Chapter 8

8

J en

There is a knock at the door.

“Come in. I’m fully clothed this time.” I chuckle to myself as softly as I can. I like pushing his buttons. I’m not sure why. I shouldn’t like anything about that colossal jerk. Somehow, I don’t think that deep down he’s a bad guy. I think he’s just the type that hates people for no good reason. It should make me want to be nicer to him. Namely, to follow my original plan of killing him with kindness. But it doesn’t. It makes me want to push his buttons even more. To get a rise out of him. Apparently, I’m an idiot. I should stick with my original plan instead of poking the bear. And what a bear he is.

I bite back a smile, which completely disappears when a tray is slid along the rug into my bedroom and the door is closed firmly once again. I stand there and stare at the tray for a few moments and then at the closed door.

He didn’t come in. I don’t like that. I was looking forward to seeing him again. I’m not sure why since I don’t particularly like being treated with disdain and disapproval, but here we are.

I sigh. I’m bored. I haven’t been in this apartment for even twenty-four hours yet, and I’m climbing the walls. Screw him! I don’t need him. Then again, I need to get on his good side so that he’ll let his guard down so that life can be a little easier. Also, I might need to escape. I don’t fully trust that asshole general or his dodgy sidekick. Yep, I need to get onto Steel’s good side for sure.

Pity, I can’t see that happening anytime soon, if at all.

I’ll probably watch some television. I look over at the state-of-the-art flat screen on the wall and make a face. I’ve never been much of a television watcher. Even then, it’s more reality shows than movies or series. I haven’t even turned the thing on.

I look over at the book next to my bed. I like reading for twenty minutes before bed. Otherwise, not so much. Besides, the books Tara loaned to me aren’t really in my favorite genre. They’re murder mysteries, while I prefer contemporary romance novels. The ones about A-hole bosses or sports romances…also about A-holes who end up being really great guys and who end up, despite all odds, redeeming themselves. The forbidden ones are my best. The whodunnit ones are nowhere near as fun. I need to try to get them back to Tara at some point, if she’ll even talk to me.

I hope so.

I should just eat my lunch. That will take up fifteen, maybe twenty minutes of my day. I suppose I could take a nap and then work out again. Just a light workout to keep my blood flowing. It’s that or go stir-crazy. I wish I could go jogging outside in the fresh air.

Problem is, I don’t see Mr. Tall, Dark, and Decidedly Unfriendly ever letting me go for a jog on the grounds. Although, maybe he wants to get out as well. We could go together.

I frown. Nope, I can’t see it happening. I can try to ask him, though. Some fresh air would be amazing for us both.

I pick the tray up off the ground and put it on the desk at the wall, taking a seat.

I look over at the window, which has been boarded shut. I can’t get over the audacity of that guy. Isn’t it good enough that I can’t fly? I’m not going anywhere from the sixth floor. He still had to go and close up the window. Steel spent fifteen minutes nailing in the boards earlier. He didn’t say much of anything. Just grunted a few times when I complained about the lack of sunlight and fresh air. I truly am a prisoner here. It sucks!

I sigh again, opening the lid. I expect to see a chicken salad since that’s what I ordered. Instead, there’s a burger and fries. A ton of fries. They’re covered in salt. There are two sachets of ketchup. I open the top bread roll and see lettuce, a slice of tomato, and a chicken breast.

I could just eat that and send the rest back. I’m hungry after my workout earlier, but I can’t eat this. I lift the lid on the smaller plate, and it’s pie. I take a sniff. Yep, cherry pie with whipped cream. My stomach growls, but I ignore it.

Nope, I take care of my body. No excuses. I know firsthand what can happen to a person if they drop the ball. Although, that isn’t exactly fair of me. There are reasons other than food as to why my mom is morbidly obese. Reasons beyond her control. Still, I grab the tray and turn, walking to the other end of the room.

Balancing the thing in one hand, I open the bedroom door, half expecting it to be barricaded, but it isn’t. Steel is at the dining room table. His mouth is full of food. There is a huge bite in his burger and five fries in his other hand. I’m instantly irritated.

“Something wrong?” he says around his food.

I walk over to him and drop the tray on the table with a clang. Fries spill off my plate. The pie topples over on its side. “This isn’t what I ordered.”

“This isn’t a vacation, Princess.” He stuffs the fries into his mouth. “We are waiting until further instructions. I’m not here to make your life a cakewalk or to serve your every whim. This is what was delivered. This is what we will eat. Take your ass back into your bedroom and eat your food. Someone went to a lot of trouble to prepare that.”

“It must be awesome being a shifter. I mean, you guys have extremely high metabolisms and superhuman healing abilities.”

“And? What of it?” He takes a bite of his burger; a drop of ketchup drips onto the corner of his perfect mouth. Asshole! He even looks good while eating greasy food.

“I’m human,” I tell him. “I don’t have the same superpowers as you. Therefore, I’m not afforded the same leniencies.”

“Leniencies? What are you talking about? Can you get to the point, so that I can finish my food?”

“This kind of food isn’t good for us. It isn’t nutrient-dense. It’s calorie-laden garbage.”

“I’ll let the kitchen staff know that you think their efforts are garbage. I’m sure they’ll appreciate it.”

I picture Tara’s sad face. How she wouldn’t even look at me yesterday. He’s right; I shouldn’t call food garbage. It’s wrong of me.

I sigh. “Please don’t do that. I would hate to hurt their feelings. This is coming out all wrong. I have this thing about eating healthy. Understand that I have my reasons.”

“I understand alright.” He takes another bite of his food. I wait while he chews and swallows; even that is altogether too sexy. I hate him. Why is he being such a dick?

Instead of explaining himself, he dips several fries into ketchup and stuffs them into his mouth as well. He ignores me.

“I feel like there’s more to that statement. I’d like to hear it, if you don’t mind.” I fold my arms. I can’t wait to hear this.

He swallows and licks his lips. Then Steel turns those dark eyes on me. They’re framed by thick lashes.

Makes me dislike him more.

He pops his shoulders in a casual shrug that has me seething. “It’s clear that you care about your figure and that you take excellent care of yourself.” The words themselves are leaning toward a compliment; it’s just the way they are delivered, and the look on his face tells me that they’re anything but. “I’d go so far as to say that you use your good looks to get what you want in life. The thought of jeopardizing that by putting on a few pounds is abhorrent to you. I mean, you’re selling yourself, after all. It might not fly if you’re overweight. So, I ultimately understand why you won’t eat a perfectly good burger.”

“That’s not it at all. Not even close.” My face feels hot I’m so angry.

He gives me a look like I’m full of it.

I blurt the first thing that comes to mind because I know it’ll piss him off. “So, you’re attracted to me and hate that fact. You’d love it if I put on a few pounds. You’d love it even more if I died of a freaking heart attack, wouldn’t you?”

“I have no problem with a woman having a little meat on her bones.” He gives me the once-over, his jaw tightening. “I prefer it, actually. Most men do. If you want my opinion, you’re a little on the lean side. Not my type at all. So, no, I’m not attracted to you. If you died, I’d be done with this shitty assignment, so you might be onto something there. Although, it hadn’t crossed my mind before now. Eat, don’t eat. I don’t care.”

I act like a child when I grab the burger and pour the fries on the tray. Then I remove the top bun, the part with all the sauce. I make this growly noise that tells me I’ve been hanging out with shifters too much. I put what’s left of the food on the plate and stomp back into my room, slamming the door. Again, acting like a child. I’m not proud of myself, but he’s just… He’s… an asshole. I’m pretty sure his levels of sexiness are going to drop very soon. They have to. I’m counting on it. You can’t be such a huge asshole and keep looking like that. It’s not possible. It’s not fair, and it’s wrong in every way.

I wasn’t attracted to my ex at all until I got to know him. It was one of those situations where a person becomes sexy. I’ve met good-looking people who became decidedly ugly once they opened their mouths. I’ve never experienced this before. Not once. I’m in the dark about what to do here. I have no idea. I am attracted to a dick. One who hates me. He happens to be my babysitter. I’m being held captive by this man…this person who has decided he hates me without even knowing me. It’s never happened to me before. I always thought I was a likable person.

Unless he is nice deep, deep, deep down and I’m picking up on that. Then it makes sense that I would find him attractive. If so, he hides it really well. I don’t know what to make of him or of this whole situation. His words play through my head. “I have no problem with a woman with a little meat on her bones…I prefer it, actually. Most men do.” He said that I’m too lean.

I’m not too lean.

I go and stand in front of the mirror. I turn to the side. I still have breasts. I’ve always had breasts. I take after my mom. I look just like she used to look before…before things took a turn. I also have a butt, but I work really hard on my glutes every day of my life.

Otherwise, I am lean. Leaner than when I left home. I’ve continued to eat the way I normally do, but since becoming a Tribute, my exercise levels have doubled. At first, it was in order to survive. In order to make Sky’s Edge. I guess I’m used to it now. After coming to Mistveil, I was hitting the gym every day and running with Rex or Bear or one of the other guards several days a week. I’m leaner. Still toned but definitely leaner. Too lean? Maybe. Healthy? Yes, I am, and I’ll take it. Health is taken for granted. It’s everything.

Screw that asshole. I’d rather be too lean than like my mother. I feel instant regret at the thought. I’m a horrible, terrible person for thinking like that. She isn’t to blame.

I sit hard on the chair, feeling so fucking sad that I don’t know what to do with myself. Then I force myself to eat the damned food. It doesn’t take long for me to finish. Mental and physical wellness are my top priority. They have to be. I need to be there for my family, even if it means staying on this island. Even if it means never seeing them ever again.

I sniff, trying hard not to cry. I fail, a small sob escaping as the tears fall.