Page 12 of Little Darling
“Be as stubborn as you want.” His voice was low and deep, his accent American. “But you're not going anywhere, so you’ll either starve to death or eat and drink what I give you.” He pushed the glass closer, his expression hard. Firm. “The faster you drink this, the sooner I can get you another one to flush out the sedative.”
It was as if his saying those words made me thirstier. I figured if he wanted to drug me again, he wouldn’t need to spike my drink. He’d just stab me in the neck with another needle, which I now remembered him doing so stealthily. I took the glass and moved right, scooting sideways on the bed before climbing off of it. At least the mattress was between us, yet I was even farther from the only escape.
I drank the water so fast I choked on it. He took the empty glass and left, but before I could make a move toward the door, he was back with the glass refilled. I snatched it away and drank that one, too, and when I finished, I exhaled at how good it felt to no longer be thirsty.
He moved over to the chair pressed to the wall and dragged it across the wooden floor, the legs scraping loudly in the room. He picked up the tray of food and set it on the mattress between us before he took a seat on that side.
When I didn’t go for the food, despite getting hungrier as the time passed, and I didn’t say a word, he finally leaned back in the chair and clasped his hands behind his head and said, “I brought you here because I wanted you. You’re mine, and we belong together.”
I took a few seconds to really look at him. His hair was short and dark, his eyes just as black, almost bottomless. He wore a plaid, long-sleeved button-up shirt, the sleeves rolled up to his forearms, and the first few buttons were undone at the collar. I could see a sprinkling of dark chest hair on the exposed skin.
“It's safer this way… to have you here with me.”
I felt a wave of incredulous anger fill me. “Safer?” My voice was flat. “You—” I inhaled deep and long and exhaled just as slowly. I glanced down at my wrist, holding it up as evidence, my flesh throbbing and sore. “How am I safer with you when you’re the one who did this to me?” My voice, although emotionless, was rising.
He stared at my wrist, and the bastard had the audacity to have a faint smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” he murmured, not saying it like a question. The motherfucker was proud of himself for what he’d done to me.
“But…,” I whispered, “why?”
“I needed you to understand how much you mean to me and how permanent you and I are.” He held his arm up, twisted his hand, and showed me his skin. And there, right on his wrist, was my name. “Now, I’ll always carry a part of you with me and vice versa.”
I recoiled in horror. Disbelief careened through me as I stared at my name. His skin was raised and slightly pink, the tattoo as fresh as mine. “You’re fucking crazy.” My voice was choked and strained, and I felt tears stream down my cheeks.
He sighed and leaned back in the chair. “You think that now, but in time, you’ll see how this is where you’re supposed to be. With me. Always.”
I shook my head, the sensation of adrenaline overriding the fog in my mind. “You can’t keep me here.” I said it with such certainty that, just for a split second,Ieven believed the words, as if saying them out loud meant they’d come true.
He didn’t speak, didn’t look arrogant after what I said, because we both knew what I said was a lie. He definitely could if he wanted to.
“My family and friends will start freaking out when I don’t return next week.” My voice was shaky when I said those words because they held zero truth. But he didn’t know that. Right? “Someone will come looking for me.”
He cocked his head slightly, his gaze steady, his expression unreadable. “I don’t like lies, Dolly. Let’s just keep it the truth between us, okay?”
I swallowed, trying to push down the thick, nervous lump in my throat.
“Even if what you said were true,” he said, low and steady, “it wouldn’t matter. No one will find us. No one will take you from me.”
“This is crazy.” My voice rose with my anger. “I’m nothing to you. Let me go.” I felt my face heating with my emotions.
“You’re everything to me.”
I felt like my eyes bulged out of my head at those words.
“I don't even know you.” In my head, that truth was screamed in a surge of panic, but it was nothing but a breathy whisper from my lips.
He was still and silent for long seconds, but then he leaned forward, braced his elbows on his jean-clad thighs, and stared at me. “But I know you, Dolly.” There was this fervent edge to his tone, as if heneededme to understand and accept it. “I've watched you. I understand and know you in ways no one else ever could.”
Oh my God. He’s a lunatic. Psychopathic.
I was still standing on the other side of the bed andtook several shaky steps back, my body coming in contact with the wall. “This is insane.You’reinsane.”
He stood then, and when he moved closer, I opened my mouth and screamed… but nothing came out. It was nothing but a fear-stricken gust of air that left me, and I couldn’t stop it until he stood right in front of me.
“I don't want to frighten you,” he whispered so gently it made me want to believe him with everything in me. “Don’t you understand?” He reached out and touched a lock of my hair, and I flinched, as if that touch burned me like a brand. “I want us to build a future together. I want you to trust me. And I know that’ll take time.” He stared at that lock of hair between his fingers, rubbing the strands as if mesmerized by the sight. “And I have all the time in the world for you, little darling.”
My arms were crossed over my chest, a defensive pose to protect myself. But the sting of the fresh tattoo reminded me I couldn’t protect myself at all from this man.
A wave of female rage built inside me again, and I placed my hands on his chest and pushed him. Surprisingly, I pushed him back an inch, but I knew I only could because he allowed me to.