Page 163 of You Found Me

They were in the wrong place.

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Della got down on her knees like a sinner in church, but she knew she wasn’t about to be saved.

How could she be? She was trapped in a fake bathroom inside a fake hotel room with a psycho, and the only person she could count on to save her hadn’t come.

It was starting to feel like he never would.

“Lean forward.” Lester’s hand on her back guided her into the position he wanted.

She gripped the side of the tub so hard her knuckles turned white as she bowed her head. She didn’t close her eyes. She couldn’t. Closing her eyes made everything so much worse.

Fear gripped her so hard that her teeth chattered.

“You’re cold.” Lester rubbed her shoulders and neck like a lover.

She suppressed her urge to cringe as his touch sent slivers of awareness down her spine. He believed they were a couple. She didn’t want to break his fantasy.

“I’m sorry there’s no way to heat the water.” He actually did sound apologetic. As if his failure to provide running water actually meant something. “I didn’t know they’d ruined your hair. If I had, I’d have planned this portion of our trip better.”

“It’s…okay.” Della clamped her teeth together. She’d never felt so bone-chillingly cold in her life, but the last thing she wanted was for him to try to warm her up.

“It’ll all be worth it when I’m done.” His hand moved from her neck to her hair. “My beautiful blonde will look like herself again and then we can get on our way. I can’t wait to show you our new home. You’re going to love it.”

A tear dripped from her cheek to mix with the murky water in the tub.

Lester smoothed her hair with a gentle hand. “Close your eyes, sweet thing.” When she didn’t, his hand tightened around her neck. “Now.”

Della did as she was told.

The sickly sweet smell of his cologne magnified a thousand times with her eyes shut, and the heat of his body where he pressed against her back made her stomach threaten to return the crackers he’d forced her to eat while the dye processed.

Water cascaded over her head as he caressed her hair with firm fingers.

The wave of tingles his touch created felt…good.

It shouldn’t feel good.

Why did it feel good?

It was wrong. All of this was so wrong.

She hated him. She’d never thought that about anyone in her entire life, but she hated this delusional, entitled, warped psychopath.

How could she enjoy any part of him touching her?

She wanted out of this nightmare, but at the same time, she hoped it never ended because after he finished with her hair, she’d have to deal with whatever came next.

Just the idea of what he might want…what he might do…

Her belief that Ward was on the way, that he would find her, was the only thing keeping her sane.

Lester poured more water over her head, rubbing spots here and there.

She felt the suppressed rage underneath the fake tenderness. His fingers were too hard despite the gentle stroking, and every now and then he let out a low sound of frustration. He’d hated her red hair so much he’d vibrated with the need to change it.

The water trickled to a stop.