Page 9 of Promise of Punishment

She doesn’t answer, and her hands stop caressing me.

“Did he hurt you?” Something tells me he did.

She lets out a shaky breath. “We’re safe now. That’s all that matters.”

For the first time since this happened, I have a reason to live. So I can kill the motherfucking bastard who hurt this sweet girl.

Wes

Three days pass with my angel making regular visits. She wants to get me out of here, but she’ll need help or to find a way to open the gate.

“That key is long gone,” I explain.

“But someone brought you in here. They couldn’t have just thrown you over the wall. You weigh too much.”

Three large men could toss me over. I’ve no doubt they did.

“How tall are you anyway?” she asks.

“Six-four.”

She laughs. “I’m five-two. No wonder you were so hard to move.”

That and I’m all muscle—lean but ripped. “How were you able to?” I ask, bewildered.

She hesitates. “I tied a rope around a sleeping bag, rolled you onto it, and wrapped the rope around a nearby tree. Then I used my feet to push against the trunk and pulled the rope, sliding you to the shed. It took all day.”

“Did you hurt your hands?”

“They’re fine. I wore gloves.” She pauses, then blurts in agony. “I hate that I hurt you when you were sleeping.”

“You’d rather I had been awake?”

“I’d rather you not hurt at all, but causing you pain while you’re sleeping seems like a betrayal of your trust.”

I almost laugh, but wouldn’t dare. “I’d rather be asleep and not feel the pain.”

“It wasn’t too far. I had to hack down a bush first to get a straight path, but the distance was about the length of your body, so you weren’t in extra pain for too long.”

This tiny girl is unbelievable.

I can open my eyes enough to see her, but not clearly. I have no idea what she looks like other than a dark, fuzzy silhouette.

“What color is your hair?”

“Dark brown.”

“Long or short?”

“Long.”

“What color is your skin?” I want a full mental image.

“Purple.”

It takes me a few seconds to catch on that she’s joking. I laugh and regret it immediately.

“Sorry. Sorry. Oh my god. That was horrible. Please forgive me.”