Maddox plucked out an ice cube.
“Are you thirsty?”
I glared at him.
“Mmm. The short, silent type,” he remarked, and held the ice just above my breast. A droplet of freezing water fell against my tit, and trickled down the side. I shuddered. “You like that, too, don’t you?”
I swallowed over a sandy lump in my throat. “Fuck you,” I croaked.
He laughed, and took a long drink of water, then licked his lips.
“You're a funny girl. Can you habla anything but 'fuck you?'”
“Kiss my ass. How about that?”
He nodded enthusiastically. “That can be arranged,” he said as he placed the water on the nightstand.
He scooted closer to me, put his arm on my other side, and looked down at me as if he had never been so amused in his entire life. His finger, the one that had been in the water, began tracing my areola. My nipple grew harder, it was completely involuntary, and made him smile wider.
“Remember how I said I never forget a pair of tits?” His fingertip drew casual lines from one breast to the other. He sighed dreamily. “Honey, I would never forget yours. They're amazing. Really, you should be proud.”
He got up from the bed, and started taking off his tie. If my shoulders could sag, they would.
Here we go, I thought. Typical fucking guy. Tie the girl up, rape the girl, rinse, lather, repeat. How god damn original.
“Can't think of anything else to do, dick head?” I said.
It hurt to talk, and I longed for just a sip of that water. I made sure not to look over at the cool, sweet relief sitting on the nightstand. One – I didn’t want him to think I thirsted for it. Two – I didn’t want to tease myself with something I knew I wasn’t going to get.
“You didn't seem to mind earlier,” he said, pausing at his middle button.
“I was passed out, fucktard. Don't flatter yourself.”
“Your lips say one thing, señorita. Your body said another.”
He tossed the tie to the floor, paused for a moment, then went back to retrieve it. He picked it up, looked at it, wrapped one end around his hand, then glanced over to me. He raised his eyebrows up and down.
“You ever play the strangle game? Some chicks dig that. I never understood it, really, but, how 'bout you?” He wound his other hand into the free end, and snapped it in front of him.
I turned my head to the side. Didn't close my eyes. Just looked at the other nightstand, where there wasn't any water, just a copy of To Kill A Mockingbird.
I was so over this. It was a stupid idea to begin with, but I really thought I could pull it off. Just blow his head apart, then sit down in his premiere office suite and wait for the police. There was also the option of suicide by cop, that was a thing, yet if I were to go – and God, I wished I had – I wanted it to be by my own hand. That was the one thing that hadn't changed in the last couple of years. My sense of pride. In fact, it seemed to have grown stronger. Or stupider, given my current situation.
“Señorita?” Maddox asked, taking a few more steps toward the bed, still holding the tie taught. Like a tightrope. A mockingbird could walk across it, no problem. He sat on the side of the bed, waiting for me to say something. “So, by your lack of speaking, am I to gather you're not into asphyxiation fun?”
“You don't read these,” I said, and swallowed over the increasing scratch in my larynx.
“What?”
“The books. This one, all the ones in your office. You've never read a single word of any of them, have you?”
“I think you're a little delirious, jumping bean.”
I chuckled. Which hurt like hell, to be honest. “I wonder why.”
Maddox unwound the tie from his hands, and placed it neatly on the nightstand near the water.
“Tell you what,” he said, and picked up the glass. The ice cubes clinked against the side. I would not turn my head, though. I wasn't going to look like a dog begging for a Milkbone. Seriously, fuck that. “You're thirsty, I have water. We can negotiate.”
“You can stick it up your–” I was going to say ass, but my throat closed up. It was on fire, now. I couldn't swallow anymore.
Maddox looked at the class, then at me. “First of all, it wouldn't fit. Second of all, I want you to have it. But it comes at a price, of course.”
Of course, I thought. Everything came at a price with Maddox Petersen. The man really should have been zipped up in a body bag by now. The fact the he wasn’t was just proof of how unfair the world is.
“Small price, though, considering…” He stopped and took a sip. I could hear him swallowing. “All you have to do is tell me who you are.” Another swig, long and slow. “For starters.”
If I said Harper, the lie would not only have been obvious, but lame. If I told him my real name, then the one thing I had at my very limited disposal would be gone.
If I said nothing, I'd die of thirst. Eventually. And Maddox wasn't dead yet. He wouldn't be dead if I was dead, and that was the most unacceptable outcome possible.
Maddox was a heartless, power hungry control freak. He played with people, and their lives, as if they were nothing more than tokens on a board game. If he thought he'd broken me…
...he'd think he'd won.
There was so much he didn't know. Not me, not my sister, not the family he'd destroyed.
I turned my head toward him, slowly. I may have one ace up my sleeve. Sleeves being a relative term at this juncture.
“Sofia,” I said, looking him dead in the eye.
Now he just raised one brow. “Really?”
I kept staring.
