Chapter 10

TEN

Laura

I hated him.

I hated that I needed his steady hand to get me back to the cabin, tremors shaking my frozen limbs. I'd failed. Spectacularly.

Instead of securing my freedom, I'd offered him even more of myself to get him to rescue me for a second time.

Cold cut deep into my bones by the time we'd made it down into the bedroom.

Wrapping my arms over my chest, I sat unsteadily on the end of the bed. I shrunk away as he walked past me. What was I going to do? I had to behave until I could get to somewhere I could have an actual chance at escape. But how? How could I let him take whatever he wanted and survive it?

Another shiver stole through me as he rummaged in a closet, pulling out a large hoodie and a pair of black jogging bottoms. He handed them to me with barely a glance and left the room .

The hoodie was old and worn, its soft, thick fabric hugging me when I pulled it over my shoulders. A touch of comfort amongst the god-forbidden boat that had become an oversized prison cell. The pants were snug around my hips, but I was glad to be covered from neck to ankle, considering the promise I'd made to do whatever he wanted me to.

Crushing myself into a compact armchair to the left of the bed, I crossed my arms over one another, wrapping them around my knees.

Those intense eyes settled on me, sending a tremor along my spine. His boots squeaked against the floor as he rounded the bed, heading straight for me. Every muscle in my body seized on his approach.

He thrust a mug into my hands, heat radiating into my icy fingers. Milky brown tea sloshed gently as the boat bobbed, and the familiar sensation of comfort filled me. Tears pricked my eyes as I stared down at the hot tea, avoiding the man sitting across from me on the bed, his knees grazing the edge of my chair.

Silence enveloped the room, only punctuated by my occasional sips of the sweetened tea. My stomach grumbled as I drank, reminding me just how long it had been since I'd last eaten.

He heard it too, his gaze dipping to my middle, his brows creasing.

‘What's your name?' I asked, needing some sort of noise to break the quiet.

Nothing. I sighed, placing my now empty mug on the dresser by the bed and wrapping my arms back around my knees .

‘My name's Laura. I don't know if you know who I am, or how much Massimo told you.'

His fingers twitched against the bed cover, but he remained silent.

‘I don't have a home. I don't have anyone waiting for me. I've got nothing.' The blue water undulated outside the window beside me as I spoke, and I focused on the distant spot where the sea met the sky. ‘You can use me. I agreed to that. But you can't make me be anything other than a human fleshlight for you. I'll hate every minute of it, and I will get away from you the first chance I get.'

Swallowing hard, I continued to watch that spot far from me and my predicament.

Then his fingers gripped my hand.

The urge to snatch them away flared in me, but instead, I narrowed my eyes at him and held firm. I wouldn't break. That's probably what he wanted, to see me begging for him to leave me alone. I wouldn't give him the satisfaction. I'd be a sack of potatoes; unresponsive and dull. He'd get bored and leave me be. Hell, maybe he'd get so bored he'd drop me at the next port.

A movement against my palm directed my eyes toward it. His fingers were scarred on the left hand which held mine in place. Red and white webbing decorated the digits and spread up his wrist. With his unscarred right pointer finger, he drew a shape into my palm.

Confusion filled me at the ticklish touch. What was he doing?

A line, and a semi-circle. A P?

He was spelling something.

PH …

The caress of his fingers sent a warmth through me that made me want to retch. The tingle of a man's touch had been something I'd dreamt about in the lead up to my wedding. My non-wedding. Yet, here were the tingles, with a psycho.

OE

I chewed on my bottom lip as he continued.

NIX

After he drew the last letter, his gaze flicked up to my face and lingered on my bottom lip, which was caught between my teeth. He closed his eyes for a moment as he took a shaky breath.

‘Phoenix?' I asked, putting the letters together.

He nodded.

It made sense of the worn embroidered bird on his masks.

My stomach growled viciously, sending roiling discomfort through me.

He stood, hesitating for a moment before stroking a finger across my bottom lip, right where my teeth had been. Blood still stained his arm from where I'd cut him, and it took every piece of willpower I had not to lash out at his touch.

He left me there with my empty mug, and the whisper of his touch tainting my lips.