Chapter Eight

My room?

My confusion amplifies when he pushes open the door to a room that is much too extravagant for a prisoner.

“Are you serious?” I question because it doesn’t feel real. It feels like a joke. Something to dangle in front of me, something to give me a little faith that things will turn out okay, only to be used against me later. I’m reluctant to take it.

Jay scoffs and shoves me forward. He doesn’t want me to indulge in gratitude so instead, he moves silently into the room to a door that’s attached to the right wall.

Must be the bathroom.

“I get a bathroom?”

Jay stops in the doorway of the bathroom and shoots daggers at me.

“If you abuse any of this--” He snaps, his jaw tensing. “If you fucking try anything suspicious you can kiss it all the fuck goodbye. Consider any favors done. Understand?” He arches a brow waiting for my response and I slowly nod.

Just to have a bathroom near me, I think I might behave.

I walk towards him to get a glimpse of the bathroom as my body begins to remember how badly I have to pee.

“Can I use it without you breathing down my neck?” I press quickly, while slipping by him. He grabs my arm, yanking me toward him, causing me to spin around into his chest. I reach up, steadying myself by gripping his shoulders, panting anxiously.

“What?” I say, with wide eyes. He eyes my mouth wordlessly for a moment, his eyes narrowed into slits. I deliberately flick my tongue along my bottom lip as I wait for him to speak and he takes a deep breath in response.

“You just fucking love testing my patience, don’t you?” He snarls.

I just can’t stand him… But really, it’s more about not being able to pee with an audience.

“Don’t flatter yourself. I can’t pee with an audience is all,” I admit.

He arches a curious brow and a grin tugs the corner of his mouth upward before he releases my arm and takes a step back.

“Is that funny?” The smug look on his face has me livid. I always feel like he’s plotting.

“Don’t fuckign worry about it,” He spits, before spinning around and stalking out of the bathroom, closing the door behind himself. I let out a gasp of relief when he’s gone and relieve myself.

A bathroom! I actually have a bathroom. Oh god. I’m getting worked up by an upgrade in prison cells. I truly am a fucked up human being.

After a minute, even when I’m finished, I remain seated and just enjoy the silence in a place that isn’t utter filth. I can’t enjoy it for too long. Jay slams his fist on the door.

“If you’re not done in ten seconds, I’m fucking coming in,” He growls from behind the door. Huffing angrily, I stand, serenity gone. He opens the door before I get to it. “Sit on the toilet!” He gestures with a head not to the toilet and I nod, moving back towards it.

I’m just incredibly surprised about this.

“How did I get this room?” I ask curiously. He moves to the sink and grabs out a first aid kit from beneath it. He ignores me and it’s frustrating to the point I’m bouncing my leg.

This isn’t some pre-execution luxury is it?

The thought makes my heart begin to race.

“Jay--”

I call him as I sit down. His intense gaze bores into mine but he remains silent.

“Now you’re just trying to torture me!” I yell and he licks his lips. Amusement gleams in his eyes as he looms above me.

“Torture? You think my silence is torture?” He says mockingly.

“You make it sound so… intimate. I just don’t like to be ignored,” I reply while crossing my arms over my chest. He clicks his tongue.

“It is intimate. Too intimate for my fucking taste. If I don’t want to speak, I won’t.”

I sigh and watch as he removes the bandage that’s currently wrapped around my distorted looking pinky now that the tip of it is missing. Nausea follows after he’s removed the bandage and the stinging sensation of air hitting the wound makes me wince.

I think I’m going to be sick.

“Oh god!” I groan as I use my other hand - the uninjured one - to cover my mouth. Jay focuses on cleaning the wound and redressing it with fresh supplies, ignoring my blatant discomfort.

I can’t believe he really did this to me.

When he’s finished and I think I’m in the clear, I stand and open my mouth and vomit rises up my throat before it’s expelled all over his shirt. Oh no… I just puked on him.

“I - I …” I trail off, unable to form words to make this moment better. The rancid taste of the contents of my stomach remain on my tongue. He swallows, anger etched on his face. His jaw is clenched tight enough to break.

“I’m sorry. I am so sorry,” I apologize, but I know it won’t help. This is a nightmare.

He doesn’t say a word. He lets me stew with fear as he peels his shirt off. He eyes my shower before he removes cuffs from his pocket again and roughly grabs my wrist.


“What are you doing?” I question nervously as he yanks me from the toilet and shoves me so I fall beside the sink. “Jay, what are you doing? I was an accident.”

He opens the cabinets under the sink and cuffs my wrists to it in such an uncomfortable position, I know he’s punishing me for making a mess.

“Ow. This hurts,” I whine.

“Good!” He snarls before he begins to peel off his pants.

“What are you doing?”

Is he going to fuck me? I don’t want to know what that’s life if it is a punishment. I have flashes of when Will used to force himself on me and I shiver as tears begin to sting my eyes. The creepy, disgusted feeling of being taken advantage of beings to creep up my spine. I shiver from the presence of that feeling.

“I swear, it’s like you were created to annoy me,” He grumbles before he shoves his pants down his powerful thighs. I try to look away but it is harder than it seems as my eyes keep moving back to his legs as he steps out of his jeans.

He’s literally stripping…

When he hooks his fingers in his boxers, I swallow nervously. He makes sure to make eye contact with me when he shoves them down his legs before you roam the contours of the thickest shaft you’ve ever seen.

Will is a shrimp compared to him.

I don’t even realize I’m clenching my thighs closed until Jay’s eyes move to them and he snickers humored. I don’t know if I’m closing my thighs out of fear of his size or fear of what’s to come.

“Please don’t--”

“Don’t what?” He interrupts while stepping forward, leaning to grab my chin in his hand as he places a foot on my thighs to keep me from kicking.

“F-force yourself on me,” I continue, stammering fearfully. He scoffs before releasing my face and stepping back.

“Why would I do that when you’re eager to fuck me to get back at your husband? I won’t need to force myself on you, you’ll spread your legs willingly. Now shut up so I can fucking shower and get your vomit off me.”

He steps over the pile of vomit and moves to the shower where he turns on the showerhead and waits a few seconds before stepping beneath the water.

Water that is probably cold. That psychopath.

I wish I could wash away the bile taste out of my mouth but I’m forced to remain next to the sink. It feels like he showers forever. Finally, when he’s finished and he steps out of the shower all dripping, wet muscle, my eyes bulge for a second.

He could’ve used his shower…

“You could use your own shower. Why didn’t you?” I question out of genuine curiosity. He swipes a towel that’s hanging on the rack and runs it over his face to dry it before he begins wrapping it around his waist.

“What’s wrong, Akira? If you wanted to take a shower with me, you could’ve just said,” He quips knowing full well it’ll piss me off.

“Does this look like the face of a woman who wants to shower with you?” I snap, while shooting him a glare and he chuckles as he tilts his head.

“It’s funny because you act all serious and angry until I get my tongue on your pussy and then you’re noisily compliant.”

“Fuck you!”

“See? I told you I didn’t have to force myself on you,” He replies.

“You’re an ass.”

He finishes wrapping the towel around himself before he steps over his clothes and heads into my bedroom leaving me here. The stench of steam and vomit assault my nostrils. When I hear my bedroom door slam, I panic.

“Jay! Uncuff me!” I call to him but I’m pretty sure he’s no longer in my room. “Shit!”

One shitty situation to another.

I rest my head against my arm which is screaming from the angle I’m in but there’s not much I can do.

Will is probably asleep in a soft presidential suite bed with armed security around and I’m stuck here, paying for his crimes. I don’t think I will ever get over that. Ever.

He returns when I’ve lost feeling in one arm and I’ve started to fall asleep. He rouses me from my slumber by nudging my leg with his foot. I startle awake as he bends and undoes my cuffs. He nods to the vomit that still remains on the floor.

“Clean it up, now,” He says.

“I’m too tired.”

He laughs. Actually laughs at that and kneels beside me.

“Does this look like the face of someone who gives a fuck?”

I scowl at him petulantly.

“A little bit of humanity… Would it kill you?” I say. He licks his lips and stands, pointing at the mess.

“Clean it the fuck up!”

“You’re mean,” I whisper, and it sounds so childish but I’m exhausted.

“Stop fucking whining before I muzzle you.” He warns. I spot some paper towels and disinfectant spray and begin cleaning. I’m not sure when I will push him over the edge, not that he can harm me unless Dominico says, but I don’t want to see if he has a breaking point that makes him disregard Dominico’s leadership. I guess I’m just sick of abusive men. Sick of being helpless because of them.

After I manage to clean it up, I leave the bathroom and find him gone. Of course he’s disappeared again. I move to the door, testing the knob, frowning when I realize it’s locked from the outside. I shouldn’t be surprised.

I climb into bed, sighing now that I’m not sleeping on a floor, shackled. There’s literally nothing I can do but wait. I’m a sitting duck. How long will it take for Will to reply? I drift off to sleep because it’s the only thing I can think of that will rid me of my rising anxiety.

Jay is in my dreams: brooding and muscular. Even in sleep I can’t escape him.