She was a prisoner. Someone or something held her against her will. She closed her eyes and shook her head. No not something. It had to be someone. But as she saw flashes of long razor-sharp teeth, and black shaggy hair in her mind, she wasn’t so certain.
The door to the room opened. Olivia gasped as a large powerfully built man marched in. He carried a tray of steaming food and a cup. He grabbed the wooden chair slid it over to the mattress and set the tray down on it. He put his hands on his h*ps and loomed over her, an unhappy look on his tanned chiseled face.
“What did you see?” his voice was low and rough and made Olivia shiver.
“Where am I? Why am I a prisoner?”
His expression remained stoic. “What did you see?”
“I don’t understand.” Tears ran down her cheeks.
She felt weak and overpowered, emotions she didn’t feel often. Having grown up with three older brothers, she had made certain that she never allowed herself to feel like that, especially not to show it. But under the powerful gaze of the man’s light blue eyes, and the waves of energy she felt surge over her, she could not help but feel anything but.
He frowned, then picked up the tray. He sat down on the chair, balancing the tray on his lap.
“Are you hungry?”
Olivia nodded, as her stomach involuntarily growled. The heavenly smells of homey stew wafted to her nose.
“I will unlock your arm so you can eat.” He leaned forward, grabbing her wrist. “Don’t even think about hitting me or anything stupid like that. I don’t want to hurt you…” he stopped.
She narrowed her eyes at him. “Yet? That’s what you were going to say, wasn’t it? I don’t want to hurt you yet.”
He unlocked her wrist and sat back in the chair, staring at her. Olivia sat up and rubbed at her wrist. It ached. Actually, her whole body still ached. She had forgotten about the accident. She feared the worse.
“Where’s Roger? Where’s the woman?”
Without answering, he set the tray down on her lap and handed her a plastic spoon. She took it and glared up at him. Fear and weakness slowly leaked out of her as anger for her situation replaced them.
“You’re going to kill me, aren’t you?”
“Shut up and eat.” He turned and strode to the open door.
“I won’t go quietly, you know. I’ll rip out your eyes before the end.”
He went through the door and turned to close it behind him. She could plainly see the grin on his face.
Olivia stared down at the food and water. She didn’t want to eat. She wanted to toss the tray across the room in protest, but knew that would be a foolish thing to do. She needed the energy the food would provide if she wanted to fight. And fight she would.
He had picked the wrong woman, if he thought she would be a meek plaything for him to taunt and torture. Her death may come at the end, but she would make him work for it.
Digging her spoon into the stew, she thought about why she was here, and whom the giant man was that held her prisoner. She had never seen him before. She would definitely remember a man his size, and unfortunately, with his looks. He had longish black hair that flirted over the collar of his T-shirt. Eyes the color of robin’s eggs and a face chiseled from granite.
Under his tight shirt and jeans, she could plainly see a body that matched his face, hard and unyielding. He was a formidable and stunning presence. Why were the good-looking men in her life all psychopaths?
She finished the stew and her water, just as the door opened again. He strode to the bed, picked up the tray, and set it on the floor. He then, sat in the wooden chair.
“I’m going to ask you some questions, and you’re going to answer them. If you answer them, and I think they are the truth, then I will leave the chain off your wrist. If I think you’re lying, I will chain you up again, and that will be the end of any chance you have of salvaging your life.” He bent forward resting his elbows on his thighs, his eyes flashing in the low light. “Do you understand, Olivia?”
Olivia swallowed and took a deep breath, but did not look away from his intense stare. His voice had power to it. She could feel it vibrate across her skin.
Shivers erupted over her body. The way he said her name gave a whole new meaning to the word threatening.
“Yes, I understand,” she managed through chattering teeth. “How did you know my name?”
He reached behind him and came away with her wallet. He opened it up and looked down at her driver’s license. “Olivia Annabelle Jordan, born August 28, 1965, #203, 2525 17th Ave. SW.” He glanced up at her. “Blood type O, which is good to know if something should happen to you. You have a Visa, Mastercard, Blockbuster movie card, and a Victoria Secret’s credit card.” He glanced down briefly at her chest. “Which is also nice to know.”
Olivia crossed her arms over her chest. His one small glance made her feel very exposed and vulnerable. Her ni**les hardened despite her mental protests.
He sneered. “Don’t worry I’m not interested in your underwear. I just want some answers to some simple questions.”
“Fine,” she said, but could not stop the quivers in her thighs that his gaze coaxed from her.
“What did the injured woman say to you?”
“What? Is that what this is about? That woman?”
“Did she tell you anything?”
“No. She could hardly speak. She was shot three times.” Olivia narrowed her eyes. “You shot her, didn’t you?”
“No, I didn’t. But I’m asking the questions here. If you ask me one more, I will chain you up again.”
She pursed her lips to stop the slew of retorts she had formulated in her mind. He didn’t want questions, and he probably didn’t want to hear the menage of insults she had waiting.
“Did you see anything?”
“Like what?” Olivia put her hand up in defense before he could lean forward and grab her arm. “That is a logical question. I mean, I saw lots of things…I saw a woman lying bleeding in the street, I saw three bullet wounds in her chest, I saw…” she stopped and stared at him.
He perked up. “Yeah, go on.”
“I saw a weird grayish liquid in her wounds.”
“Did you tell your partner? Did you radio it in?”
Olivia thought for a moment. Did she tell Roger what she saw? She couldn’t remember.
“No, I told him that we might have a contaminant and to call ahead to warn them about a possible quarantine.”
“Did he radio it in?”
She shook her head. “I don’t think so. We hit something and went over the embankment before he could.” She raised her hand to her head and fingered the stitched up wound.
“Are you sure?”
“Yes, I’m sure.”
He sat back in the chair and nodded. “That’s good.
Leaves me with only one thing to take care of.”
Olivia’s eyes went wide. “You mean me, don’t you?”
He leaned forward to grab her arm. She struck out at his arm, pushing it away then jumped up to her feet on the mattress. She ran down the bed to where her leg chain was imbedded in the wall. She’d have better maneuverability here.
He rubbed at his arm and stood up. “Nice move.
But what’s the point, you can’t get away.”
“I don’t have to get away. All I have to do is kick your ass. It would be worth anything you do to me afterwards.”
He smiled. Olivia almost lost her footing. Damn!
How could a psychopath like him, have such a sexy and disarming smile.
“Girl, I don’t have time for this bullshit.” He stepped up onto the mattress and moved toward her.
Olivia took up a karate stance. She’d been taking lessons for three years. She never thought she’d have the focus to ever use it outside the dojo. She kicked out with her leg as he stepped closer.
She connected solidly with his knee, but he didn’t flinch, or even blink. It was like kicking a tree stump.
He stood in front of her and smiled again. She brought her arm back and punched him solidly in the face. His lip split and blood trickled down his chin.
He poked out his tongue and licked it away.
“There, now that you’ve kicked my ass, be a good girl and behave.” He grabbed her arm and pulled her across the bed. “I really don’t want to hurt you.”
Olivia struggled against his strong hold. She brought her other hand up to strike him again, but stilled when he glared down at her.
“Don’t.”
“But you’re going to kill me, what do I care?”
“I never said I was going to kill you. You just assumed I would.”
“Well, you’re a homicidal psychopath. What do you suppose I think?”
“Lady, you don’t know the half of it.”
When they reached the tether on her leg chain, he nipped her at the waist and picked her up dropping her on the bed. He quickly knelt down beside her and grabbed the wrist chain. He opened up the cuff and brought it around her wrist.
“Please don’t. I’ll behave. I will. I promise.”
He glanced down at her face. Tears welled in her eyes.
“I’ll do anything you want. Anything.” She brought her other hand over to his leg. She placed it on his thigh and rubbed it back and forth.
His leg felt like steel under her hand. She choked back the sobs as she moved her hand upwards. She felt sick to her stomach, but forced herself to continue.
Maybe she could convince him to let her go. Maybe deep down in his brilliant blue eyes was a man with a soul, with a conscience.
She moved her hand over the crotch of his jeans.
She could feel him underneath. Felt his c*ck twitch as she caressed him through the denim.
He brought his hand on top of hers and stilled it.
He grabbed it and tossed it away. “Girl, don’t debase yourself. The feisty stuff I believe. This, I don’t.”
He snapped the cuff closed around her wrist and jumped back before she could strike out at him again.