Page 64 of Drowning in Darkness

TWENTY-ONE

JAMES

Five-star reviews are difficult to earn in the kidnapping industry. Apparently, “excellent breakfast” only gets you so far.

I reach for her now-empty mug, but she hugs it to her chest, drawing my eyes to the cleavage peeking through my shirt.

“I haven’t had my fill,” she tells me.

“You’ve had two cups.”

“As I said, I haven’t had my fill. Don’t come between a woman and her caffeine fix before 10 a.m.”

I swipe a hand down my face and shake my head. This is going to be a test. Of what? I’ve yet to decide.

I turn and pull out two pill bottles and hand them over to her. She swallows the antibiotic and grimaces at the painkiller.

“You’ve got bruised ribs,” I remind her.

“Silly me. I hadn’t noticed.”

Brat.

I fold my arms and stare her down. “Take the pills.”

She shoves the bottle away. “Absolutely not.”

“Why?”

“I don’t like the way they make me feel.”

I arch a brow and wait for her to explain. She huffs. “Out of control. Detached. Giddy, but sad.”

Ah, now I understand. She spent a lot of time having her choices taken away from her. Now that she has control, she isn’t willing to give it up. “It’s temporary, and you are safe here,” I remind her.

Her lips twitch. “Pain is a necessary thing. It reminds us we’re alive and warns us of things we should avoid. Masking it serves no purpose.”

I press my lips into a thin line, knowing I’ve lost this battle. “If it gets too much, or if you can’t sleep, do you promise to take them?”

Her eyes flick away from me. “Sure.”

Such a bad liar. I drag in a breath. “Go grab a shower, then I’ll give you that tour. I’ll even include a snack stop.”

Finally, she lifts her eyes to mine, a spark of interest in them. Did she think I was going to lock her in her bedroom and make her wait this out? Surely she knows she’s free. Although I kidnapped her, Camryn ran with her. Maybe her mind is stuck on those things. I’ll just have to convince her otherwise.

Stephanie disappears down the hall, muttering something about kidnappers requiring a better hospitality package while clutching her third refill of tea in the ladybug mug.

I rinse the plates under hot water before stacking them into the dishwasher. It would be quicker to leave them soaking in the sink until later, but my mother raised me to leave a kitchen cleaner than I found it. Some habits survive regardless of the life that follows.

My phone vibrates against the worktop.

Daisy: Reminder. Vacation officially starts today. If you need me, holler.

A second message arrives before I finish reading the first.

Daisy: Actually, don’t need me. That’s the whole point of a vacation. But I worry about you.

The corner of my mouth threatens to betray me as I type a reply. What does a dominatrix do on vacation?