Six(44)

He reached down and opened up the cuff, and I held my leg out for him to click the cuff around my ankle.

Hostage again. Freedoms gone.

He took hold of my chin again. “So you understand, you make one tiny move out of line again and he’s dead. I will hunt him down and I will shove my knife into his gut, letting his entrails spill out in front of him as I dig it upward right into his heart.”

Another tear slipped down as I swallowed and nodded. Digby wouldn’t die because of me. Nobody would.

His gaze slipped from mine, watching the tear trail down my cheek before leaning forward and licking it up. A small gasp jumped from me and as he pulled back, his hand moving along my jaw, his thumb inadvertently swiping another one away.

My brow furrowed as his eyes lost their intense edge. He pressed his lips to mine, and it was unlike anything he’d done before. Soft, quick, then he stepped back. His muscles tensed again as he faced away from me, moving on to some task.

I stared after him, confused, watching the muscles in his back and shoulders contract as he pulled items out of his duffle bag.

My tongue peeked out, wetting my lips, tasting his. I sat down on the bed.

Somehow, things were different. But I didn’t know if that was different good or different bad.

All I knew was I was back to being trapped. Chained down.

Back to the beginning, with one very significant change—I knew the game.

All I had to do was play by his rules, and I’d stay on the board a little longer.

I was going to live to the fullest and when he took me down, I wanted it to be in a blaze of glory, not a pig to slaughter.





The next morning, I woke to hot breath on my neck. Six’s arm was dead weight, and it was hard to get out of his death grip.

After some fancy maneuvering, I stood and I looked down at him. There was no indication that he was awake, which was weird. He was always awake before me, and anytime I moved usually stirred him.

The cuff around my ankle pulled as I made my way to the bathroom. My reflection was a mess, and I stared in shock at my horror-movie-like appearance.

The handprint bruise was much more evident, but the freakiest part was my eyes. When I’d glanced at the vanity mirror when we were driving I thought my eyes were red from crying the day before, but that wasn’t the case. Blood red stained the white of my eyes, the left worse than the right.

“Shit!”

There was a rumble and crash, followed by the cocking of a gun and stomping of feet before Six appeared behind me. His eyes were wide, breath hard as his head swung from side to side.

“Wow. That was some kind of spaztastic.”

“What?” He shook his head and ran a hand across his face and scrunched his brow. “How?”

“Look what you f*cking did,” I said, ignoring his confusion and turned around. With my finger I pointed to my eyes. “You f*cking broke my blood vessels. I look like I should be in some slasher flick.”

He blinked at me. “It’ll go away in a week or two.”

Of course he knew that.

I slapped his chest. “That’s not the point! I look like a freak.”

The furrow in his brow deepened. “Did you really get up without me noticing?”

Oh, I wasn’t the only one who noticed that.

I nodded and he pushed past me, opening his toiletries case and pulling out his toothbrush. Without a word, he frantically brushed his teeth, and once done, pushed past me as he hurried to throw on some clothes.

He glanced down at my ankle, then threw all of the bags into the farthest corner. There wasn’t a word said as he stepped out of the room, the door slamming behind him. A minute later the car fired up, and the tires crunched on the gravel.

I was left standing, staring at the door. “What the f*ck?”

Shaking my head, I turned back into the bathroom. After running a brush through my hair, I tossed it up in a loose bun, then washed my face and brushed my teeth. Deodorant, lotion, body spray, and I was set.

Left waiting.

Again.

I should have reveled in my first free period without him in over two weeks, but instead I was stuck contemplating his strange behavior.

Changing my clothes would have been nice, but he threw my suitcase in the corner with the others and one leg was unavailable at the moment.

My book was also in there.

Some lawyer forbidden romance with lots of sex.

I was alone, hungry, and with no idea when Six would be back.

Yes, things had been weird since I woke up in a car the day before, but why? I understood his anger and reprimanding me, even locking me up again, but the other stuff left me scratching my head.

I couldn’t even hazard a guess on what was going through him because he always kept himself closed off.

Luckily I had access to my water bottle and the TV remote, but as I switched it on and flipped through the limited channels, I found myself hating the shithole once again.





It took four hours of talk shows along with some soaps for Six to return. The tires on gravel stopped my heart for a beat, then I heard the slam of the car door. I stared at the door, watching as it opened and he stepped in.

The strange man of the morning was gone, replaced with the normal cool, collected version.

He threw a bag onto the bed as he walked over.

“What goodies do we have today?” I asked.