Chapter Four – Zane
I hesitated outside the door. I knew this was the last thing I should be doing.
But I couldn’t just leave her in there to starve, could I? I couldn’t just stand by while she went hungry. I knew all too well what it felt like not to have anyone around you who was willing to so much as feed you and even if I had kidnapped her, that didn’t mean I was willing to put her through that, too.
I stared at the door as the scent of the food I had picked up filled my senses. It had been at least a day since she had last eaten, and I knew how brutal an empty stomach could be on a hangover like that. She deserved to eat if I was going to keep her here any longer. I doubted she would be happy about accepting this from me, but I didn’t care. I wasn’t going to let her die on my watch. I had let her out to the bathroom once already, and she had complained non-stop about how hungry she was.
I slid back the lock on the door and stepped inside. She flipped over on the bed, turning to face me, her eyes blank as they locked on to mine. But when she saw the food I was carrying, her face lit up.
“Is that for me?” she asked, scrambling upright. I nodded.
“I didn’t just bring it in here to tease you with,” I shot back, annoyed she would even ask. She didn’t even seem to notice my tone, shuffling so she could sit up properly.
“What is it? Thai? It smells like Thai...” she burbled, clearly so excited to eat she couldn’t even think straight. I planted myself down on the bed opposite her and laid out a couple of boxes of the food in front of her. She flicked her tongue over her lips as she surveyed them, clearly more than ready to start gorging herself.
Reaching into my pocket, I pulled out a small flip knife and flicked the blade out. She recoiled as it caught the light, the metal flashing for a moment, her eyes widening.
“What’s that for?”
“To cut your tie,” I replied, shifting so I was just an inch or two from her wrist. “You can’t eat with one hand. Here...”
I slipped the blade beneath the taut plastic and pulled it away from her sharply, breaking it with ease. I had plenty of these things with me. I could just tie her up again as soon as I was ready.
She pulled her wrist loose and circled it a few times, massaging the skin where a red welt had already begun to form.
“God, that’s so much better,” she muttered, and before I could say another word, she practically lunged at the food, grabbing some spring rolls and dropping them into her mouth. She groaned with satisfaction, and I couldn’t help but smile with amusement at how forthright she was being. She clearly didn’t see any need to hold back after so long without eating, and there was a part of me that liked how forward she was.
“God, that’s good,” she groaned as she swallowed her foot and opened the bottle of water I had brought for her. She took a few gulps and then stopped dead, looking panicked.
“Wait, did you— did you put something in this?”
“No,” I replied, rolling my eyes. “Why would I need to? You’re here, aren’t you?”
“I guess,” she muttered, but she still eyed the bottle as though she didn’t believe me. I took it from her and took a long swig and then handed it back. For the briefest moment, our fingertips touched around the bottle, the first time I had really touched her all day.
“See?” I remarked. “Nothing. I don’t need to drug you.”
“Again.”
“You know, I don’t even know your name,” she admitted as she picked at a loose thread on the sheet.
“You don’t need to know my name.”
“I don’t need to. I want to. Can you at least tell me that? So I know who I’m dealing with?”
I eyed her for a moment. Was this a good idea? I scanned the request, wondering if there was any way she could use this against me. I couldn’t see any harm in it.
“Zane.”
“Chelsea,” she blurted out. Chelsea—it suited her.
“I’d say it’s good to meet you,” she remarked, giving me a slightly crooked smile. “But you know. The kidnapping and all...”
“Yeah, well, you were never going to come with me otherwise,” I pointed out.
“And that didn’t give you second thoughts?”
“You think I’m under the impression you want to be here?” I replied. “Come on. You know what you’re here for. I wasn’t going to fuck around and try to convince you to come on your own. You would never have left those assholes behind—”
“Don’t call them that,” she shot back, her voice harsh, tense. Her eyes locked on to mine for a moment, and I found myself staring back at her. In this light, I could see the hazel flecks in her green eyes that seemed to catch the light like speckles of gold in a river.
“That’s what they are,” I replied, shrugging. “Why should I pretend any different?”
“Because that’s my family you’re talking about.”
“And what about my family?” I demanded. “If your family had never existed, mine would.”
She bit her lip, falling silent for a moment. Yeah, she didn’t have some smart comeback for that. I drew my gaze away from hers, not wanting to give away any more than I already had; I felt like I’d edged too close to sharing the truth with her, and I didn’t want to deal with that. I hadn’t spoken to anyone about what had happened to Liam, and I didn’t want to start now, least of all with someone so close to the people who had killed him.
“What happened to your family?” she asked me, her voice taking on a soft edge that caught me off guard.
“What do you mean?” Like she gave a damn. She was just trying a different approach to get me to give her what she wanted. There wasn’t a chance I would fall for it. I knew better than to give away anything about myself, not to her, not when I had her right where I wanted her.
“You said something happened to your brother. What was it?”
I was surprised she remembered me so much as talking about that. I had thrown that shit at her in the hopes of catching her out, but she was treating it… treating it like some kind of intimacy.
“It doesn’t matter.”
I rose to my feet again, not bothering to find another tie to lock her back up.
“Of course it matters,” she replied, raising her eyebrows at me. “It’s why you’ve got me here, isn’t it? Because of what happened to him?”
“Don’t talk about him,” I snapped at her. I didn’t want her trying to worm her way into my good books, not knowing the kind of person she was, not knowing the people she was associated with. If she thought it was going to be that easy to get under my skin, she had another thing coming.
I headed toward the door before she could say another word. She could have the food. I wasn’t going to tie her back to the bed. I would just lock the door behind me, and there would be no way for her to get out.
“Hey, please, just talk to me!” she called after me, but I shut the door tight behind me and slid the lock home. Shit. I didn’t know what was going on here, but there had been a part of me that wanted to tell her why I was doing this.
I didn’t talk to anyone about that shit. Not a damn person on this planet needed to know why I did the things I did, why I chose to take revenge for what had happened to my brother, least of all her. I had learned a long time ago to keep this shit firmly to myself. There was nothing to be gained in going to other people for help. All it did was give them power over you, power to control you because they knew what could hurt you. I was never going to let anyone do that to me, not again, not after I had come so far in putting that life behind me.
I leaned against the door for a moment, eyes closed as my mind drifted back to all those times when I had been a kid, a kid, searching for some kind of care and support from my mom, coming to her crying because I skinned my knee, how she had brushed me off and told me to handle it myself because I was old enough to do it. Drunk, she had slumped there in the armchair, the low buzz of the TV in the background, and told me that she wasn’t going to help.
“You’re a big boy,” she had slurred to me. “You deal with it.”
I had taken that to heart then, and it stuck with me, even now. I didn’t go to anyone else for help. Something had happened to my brother? Then I would deal with it. That’s how I handled my shit. How I always had.
I made my way over to the counter, where I’d left the food I’d brought for myself. I had headed out late and kept watch on my journey, glancing at the road behind me as I made sure nobody was following me. I doubted the Dogs would have been on to me yet, and I intended to let them sweat it out for a while before I told them I was the one who had taken Chelsea, one of their daughters. I knew it would throw them into disarray, knowing the people close to them weren’t safe. Knowing their families weren’t exempt from this.
Just like mine hadn’t been.