His Choice - Rafe Cameron

27. Withdrawal

"Are you really a virgin, Maybank?"

I look away from his piercing blue eyes and at the blank wall opposite us. I don't want him to judge me for my answer like everybody else does. Guys usually tease me for it and call me a pussy, or they want to sleep with me to loosen me up as they say. 

"Yeah."

"Hey, look at me." He reaches for my face and tilts it towards him using his index finger. "Why do you say that with humiliation? That is something you should be proud of, not ashamed of."

I raise an eyebrow at him. "Really?" Rafe Cameron is the last person I would expect to be praising me for holding onto my virginity. He is someone I'd expect would tease me and tell me that nobody would ever want me. 

"Yeah, I mean I would be lying if I said I wasn't shocked. But I'm glad that you have respect for yourself."

I manage a small smile on my face. "Thanks Rafe. It's not like there haven't been opportunities. I just haven't felt a strong enough connection with someone to want to be so intimate with them."

He nods his head understandingly while staring at the ground beneath his feet. 

"What was your first time like?"

He slowly turns his head to look my way. "Oh, I'm a virgin Scarlett." He says with a blank poker face.

I close my eyes while shaking my head, trying not to smile. I open my eyes to respond to him. "Please, you're not fooling anyone."

Rafe's lips curve into a small smirk and the tiny creases form beside his eyes as he smiles. That's when I also notice the darkness beneath his eyes. 

"You look tired. Have you got any sleep yet?"

"I'll sleep when I know that you are safe." 

I pull him towards me so that he is resting his head against my shoulder again. "Please get some rest. We are going to need all of the energy that we can get if we want to put up a fight against these guys."

*

It's day three now. Three days since Rafe and I were taken here against our will. Only being fed two bread rolls and some mashed potato each day. And given just one bottle of water between us. 

I am starving, but I'm still alive and I'm still unharmed ... for now. 

I'm not worried about the dehydration. I'm not worried about the starvation. I'm not worried about what these guys are capable of. 

I'm worried about Rafe.

He has a cocaine addiction. He hasn't consumed the substance in four days. His body has shown signs of withdrawal. Each day is only getting worse. 

He spends most of his time sleeping because that gives his mind and body a break from the restless behaviour, anxiety, depressive thoughts and the worst one, increased appetite. It's bad enough being restricted of food and while they keep us locked in here. If we were in any other circumstance, he could eat a burger every hour to satisfy his cravings and drink lots of water to keep up his fluids. But we don't have that luxury. 

When he's awake, he gets hot and cold sensations, is constantly swimming in a pool of his own sweat and can't stop walking around because he is agitated. His body desperately wants the drug, but obviously there's no way he is going to get it. 

I sit across the room watching him. He is lying on the bed with the thick duvet tossed to the side because he got hot. His body starts fidgeting and I immediately get up from the floor because I know what is happening. This happens almost every time he is asleep.