Chapter 32
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
Axel handcuffed me to the bed. He fucking handcuffed me to the fucking bed. He said he’d be back as soon as he could, but it got dark out, and I screamed myself hoarse, letting the self-pity overtake me.
It didn’t work. I fought, and nothing changed.
How in the fuck do I have such bad luck? Like how did I fuck up so bad to be handcuffed to a man’s bed while being stalked by my ex?
At this point, it’s not bad luck. At this point, it’s gotta be something I’m doing wrong. My ancestors have to be looking down and shaking their heads. I’ll never have kids. This generational trauma ends here.
I’m exhausted, and my hand throbs. Earlier in the day, when I was alone, I punched the window trying to get out, and it popped something in my thumb.
Then I tried throwing the dresser drawer at the window, but it split into pieces.
Who the fuck knew glass was that strong?
And, of course, the noise brought Axel into the room.
I tried to hit him with the broken dresser, but he just wrestled me down and handcuffed me to the bed.
Instead of beating me, Axel just offered me food and water and then left. He didn’t yell at me, either. He didn’t even try to touch me other than to tie me down.
Clearly, Axel’s playing some kind of game that I don’t have the rule book for. But I’m gonna learn. Oh boy, am I going to learn.
I’m pretty sure Axel left the house because I heard a car door and then the sound of an engine pulling away.
That’s when I started screaming. No one came to help me, so I spent my time imagining ways I’m going to torture Axel once I get free. Tying him down and sticking toothpicks under his nails as he cries is my favorite idea so far.
I must have fallen asleep because I’m woken by the sound of the doorknob turning. I jerk up, straightening, blinking my dry eyes.
“Hey, little bird.” Axel raises his hands.
I struggle to prop myself up with my hands above my head. Axel stops in the doorway, watching me.
“Can I take those off?” He raises his eyebrow and nods at my hands.
I narrow my eyes on him. He approaches slowly, and I watch him, scanning him. He’s in a tight, button-down white shirt tucked into his slim waist. As he leans over me, I smell him now. He smells like…bacon?
It’s then that I smell the bacon coming from downstairs, and my stomach grumbles.
“There you go.” Axel removes the cuffs and backs away.
I sit up warily.
“C’mon.” Axel starts walking to the stairs. “I have breakfast.”
I blink. I slept all night? He’s going to let me leave the room?
We’ve reached a new checkpoint in the game.
I weigh my options. If he’s asking me to do it, I probably don’t want to. But I won’t accomplish much staying here either.
When I stand up, a wave of blackness rolls over me, and I have to catch myself on the doorframe. It causes pain to fill my wrist, but I latch onto it to keep me awake.
When I recover, Axel’s moved up a step, looking like he’s going to try and help me.
Fuck no.
I straighten. Axel nods, then leads the way down the stairs.
I follow, taking in the house now that I’m not over Axel’s shoulder. It seems older, with little dents in the paint, and the handrail is scratched. The stairs open up to the kitchen on the left and the living room straight ahead.
I look around. The furniture is nice, not unlike Gage’s house. There’s a front door in the living room and a back door attached to the kitchen. I wonder if they’re locked?
Axel is waiting by the kitchen, where there’s a small table. He has a chair pulled out. “Where would you go?”
I snap my gaze to his. He looks at the front door and then back to me.
Did he clock me looking at the exits? Okay, so he’s prepared for me to run. Clearly, I’m playing right into his hands.
“Sit. I made breakfast.”
I’m starving. I’m used to the feeling, so I know that it’s only downhill from here. I need to eat so I have more energy to get away.
So, I sit.
Axel says thank you so softly, I wonder if I heard him right. He acts like nothing’s happened, dishing me out bacon, eggs, and fresh fruit. My mouth waters, but I wait until he’s served himself and starts eating before I start, too.
“Breakfast food.” He nods. “Noted.”
The food is good. I mean, salty, buttery, sweet goodness. The flavors explode, and I hold myself back from groaning, stuffing my face as fast as I can. I don’t have anything against certain kinds of food for breakfast, not that he needs to know that. I’m just grateful for any food at this point.
Once I finish my plate, I want to load myself another, but I force myself to wait. I know if I eat too much now, I’ll end up puking it up in the next few minutes. So, I grab a strawberry, forcing myself to nibble on it slowly.
I realize that Axel’s watching me.
I glare back at him. His glasses are slightly more boxy than I remember them being. These are different glasses. They look like the old pair Gage has.
Axel says nothing, so I don’t either. I take my time to take in the house, noting all the areas of escape and all the pieces of furniture I could potentially push into his path. I need to figure out how well he can see.
I reach out to grab the glass of water, downing it too fast, but I can’t help myself. It tastes too damn good. As soon as I put it down, I slide my hand along the table, grabbing the butter knife and slipping it down to my lap.
“More water?”
I nod.
Axel gets it for me, and I take the opportunity to slip the knife into my waistband.
“I feel like I should tell you that stabbing me will only turn me on.” Axel turns back to me. “But you should know that already.”
I lift my chin, crossing my arms.
Axel just smiles, flashing his white teeth, then shakes his head, dropping back into his chair. Then he goes back to watching me.
The attention makes me uncomfortable. “What are you looking at?”
“You.”
I shift in my seat, but he doesn’t stop watching me. The silence sinks into my skin, making me want to run. I look around. “So, now what?”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, are you going to let me go?”
“No.” The statement is quiet.
Figures. But he’s not mad at me for asking, so I push my luck further, “What if I walked out of that door anyway?”
“I wouldn’t let you.” He raises an eyebrow. “But feel free to test it if you don’t believe me.”
“Why?” I can’t help the bite of exasperation. “I’m my own person, Axel. You can’t just… keep me.”
He shrugs.
“Are you hearing me?”
Axel leans forward. “I hear you, little bird.”
“So you just don’t care? And don’t call me that.”
He shakes his head. “Oh, I care. That’s the problem.”
“Then let me go!”
“Tell me about Max.”
The name fills me with dread. Followed quickly by fear. How the hell does Axel know Max? Does this… Did he take me for Max? Dread fills my stomach. “I don’t…” Maybe it was a lucky guess? Surely, he’s not working with him.
“Is he stalking you?” There’s an edge to Axel’s voice.
I open my mouth, then close it. That’s an odd thing to ask if he’s working with Max. Or maybe he’s trying to throw me off.
Trying to swallow down my panic, I manage, “I don’t think that’s any of your business.”
Axel stares at me. “Do you have feelings for him?”
“What?” I sputter. Anger rises in me, and I almost spit out the word no, but I force myself to slow down. Axel’s asking this for a reason. My answer means something. The question is: what’s the right one?
I eye Axel, and he looks like he’s trying to hide how tense he is, reaching out for a piece of pineapple but not eating it.
If I say yes and he’s working with Max, they might not hurt me as badly. But even the idea of saying I have feelings for Max makes me feel sick. I have to make a choice.
“No,” I say, holding my breath and watching Axel closely. He lets out a breath, then his eyelids flutter. When he opens them again, he smiles at me. “So, what do you do for fun?”
For a second, all I can do is stare at him. Was that the right answer? I breathe, “What?”
“Like, what kinds of things make you happy?” He’s leaned back now, the lines of tension gone from his body.
I passed. The rush of relief is instant, and for a second, I feel lightheaded. I get the urge to laugh, which is odd because nothing is funny right now. “I uh… read?”
Axel grins. “Okay, nerd.”
He’s smiling. I’ve done something right again. Elation soars through me as Axel watches. We sit there in silence for a bit. Slowly, the silence becomes unbearable, and tension starts creeping back in. What am I supposed to do now? Does he want me to keep talking?
“What about you?” I ask, having to clear my throat.
“What about me?”
“What do you do for fun?” Asking the question makes me feel like I’m trying to make him feel better. Like I’ve forgiven him for what he’s done.
Instantly, I frown.
Axel watches me. “I cook. My mom taught me to cook early on, and I don’t know, I’ve just liked it ever since.”
I don’t even want to respond to that. I don’t give a flying fuck what he likes. It takes a second for the disgust to roll through me before I remember I’m playing a game. I don’t care, but it has to look like I care. And that fucking sucks. But I’ll do anything to survive.