Chapter Ten
Abriana
Easton paced nervously back and forth across the worn hardwood planks. Tapping the handgun on his thigh, he muttered, “Why did I get into this?”
He sat down on a wooden rocking chair, got up, and began pacing again.
“I’m going to go to jail,” he said with a worried look on his face. “That’s it, my future is gone. The rest of my life is going to be spent in a jail cell.”
More pacing. More tapping.
He sank to his knees and placed his hands over his eyes. “Why did I ever listen to her in the first place? I mean, who pulls this kind of mess on someone?”
Buzz, buzz, buzz, buzz.
“Now isn’t a good time,” he snapped when he answered the phone.
“Did I do WHAT?” he shouted.
He paused. “What if I did? Then what would you do? Then you wouldn’t be able to play your stupid little games anymore!”
Suddenly he went silent and his face turned red with rage.
“You did WHAT,” he growled.
“NEVER threaten me again! Do you hear me?” Then, without hesitation, he chucked the phone across the room and stomped in the opposite direction.
A minute later he came back with the gun tucked in his pants and two open beers.
“I’ll never understand you women,” he said shaking his head.
“Here,” he said handing me an ice-cold beer. “Drink this.”
I shook my head.
“It will help you forget about your knee,” he said gruffly.
Looking down, the bleeding had finally stopped, but the gash left by the rock looked raw and angry.
“Fine,” I replied and reached for the beer. The glass bottle clanged against the handcuffs Easton had secured to my wrists. I guess I won’t be getting out of these any time soon.
I took a sip and let the chilly liquid slide down my throat. Closing my eyes, I tried to ignore the painful throbbing sensation in my knee.
“I’m sorry you got hurt,” said Easton in a quiet voice.
I could feel his eyes burning into me, but I refused to look him in the face.
“You didn’t have to point a gun at me.”
Easton shrugged his shoulders. “You tried to run away, again. What was I supposed to do?”
Deciding not to push it, I let the subject drop. Instead, I drank my beer quietly and scanned the room. When my eyes landed on my blindfold in the corner, I shuttered. I wonder why he didn’t make me put it back on?
“I’m going to make some dinner,” said Easton. A worried look crossed his face. “You better come with me.”
I stood up and followed him into the kitchen.
“Here,” he said pulling up two chairs. “Put your leg up and I’ll clean your knee and get you some ice.”
Opening up the cabinet he pulled out a first aid kit. Yellow with age, Easton scrunched as he flipped open the cover. He pulled out some antibiotic cream and gauze. Next he grabbed several paper towels and wet half of them.
“I need to clean it first,” he said as he turned around. “It might sting.”
I nodded as he picked up my leg and sat in the other chair. He gently dabbed the wet paper towel against the wound.
Wincing, I raked my teeth across my lower lip and tried not to scream.
“Almost done,” said Easton as his striking gray eyes narrowed in on mine.
After drying the area with another paper towel, he applied the antibiotic cream and covered the cut with gauze.
“I don’t see any tape, but if you keep your leg up, the gauze should stick for now.”
I nodded as Easton stood up and carefully picked up my leg. He eased it back on to the other chair and went to the refrigerator.
As he rummaged in the freezer, I studied his body. His arms were perfectly cut and although I couldn’t see his chest or stomach, I could almost bet that the muscles rippled into perfect formation. Too bad he’s a complete psychopath!
Easton turned around and handed me a frozen bag of peas. “Sorry, this is all I’ve got.”
“It’s fine,” I said.
His hand lingered as he handed me the bag of frozen vegetables. Averting my eyes, I dropped his gaze and eased the peas on my knee.
Easton watched me wince. “Wait,” he said. “You need a towel.” He pulled a small white towel that had been hanging on a cabinet handle and placed it on my knee.
“Thanks,” I said as I set the frozen peas down on the towel.
Easton went back to the fridge and pulled out a stack of cheese slices and a stick of butter. “I’m going to make grilled cheese. Want one?”
I wanted to tell him to piss off, but the beer had already made my head feel a little fuzzy and I was starving. “Sure.”
Easton grabbed a loaf of bread off of the counter and a plastic knife out of one of the drawers. My stomach growled as he carefully coated each piece of bread in butter and then meticulously placed the cheese on top.
Finally, he grabbed a pan from the drawer under the stove. He turned the burner on and sprayed it with some cooking spray.
While he waited for the pan to heat up, he turned around and looked at me. “Are you hurt anywhere else?”
Honestly, everything hurt. My knee, my shoulder, my wrists. Instead of admitting my weaknesses, I just shrugged my shoulders.
“Want another beer?” he asked.
“Yeah.”
Easton took the empty bottle in my hands and replaced it with a full one.
Without another word, he went back to the stove and inspected the pan. A few minutes later, he plopped the sandwiches in the pan and took a step back.
The smell of the buttered bread and melting cheese made my mouth water. I should have run away after this, I thought to myself. At least I would have had a full stomach and some energy.
What felt like an eternity passed. Finally, Easton pulled the sandwiches out of the pan and put them on a plate.
The aroma of the food consumed my senses and I actually got a little dizzy when he set the plate down on my lap. Confused, I looked up. “Don’t you want one?”
“Yeah, I’m going to make two more. I figured you must be hungry. You haven’t eaten hardly anything in days.”
Why is he being so nice to me?
Trying not to think about it, I set my beer on the counter and picked up my sandwich with cuffed hands. The first bite practically caused me to swoon. “Mmmmm,” I murmured.
Easton turned around with a slight smile on his face and a raised eyebrow. “You know you didn’t need to wait this long to eat.”
I kept my mouth shut as angry thoughts bombarded my mind. You didn’t need to kidnap me, drug me, or cut me either, but you still did all of that!
Taking another bite, I tried to focus on pacing myself. If Easton hadn’t been watching, I probably would have shoved the entire grilled cheese in my mouth at once.
After a few more minutes, his sandwiches were done and he sat down next to me with a glass of water.
“Did they taste alright?” he asked with a mouthful of bread and cheese.
“Yeah, they were good. Thanks.” Ugh! I hated thanking him!
He finished his dinner in silence, although I caught him staring at me a few times. He shoved the last bite in his mouth then grabbed my plate.
“Time for bed. Do you want to clean up first?” asked Easton.
“That would be nice,” I replied.
He picked up the peas and threw them back in the freezer before he helped me up. His strong hands supported the majority of my weight as I limped to the bathroom.
Easton pulled a key out of his pocket and unlocked my handcuffs.
“Take as much time as you need,” said Easton. “I’ll wait for you out here.”
I closed the door and sunk to the floor. Unshed tears welled up in my eyes and threatened to spring free.
Easton’s change in demeanor worried me. Why the sudden change? Shouldn’t he be pissed off that I tried to run away? Whoever had called him on the phone had made him really angry. Was it the person that cut me?
My body trembled as I picked myself up off the floor. I hobbled over to the shower and turned on the tap.
The enormity of the night’s events crashed down on me as the water stung my fresh cuts and bruises. As the water washed away many of the physical signs of my escape, my mental state worsened. That’s when the reality hit me like a ton of bricks. If I don’t escape soon… I’m going to die here.
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