Chapter Three

Elle

FROM ONE CABIN to another.

The décor and building materials were the same (pine everywhere), but this was smaller with a cozy living room, tiny kitchen, and narrow hallway to the bedrooms.

However, judging by the car headlights that’d glinted off a body of water as we pulled down the long drive and stopped outside the quaint dwelling, we were now on a lake rather than buried in a forest.

The clock over the higgledy-piggledy stone fireplace said we’d been here an hour.

A full hour since Greg tossed me onto the red and navy plaid couch, grabbed a bottle of gin from the fridge, and made us both a cocktail.

I’d accepted it and actually drank the sour liquid, doing my best to relax and let the liquor take away my fear so I could concentrate on the best way to get free.

My attention refused to leave the clock.

Four a.m. yet my eyes were wide and brain zapping with awareness rather than scratchy with sleep. We’d been traveling for hours. It felt like days since I’d seen Penn or Larry or Stewie.

Months since I’d heard my dad or stroked Sage’s soft fur.

Too damn long being Greg’s little captive.

Greg groaned as he reclined on the single seat next to the couch; the twine from my wrist dangled over the arms of the chairs, forever joining me to him. “God, it’s good to sit down.”

“You’ve been sitting while driving.”

He sipped his cocktail. “Driving is tiring.”

“And kidnapping is wrong.”

“Who said anything about kidnapping?” He smirked, bringing the glass to his lips again. “Last time I checked, you weren’t a kid anymore.” His gaze dragged up and down my body.

“In fact, you’re very grown up.”

I fought the desire to slap him. My hands curled around my drink.

We stared for the longest minute, full of war and battle for authority.

Breaking the contest, I threw back the rest of the gin and planted the glass loudly on the wooden coffee table. “I need to go to the bathroom.”

“So demanding.” He stood, waiting for me to pull my aching body into standing. “But I can’t have you being uncomfortable now, can I?”

“Just being in your company makes me uncomfortable.”

His forehead furrowed. “Careful, Elle. That tongue of yours is going to get you into trouble.”

Yanking on the rope, he marched forward, dragging me with him.

He escorted me (for lack of a better kidnapping word) down the hallway to a single bathroom with a shower over the bath, an autumn leaf decorated shower curtain, and shell basin that had seen a few decades too many.

He sidestepped, letting me overtake him. “Don’t try anything.” Shoving me toward the toilet, he grinned and waved the string, pulling it with him. “I’ll be right outside.”

With his threat lingering, he shut the door.

If this had been a ploy to climb out the window or find a weapon in the medicine cabinet, the leash and my bladder would’ve made it impossible.

The twine barely gave me enough room to fumble with my dress and back up onto the toilet to do my business.

My arm remained speared in front of me, doing my best to keep the rope from cutting off my circulation.

Once done, I washed my face in the basin.

With droplets raining down my forehead, I glared at the whiteness of my cheeks from anxiety, the purple of my temple from his punch, and the redness in my left eye from his smack.

My blonde hair mimicked a mini tornado with out of control curls, and my makeup had smeared beneath both eyes making me look like a haggard aging rock star.

I hated the reflection.

Turning away, I sucked in a deep breath, preparing to tolerate him again. But I paused, eyeing the mirror.

~~I can’t go.

Not without checking.~

Pulling open the medicine cabinet, I tried not to give into the despondency of finding nothing of use. No toe-nail clippers, no scissors, not even a Q-tip or floss.

The cupboard was bare, just like the water-swelled drawers beneath the sink.

Not one piece of human mess that I could use to saw at the rope or puncture Greg’s jugular.

He smirked as I stepped into the corridor. “All done?”

I didn’t reply.

He marched forward, tugging on the string. He didn’t guide me back to the living room. “I think we’ve done enough for the night. I’m fucking wiped.”

So he’s taking me to bed.

This is it.

This was where my one-man experience became an unwanted two.

At least, he won’t steal my virginity.

How would it feel to be taken against my control? Would I maintain my calm annoyance or break into pleading tears?

I don’t want to find out.

He carted me into a bedroom, and turned on the bulb that hung in a sad tasseled shade above the queen-sized bed with a patchwork quilt, ancient wooden side tables, and wrought-iron bedside lights.

My skin crawled at the thought of sharing that mattress with him.

“Here, let me help you.” His hands landed on my shoulders, spinning me around to undo the invisible zip of my silver dress.

“No, wait—” I darted forward, but he jerked the tiny zipper and yanked at the heavy satin on my shoulders.

“I’ve waited long enough.” He tore the gorgeous garment off me, pushing it over my hips until gravity puddled it to the floor. Turning me around, he groaned.

The slinky silver and white lingerie I wore had been for Penn’s benefit, not his.

Penn—the man who’d lied to me about everything. The man who didn’t deserve me, just like Greg didn’t deserve me.

I clamped my free arm over my breasts, hating that so much of me was exposed.

I loathed the way his gaze latched onto my skin; how his hand came up to hover over my breast as if fighting his desire to touch me.

His eyes met mine as he licked his lips. “I was going to make us official tonight, but I’ve waited so fucking long to have you, Elle, I’ve become a bit of a sadist.”

He leaned in, brushing his mouth over my bruised cheekbone from the driveway gravel. “I’m so hard for you, but the anticipation of what I’m going to do to you is almost as good as doing it.”

Letting me go, he unbuttoned his shirt and tossed it on the floor, followed by his shoes, socks, and jeans. “For the next few hours, we’ll rest. And then…we’ll have some fun.”

He wasn’t lying that he wanted me. His cock stood proud in white boxers, mimicking a totem pole and flagstaff.

I tore my eyes away in disgust.

He chuckled under his breath. “Time to sleep, Elle.

“Tomorrow is a new day, and we have a shit-load of things to do.” Pulling the twine around my wrist, he guided me to the bed and pulled back the sheets. “Get in.”

My throat swelled with tears.

The scream inside wanted to erupt and destroy—to summon help even though Greg had successfully laid a red herring and driven in a car I’d never seen before to a cabin he’d never mentioned.

We’d cut through forest and roads and small townships.

We were well and truly gone.

No one would come if I cried for help.

No one could save me but me.

When I didn’t move, he pushed me onto the mattress. I fell forward, flopping angrily onto my side and curling my legs up to hide as much of my lingerie-clad body as possible.

Greg stared down like a doting lover, running his finger over my jawline, tucking in a curl. “I can’t believe we’re here. Together.”

I arched away from his touch, trying to kill him with my stare. “We’re not together. I don’t want this. You’re forcing me. Don’t ever forget that I don’t want you. I never have and I never will.”

He stiffened. “You’ll take that back. You’ll see.”

“Wrong. It will only become more and more real the longer you keep me. I liked you before, Greg. I thought you were a nice friend. But now…now, I hate you.”

Clenching his jaw, he swiped the comforter from beneath my legs, making me roll a little. “Your lies are almost as bad as his were.”

The painful barb wriggled inside me as he gently placed the linen over me. His footsteps fell heavy on the floorboards as he turned out the light and climbed into bed.

I remained stiff and unyielding, but he spooned me, gathering me tight in his arms.

His erection prodded my ass, making me sick.

The memories of sleeping with Penn and the chemistry between us tried to replace my current situation. But even that wasn’t comforting.

Penn had destroyed what I’d felt for him by being so terribly linked to my past.

He’d proven I couldn’t trust anyone.

~~Only my cat.~

~Thank goodness, Dad had taken Sage home tonight; otherwise, she’d be unfed and unloved.

~~God, Dad will panic when I don’t show for work tomorrow~.~

Fear about his heart pushed through me, ignoring my situation, tearing me into pieces about what this would do to him.

I swallowed my loathing, whispering in the dark. “Greg?”

He snuggled closer, his hips jamming forward. “Yes, baby?”

I shivered. “I’m not your baby.”

“You are now.”

I wouldn’t let him distract me with an argument I couldn’t win. “I need to call my father. You know he has heart issues. He needs to know I’m okay.”

His nose tickled the back of my neck. “He’ll survive.”

I tried to wriggle away, but his arms looped tighter. The damn rope around my wrist kept me pinned. “He’ll panic.”

“Not my problem.”

I shoved backward, rocking the bed. “It~ ~is~~ your problem. And I’ll tell you why. If he dies because of the stress of what you’ve done, I’ll never stop trying to kill you.

“You have my undying promise that I will—”

He slapped a hand over my mouth, dragging my head backward until my skull wedged against his chin. “Hush. I’m trying to sleep.” His cock thrust against my ass.

“If you’re a good girl, I might let you call him tomorrow. If you agree to our agreement.”

I tensed.

No way in hell would I willingly sleep with him, but if he held my father’s health as bribery, I would do what he wanted.

I’d obey because I could never live with myself if Dad had another heart attack.

~~I hate you, Greg~.~

He kissed my cheek. “Now, no more talking.” Wrapping the string from my wrist around his fingers, he stroked my hair with a threat disguised as tenderness. “Goodnight, Elle.

“Tomorrow is going to be so much fun.”