Page 8 of Consumed By Fire
“Nothing to say?”
I shake my head.
“That’s a pity.”
The big brute does something completely unexpected. He picks me up and hoists me over his shoulder.
“What are you doing?” I yell, beating on his back, which may as well be made of solid granite. “Put me down!” I yell.
“Calm down. I’m getting you cleaned up and then getting you fed. I need you strong and healthy.”
“Put me down!” I yell again. “You can’t make me do anything.”
He marches toward the bathroom, but someone knocks and enters before he can turn the knob on the door.
“Is everything okay?” the person asks. It’s a male. He sounds young and uncertain. I twist my head, and sure enough, it is a younger-looking male. He’s frowning heavily.
“We’re fine,” Octane rasps, glancing back at the person at the door. His whole body stiffens. “I said that we were not to be disturbed. Your job is to ensure that my prisoner does not escape. You can do that from out there.” He points with a jerk of his thumb.
“Are you okay, Ma’am? Is he mistreating you in any way?” The other male locks eyes with me.
“Yes, he—”
“Get out, Goliath!” Octane snarls. I feel the vibration against my chest. “The female is fine. You don’t enter my bungalow unless invited. Do you understand?” He says it with such authority that I am tempted to obey him myself. One thing is for sure: Octane is a strong alpha male.
Goliath shuffles from one foot to the other. “Yes, but—” he starts to say in a soft voice.
“No buts. Get out before I put this female down and make you leave. Trust me, you don’t want that.”
“Okay…okay…but don’t—”
“Don’t what? I won’t hurt her; now get out!” Octane snarls with such force I close my eyes.
The door shuts, and we are alone.
Octane sighs. “That male is a liability,” he mutters as he opens the bathroom door. “Now, are you going to shower and eat, or are we going to have to do this the hard way?”
He puts me down, and I stagger a step or two. I am a little lightheaded after not eating since yesterday. I know it’s wrong, but I have to try to get my point across somehow because he clearly isn’t listening. I am sure that my baby will be okay for a short while. That he or she will take what they need from me.
“Leave me alone!” I yell.
“The hard way, then.” He grabs my shirt – make that his shirt – and rips it clean off of me. The sound of the fabric tearing is loud in my ears.
“Stop!” I shout.
“Don’t get all modest with me. It’s nothing I haven’t seen already.” He turns, opening the shower door, and I spin to run, but he’s on me in seconds, hooking an arm around me and yanking me against him.
I notice that he is being careful. His arm is just under my breasts, avoiding the swell of my belly. His hand curls around my hip. “Enough, Trinity,” he growls in my ear, giving me goosebumps all over my body. I’m not sure why, only that it is an odd reaction.
“Let me go.” I sound completely out of breath. My blood sugar must be low.
“No! You need to take care of yourself. Of your baby. I will wash you myself and force-feed you if I have to.” He marches me to the shower stall. I am helpless to fight him. Once inside, he turns on the faucet, and cold water sprays over us.
I yelp; this time, my goosebumps are for a different reason. I’m freezing. Thankfully, the water heats up quickly.
Octane lets me go. Finally! He grabs a bottle of shower gel and flicks open the lid.
“I can do it myself,” I tell him, taking the gel from his hand. The last thing I want is his hands on me. I shiver at the thought.