A true emblem of imprisonment.
For the longest moment, Sully stood on the other side of my cage. His jaw clenched and hands shook. He looked conflicted with regret but also cruel with resignation.
I wished I knew how to speak to his regret. To know the right things to say—to entreat to the part of him that did care. The man who held an otter with such sweet affection and who kissed a parrot on his head.
But for all my belief that I’d begun to understand him, I’d only made it worse.
Please think of me as an animal, so you’ll like me.
Ugh!
What a ridiculous thing to say.
I drowned in embarrassment, flushing with heat.
Shaking his head, dispelling the same pain I’d seen in him when Skittles had landed on my shoulder, he raked a hand through his hair and straightened his spine.
Holding out his hand, he ordered, “Give me your robe.”
I backed up until my shoulder blades clanged against the bars behind me. “Please…can’t I keep it?” I looked around at the bareness. The island temperatures ensured it remained warm, even in this horrific place, but the historic screams of the cage’s prior inhabitants turned the air icy.
I didn’t know how long he intended to keep me in here, but I didn’t want to be naked. I didn’t want to be so…vulnerable.
“Robe, Jinx. I won’t ask again.” His hand remained steady by the bars, waiting for me to obey.
I’d never been very rebellious as a child, but the inner brat inside me wanted to throw a tantrum. To rattle the bars. To bounce in the box. To scream and refuse. To turn as wild as this cage said I was.
But…decorum was my final threshold. Everything else had been stripped from me.
With a tattered breath and feeble rise of my chin, I undid the belt and slipped the softness off my shoulders. I winced as the wire beneath my toes hurt, moving toward him to press the only thing I had into his awaiting hand.
The moment it filled his palm, he yanked it through the bars and tossed it on the floor. Silently, he stalked to the back of the villa where yet more cages rested. Some long, some skinny, some rusted beyond use, and others scarily new.
He returned with a tray and a stool.
Every footfall of his expensive shoes echoed in the depressing place, bringing him back to me. I wrapped my arms around my breasts as he slammed the stool in front of my cage then unlocked the door and placed the tray at my feet.
Stepping out, he slid the padlock back into position before unbuttoning his blazer and sitting majestically on the stool. Legs spread with arrogance. Power dripping from his perfectionism. His beauty once again a monstrous sin.
He kept revealing parts of himself, keeping me walking a tightrope of hope and despair. One moment, I believed he was redeemable…lovable. The next, I wanted him to die a horrible, miserable death.
His stare travelled over my body while his voice gravelled with aggression. “This is what’s going to happen. You are going to obey my every request. If you do what I ask, we shall negotiate your length of residence in this cage. If you don’t, then I’ll decide how long you need to be punished.” His ocean gaze darkened. “And believe me, Jinx…you have a lot to be punished for.”
Twice he’d called me Jinx.
Not Eleanor.
Tonight, it seemed he wouldn’t slip between names. He was resolute with his torture, teaching a runaway a lesson.
Fine.
I would obey. Purely because I wanted out of this place as soon as possible.
“That bottle with the cream label.” He arched his chin at the tray. “Apply that to your skin.”
I cringed at the thought of putting on a show for him. Of dropping my arms from my breasts and revealing everything. I also shivered with the similarities between the horror movie of a psychopath who made women rub lotion into their skin to make a suit out of their stripped carcasses.
Sully was a man with murky morals, but surely, he wasn’t a psychopath.
Keeping my eyes from his, I bowed into obedience, regardless of my thoughts.
Needs versus embarrassment.
I chose the need for freedom. Just as I had with the kayak and potential death.
Ducking, I collected the bottle he’d mentioned. The label held scientific mumbo jumbo. A recipe or ingredient list, rather than some fancy stickers of cosmetics. The only thing I recognised was the SSG logo on the bottom corner. A logo that I’d seen on stationery in his office.
I didn’t know what it stood for, but I popped the lid and squirted a generous amount of clear looking serum onto my palm.
Not looking at Sully, I liberally applied the ointment. My belly, legs, arms, and face. Every inch covered with odourless, colourless salve. Almost immediately, a cooling sensation overtook my tingling sunburn, actively removing the heat, and soothing my skin from the outside in.