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“I will, but not yet.” Travis got off the couch, kneeling before me. He touched my face, his fingers lightly running along my cheek. My neck tilted up toward him, and I found my eyelids closing. My body was a traitor. My body liked his touch, all things aside, sociopath or not.
I felt his nose graze mine, his lips so close his breath warmed my face, but he did not kiss me, and I dared not close the little distance between us. I was on his turf, not my own. This little game was his, and I would play by his rules, as long as he was here.
“When I let you go,” Travis murmured, a rough edge to his voice I’d never heard before, “you won’t want to look at anyone else but me.” Though my eyes were closed, though I couldn’t see him, he radiated danger. Pure, slick danger, and I let out a gasp when he pressed his lips against my forehead, giving me the gentlest kiss a sociopath could.
When he stopped touching me, when I no longer felt his breath on my skin, I opened my eyes and saw that he moved to his desk. Besides the chains, the room was remarkably clean, not a single thing out of place. Nothing hanging on the walls, nothing that said I have a personality, really! He was a neat little sociopath, apparently.
Travis pulled out a tablet, and his fingers typed in his password.
I watched him in silence for a while, but I eventually asked, “You were following me, weren’t you?”
His blue eyes flicked to me. “I was.”
“How did you know I was at the library?” It wasn’t like I made any statuses about it. For him to know I was at the library this morning, it was more than sheer luck. It was a master level of stalking.
“I tracked your phone” was his answer, as if it was simple.
“How? I never gave you my number.”
The look Travis gave me right then told me it all. “I have a lot of connections, thanks to my family.”
Of course. The money. My gaze fell to the floor, and I stared at my own shoes for a while. Being locked up here, I still wasn’t sure how it was supposed to make me fall for Travis and Travis alone, but it was what it was. I was here, and I couldn’t see any way out of this.
I had no idea how much time passed, but it felt like years. Hours, at the very least. Being stuck on the floor, near motionless, sucked ass. Travis looked at me every now and then, but besides that, he was mostly quiet.
This was…this was fucking torture. Honestly, I’d take violence over this.
“I have to pee,” I declared, almost proudly. Like an ah-ha moment—I have to pee, so what are you going to do about it? Just let me pee on the carpet? Ew.
“You better hold it, then.” He was firm in his answer, and I wanted to smack myself against the wall. I didn’t have to pee that badly, but it’d come eventually. A body could only hold it in for so long.
I looked at him, hating that I thought his side profile was just as attractive as the rest of him. He had a great nose. Beautiful eyes, too. “How long are you going to keep me here?”
Travis set his tablet down, turning to look at me. “However long it takes.”
Okay. Way to give me the most roundabout answer, buddy. “What do I have to do to show you that I don’t care about Sawyer? Tell me what I have to do, Travis. What do you want me to do?”
“I want you to be mine,” Travis answered, as if it was a simple command, something I could easily do. “I want you to want me more than anyone else.” Just when I was about to tell him that I already liked him a hell of a lot more than I should, my manacles aside, he set a hand on his stomach. “I’m hungry. Do you want anything from the union? Pizza, Chinese—I could get us both Italian subs?”
I held back a laugh. The way he spoke, as if all of this was normal. To him it probably was. To me? To me it was…there were no words for it, none I could think of right now.
“Pizza,” I said after thinking it over, and I watched him nod and go, after grabbing his keys and my phone, shoving the latter in his pocket.
Travis paused before the door, throwing a look over his shoulder. The expression he wore was one of urgent want, lust, and desperate hope. He really wanted me to be his and only his, didn’t he? And then he was gone.
I waited, making not a peep as I stared at the door. I didn’t move, hardly breathed. This could be some kind of trap, a ploy to see if I’d try to escape—but what if it wasn’t? What if he really was going to get pizza, and this was my only chance to get the hell out of here? Could I take that chance? What if I walked out of here and Travis was waiting for me?
Fuck. I didn’t know what to do.
Minutes ticked by, and eventually my eyes moved away from the door, landing on my backpack on his desk. His desk was seven feet away, my backpack and the key just out of reach. I tried stretching a leg over, seeking to kick my backpack off the desk and have it fall, thereby taking the key with it, but with my wrists chained to the furthermost bedpost, I was restricted in my movements. If one arm was free, I might be able to reach it…
Why would he leave the key here and take my phone? Was it some kind of psycho trust exercise? If it was, I was about to fail it, but I didn’t care. I knew enough about people like Travis to know they changed their minds fast, with little remorse for what they did. I wasn’t about to sit around and wait for him to strangle me with these chains.
I had to get that fucking key.It was a good thing I sent him for pizza. Those guys working the pizza place were always slow. If he really went there…I had some time.
My chin turned downward, and I stared at the two cuffs around my wrist. Each one had been locked individually. If I got out my right hand, maybe I could extend my other arm enough to reach the backpack and the key.
Maybe.
