night, because Marcus thinks I’m the one he needs to worry about.
A wave of contempt for him swells inside me. Marcus did this. He could have assigned a female soldier to guard me, but instead, I got a man who makes me feel violated and disgusting.
I don’t even know if I’m angrier at Vance or Marcus. After turning the handle for the shower to stop the water, I grab the towel I left hanging on a hook and wrap it around myself.
Vance’s leering expression is still fresh in my mind. I close my eyes, willing myself to stop shaking. If he thinks I’m afraid of him, I’ll lose what little control I have.
Quickly, I dry myself and dress in the clean clothes I left just outside the shower stall, reaching out to grab them so I can stay hidden inside.
As soon as I walk out of the bathroom area doorway, Vance pushes off the wall, a smile still playing on his lips.
I narrow my eyes at him, my tone loaded with malice. “If you ever do anything like that again, I will kill you.”
He laughs lightly. “Oh, will you? With what, your hands?”
“If I have no other weapon, then yes.”
His expression shifts, turning serious. “It was an accident. I was coming to help you.”
“You’re disgusting. I don’t need your help.”
He turns away and starts walking. “Sure you don’t, little girl. You think you know what this place is, but you ain’t seen shit.”
My blood boils with anger over being calledlittle girl. Everything in me wants to rush him and make him pay. I can’t risk the consequences, though. My survival is on the line.
It’s all I can do to stay silent. Once he uses his fingerprint to get us back in my room, I go to my cot and wrap myself in my blanket. It’s a worthless shield, but at least I’m completely covered.
He’s lying on his back on a cot directly across from mine. I lie on my side, my eyes never leaving him.
First thing tomorrow, I’m changing the terms of my deal with Marcus. I want Vance out of my room and as far away from me as possible, more than I want anything else. And I want it, win or lose.
I need to sleep and don’t want to at the same time. Taking on two of Marcus’s security team members is going to be hard even if I am fully rested. But I’m afraid to even close my eyes while trapped in a room alone with Vance.
If only I had a weapon. Like the knife I found in the cave. Instead, Marcus has it, and he has access to any other weapons he wants, too. Makes me wish I was fighting him tomorrow. He’d be hard to beat, but it would feel damn good to punch him.
Pinching my arm beneath the covers, I fight to stay awake. After my long day working in the sun, I’m sapped. I don’t trust Vance, but my eyelids are getting heavier by the second.
I’ll just rest my eyes for a little bit while staying awake and alert.
My blanket is being pulled out from beneath me. I wake up with a gasp, trapped in the cocoon I created for myself.
Vance. I can’t see him, but I know it’s him tugging at my blanket. It only takes him a few seconds to strip it away and drop it to the floor.
My cot dips as he puts a knee on it. I react immediately, knowing I’m in for a harder fight if he gets all his weight on top of me. Moving into a sitting position, I brace a hand on the wall and kick him in the chest, using both feet.
With an “oof” sound, he staggers back a couple feet, muttering, “Bitch.”
He’s back on me before I can get away from my cot. One of his hands gropes my breast and I scream like a feral animal as I drive the butt of my hand into his nose.
“Hold still.” His voice is low. “Or I’ll say you tried to escape.”
“Fuck you.”
His hand wraps around my throat, the sound of fabric ripping making my stomach roll. It’s the cotton pants I wore to sleep in.
