Prisoner (Criminals & Captives #1)(35)

When I hit the edge of the towel, I slide my hand up under it, finding the curve of her hip, fitting my hand around it, fingers finding her hip bone.

She sucks in another breath. Like she’s so surprised this is actually happening. As if she’d thought I was somebody different. Somebody better. Did she hope her class broke me of my darkness? People like her want to see the best in people like me, and she’ll probably want to think the best as time goes on, but it’s important that she doesn’t think the best of me or hope for me to be something different. Misery is wanting what you don’t have. Misery is wanting what a rat has, or really, anything different. It’s important to me that she sees what this is and what it’s going to be. Deep down, she already knows exactly how we fit, which was why she was nervous around me in class. Even with my wrists chained up, she knew I’d f*ck her someday.

“Turn over,” I say, pulling at her hip, encouraging her to turn onto her back.

“Don’t,” she says.

“Come on.”

She doesn’t move.

“Do it,” I say.

“Why?”

“You know why,” I whisper. I tighten my fingers over her hip and pull firmly, guiding her. She kicks backward at me with her free leg, but I’m ready—I catch her leg with my other hand and make her turn over, pressing her leg and her hip down, putting her how and where I want her.

She stares up at the ceiling. The towel only half covers her. Her pulse pounds in her neck. Frightened. Her eyes are vacant—she’s gone somewhere. I slap her thigh. “Hey.”

She ignores me, like she’s not there. And she isn’t. With a jolt, I recognize what she’s doing—she’s keeping some little piece of herself away from me. I know all about that.

“Look at me.”

She won’t.

“I know what you’re doing, and it doesn’t work. It never works. In fact, it works against you.”

“What the f*ck do you care?”

My heart’s pounding like crazy. I care because I care. I need her to listen.

I touch her hair. “You just can’t do that, okay? We’re together now, and there are a few things you need to learn, like if you keep something away, it just makes it harder on everyone. On you. On me. That’s not something you want.”

No answer. She looks exhausted, empty. Just how I feel. I keep my hand on the thigh of her kicking leg. I imagine pushing it aside, spreading her apart and pushing into her. And yeah, she’s gone somewhere, but I would f*ck her until I find her again, in that place where she’s gone, or maybe until I find some missing part of me, some part that isn’t empty and hollow and wrong.

And suddenly I’m imagining something else—I don’t know if it’s the exhaustion in her eyes or what, but I realize I could give her the kind of help I never got. It’s crazy, but I’m talking now. “You want to sleep? Is that what you want?”

She rewards me with a pointed look. The anger. She’s back.

“Answer.”

She makes her look go darker. I take it as an answer.

“You need to give me something real. Like what you wanted from us in class. But I’m not talking about a vignette here. I want something, Abby. I want something from you.”

She takes a bit to figure out where I’m going with this. “I’ll never touch you, ever. Not ever.”

“Yes, you will,” I say softly. “You’ll touch me if I want you to.” That’s the real thing, for her to learn this.

“You can’t make me.”

“I won’t have to. You’ll make yourself do it.” She looks at me in hate as I stand up, making myself bigger than her, no longer on her level. She’s back, and I’m the devil, breathing in her fire, consuming little bits of her soul. It feels wild and good.

“Never.”

But she needs to understand that I’m in charge, and that there’s nothing wrong with that, and I need…what? Something to patch up my wrecked soul. I even make it easy for her, moving up to the bedpost, a position that puts me between her and the bedside lamp. I cast a shadow over her. That seems just about right. I prop a hand on the wall, leaning, just casual, like I’m talking to a friend.

“Hands only. And I won’t f*ck you tonight.”

“Do your worst, because I said I wasn’t going to touch you.”

“But you will, because that’s the fastest way we get to sleep. You’re going to take me out, and do me nice—and I mean nice. And then you’re going to thank me.” I can’t believe I’m giving her this option after all that time imagining this opportunity in prison. I’m disgusted with myself, but it’s what I’ve said now.

She’s breathing hard.

“No? So I do my worst? That’s what you want?”

Silence.

“That’s your choice? This is a limited-time offer, I can tell you that much, Abby.” I don’t know what’s going on in her mind but…

She closes her eyes. She looks miserable.

It’s better this way.

I make my voice low, as if she’s a wild animal I have to coax to eat from my hand. Like the rat in the basement. He was real, even if his name wasn’t. “It’s okay to lose. You’ve got to understand, you lost a long time ago.”