I don't reply because I've lost the ability to speak. There's nothing pretentious or fake about what he just said. And then I realize… he's every bit as captive as I am.
"Let's get some rest," he says, his raspy voice taking on the stern register he likes to revert to. But he's not fooling me. I heard every word he said.
He brushes the crumbs off the table into the palm of his hand, walks to the door and scatters them outside. I assume for birds or something, like some kind of altruist. He leaves the two water cups on the table.
We walk together to the bedroom. I don't ask him about the bed. I don't talk to him at all. It's the middle of the day, probably lunchtime, and I'm suddenly exhausted. He's right. We've had a long night and I do want to rest.
I haven’t taken a nap since I was a child. Somehow, I feel justified.
I don't think that I can actually sleep lying next to him, though. Not when I have as many questions going through my head as I do. I don't think I'll rest at all. But I'm wrong. He turns down the blanket, lifts me up since getting onto the bed with cuffed wrists is impossible, and lies me down on the mattress. Without a word, he unfastens my cuffs and arranges me on the bed so my hands are in front of me and then his hands are the shackles around my wrists. We lay so close together there isn’t an inch of space between us.
“Don’t move,” he whispers in my ear, his mouth so close to me the hair on my neck flutters. “Close your eyes and rest. If you try anything funny, I’ll punish you.”
“Yeah,” I say on a yawn.
“I wouldn’t be so blasé about it if I were you. I’ll pull you over my knee and spank your ass. You’ll wish you hadn’t, Vivia.”
Again, his raspy threat makes curiosity and something else, something darker and erotic, flare across my chest.
Fine, whatever, I’m tired.
I only nod my head and close my eyes.
I tell myself I don’t like the way his body feels pressed up to mine. I tell myself I don’t like the warmth, the feeling of protection, or the way his hard length pressed up against my ass tells me he sees me, and he likes what he sees.
I tell myself we’re captives here in the middle of nowhere.
I tell myself my only chance is to do what he says and survive while I plan.
And then I’ll escape.
* * *