5. Carsyn
FIVE
CARSYN
T he puddle at my feet grows the longer I stand there, but for the life of me, I can’t wrap my mind around it. Across the bed, over the cornflower blue comforter, clothes are laid out for me. A pair of black leggings, thick wooly socks, a tank top, a button up flannel, and undergarments. Everything is new, despite the fact I don’t see any price tags, they still bear their folding lines and packaging crinkles.
“Ordered some stuff the night you came over, I think it’s all your size,” Garrison says as he pushes open the cracked bedroom door and steps inside.
Clutching the towel to my chest, I jump back and nearly slip in my own post-shower puddle. “Hey! You said you weren’t going to come in while I was showering! I’m naked!” I hiss, holding the towel even tighter, as if it’s going to cover more.
Garrison walks past me, opening the cupboard between the bedroom and bathroom, pulling out a clean new towel. He tosses it over the wet spot on the floor. “Don’t do something dramatic and slip and kill yourself. Get dressed while you’re wrists are still free.”
He bends down to wipe the rest of the water up and I take my shot, bringing my foot up, aligning my heel with his ear. He grabs me around the ankle mid kick, catching me before I can connect.
“Quit actin’ out.” He lowers my foot to the floor and stands, wet towel in hands. “I didn’t come into the bathroom while you were showering. I came into your room to put your clothes out.”
A rivulet of water rolls down my inner thigh, sending a reactive shiver up my spine. “Fine, now get out so I can get dressed.”
Garrison lifts his eyebrows, his expression unmoving as he drops his hands on top of my shoulders, walking me back to the bedroom wall. He smells like whiskey and coffee as he breathes down on me, something pressing between my shoulder blades. His full lips part, and I think he’s going to say something, or maybe force me to kiss him, but instead, he spins me, bringing my wrists to the hook in the wall. Metal clatters and keys jingle, and before I know it, my wrists are hooked to the loop and he’s on his knees at my feet.
Our eyes hold in the mirror.
At some point he snatched the panties and leggings from the bed, and they’re near his boot as he frees my ankle. I rear back, attempting to kick him in the face, because this entire time I’ve been captive, why the fuck haven’t I been fighting more? I’ve been Drew Barrymore when I should’ve been Neve Campbell. I’m Neve, for fuck’s sake.
Except, even though his eyes don’t leave mine as I peer at him through my arms. He catches my foot, twisting it to the side until it feels like it’s gonna break.
“Ah!! Fuck!! Quit!” I shout at him, praying to God I don’t find out what my ankle breaking sounds like.
“Quit actin’ out, I told you.” He lets out a sigh as he loops the satin panties around my foot, tapping my ankle to get me to lift the other. Carefully, he does the same with the leggings, then rises as he shimmies them up. Ominous and overwhelming, his presence looming over causes my instincts to fight come alive as my window of opportunity closes.
How can I get the keys? How can I get the fuck out of here? I just showered. And now I’m wearing new clothes in my size. If I don’t try and get away, I’ll be a prisoner forever.
No.
I have to see Colton again. We just righted our relationship. He just made it out of hell.
And Kinleigh. Kinleigh is like my sister now. She needs me.
Nash and Gen need me to fight too. They don’t need me playing nice and taking hot showers.
Everyone needs me to fight.
The only weapon I have now is preying on every man’s weakness.
His dick.
Garrison’s arms come around me as he unlocks my cuffs from the wall. With my heart rattling in my ribs and fear churning hot in my belly, I turn to face him, our lips so close I can nearly taste the whiskey he spiked his coffee with. “You wanna fuck?”
He pauses for a moment, his deep, soulful eyes searching mine.
“Well?” I purr, licking my lips. Inside, I’m holding back a whole-body tremble. What if he says yes? What if he fucks me now? I’ve put it out there. I can’t even say he raped me. It’ll be something evil that I invited.
“Put your shirt on,” he says finally, leaving the room. I stand by the wall, topless, chained at the ankle, and regroup. If I’m gonna seduce him, it’s gotta take more than an empty offer
Before I’ve moved, Garrison returns, his presence eating at my calm.
“I told you to put your shirt on.”
With a deep breath, I bring my hands to my breasts and tuck my chin to my chest, strands of wet hair tickling my back. “C’mon Garrison, you know you wanna fuck me. Come put your mouth on my body and show me how you make women scream,” I say, goosebumps breaking out along my flesh from the double entendre of my words. “The good way.”
“No,” he says simply.
Before I can even drop my hands and fully seduce him, he rushes me, shoving me down against the bed, his hefty frame pinning me, rendering me immobile.
“Su-such a gentleman,” I breathe, forcing my eyes to stay on his, pretending his sudden bum rush didn’t just terrify me. Brave women do not close their eyes in the face of danger. I refuse.
With his beard tickling my face, he growls, “I ain’t no gentleman,” he says, voice husky. “But I am sorry for this.”
“For the captivity? The chains? Be specific,” I murmur as he shifts on top of me, something hard poking my thigh.
“For the sedative. It’s going into your side now.” His eyes search mine.
“What?” I breathe, processing his words. “No! No, I?—”
There’s a prick in my side, followed by pressure and heat. So much heat.
And then there’s nothing.