He doesn’t come back for two days.

I’m left alone in that cell with nothing to do but stare at the barren walls. At first, I think he’s just busy and maybe he’ll come back soon. Instead, there’s nothing, and soon the first day passes. My stomach is rumbling as I realize that he’s not coming to feed me.

The next day is the same. I hear nothing and see nothing, and no food comes. I begin to think that he forgot about me, or worse, he gave up on me. Maybe he doesn’t care about me anymore and I’m going to be left to rot in this cell.

I don’t want to die in some prison in Mexico. I never got to live at all, and now I’m starving to death alone away from everything I know.

My thoughts drift to the darkest parts of my life. I can’t help myself. I relive some of the worst beatings my father gave me. He used to call me trash, a pathetic loser, a bitch and a whore. He would lock me in my room and not let me leave for weeks at a time. All because I’d do some tiny, minor thing incorrectly and send him into a rage. My whole life was spent trying to avoid those rages.

He can’t touch me now, but that thought doesn’t comfort me. I may be far from his reach, but I’m still starving to death.

Where is Logan? Why isn’t he helping me? He said he wouldn’t hurt me, but I feel like I’m pretty hurt. He could at least give me something to eat. I have water from the spigot in the wall, but that’s not enough. I don’t know how long I can last without food. Probably a week or more, but I really don’t know.

The day drags on and I feel the darkness pushing in at the edges of my mind. I don’t know what to do. I wish I had just given Logan what he wanted two days ago, maybe I wouldn’t be in this mess. It’s not like he’s some hideous mutant. Far from it, actually. The man is gorgeous and clearly very strong.

I just can’t trust him. I want to keep some measure of self-respect, though clearly everything they’re doing here is meant to take that away from me. I went from one hell right into another, and I just need some small glimmer, some tiny ray of sunshine. I need a little hope to help me get through this.

Eventually night comes and I fall asleep. I don’t dream, or at least I don’t remember them. I wake up to the early morning light piercing through the small window at the top of my cell.

When I roll over, I open my eyes and see a tray. It’s sitting on the ground, full of food. I stare at it, trying to decide if I’m dreaming or not, but it’s real. I reach out tentatively and take a piece of bread.

“Good morning, pet.”

I look up, surprised. Logan is sitting against the far wall, a smile on his face.

I hold the toast and stare at him, not sure what to do. He’s watching me with that grin, and I don’t know what he wants. He’s so handsome, with tattoos snaking up his arms. He’s wearing a short sleeve black t-shirt and jeans. I can see a knife in a holster on his belt.

“Go ahead,” he says. “Eat.”

I take a bite of the toast, watching him, but before I know it I’ve wolfed down the whole thing. I sit up and grab the tray, eating my fill. The world feels clearer and better after I’ve finished eating, and I realize just how much of a toll the hunger was taking on me.

The whole time I eat, Logan watches me. He doesn’t say anything and doesn’t move. I don’t know what he’s doing, but I feel like he’s appraising me, like I’m some expensive furniture in a shop or something like that.

I don’t care, though. All I care about is getting something to eat. When I’m finished, I lean back against the wall and look back at him.

“How was that?” he asks me.

“Where have you been?”

He smiles and shrugs. “I’ve been around.”

“You were letting me starve.”

“No,” he says. “I wasn’t.”

“You didn’t feed me for two days. I’ve been ...alone.”

“I know,” he says. “I have something for you.” He stands up and opens the cell door. He walks outside and comes back in with a beautiful, thick blanket.

He hands it to me and I take it from him. It’s soft, so soft, and I can’t help but wrap it around my body. It gets so cold in my cell at night and the single blanket they gave me isn’t nearly enough.

He smiles and leaves again. This time he returns with an extra pillow, big and fluffy, plus three books. He hands me the pillow and places the books down on the floor.

“What is all this?” I ask him

“Comfort,” he says. “Food. Books. Whatever you want.”

I watch him, skeptical. He offered me all of this before, but I refused him. I don’t know why he’s bringing it to me now.

“I can give you pleasure,” he says. “A lot of pleasure. More than you’ve ever known in your life.” He stands over me and for a second, I feel a chill run down my spine.

“All I have to do is obey, right?” I ask him softly.

“That’s right.” He kneels down in front of me and reaches out. I don’t flinch away. I let him take my chin in his rough hand. I stare into his eyes, trying to hold back my anger and my desire in equal measures.

“What do you want?” I ask him.

“Strip.”

He says that single word and watches me. I let it sink in. He pulls his hand back and smiles.

“You want me to strip?” I ask him.

“That’s right. Stand up and take off your clothes for me.”

I watch him then slowly shake my head. I won’t do it. I won’t play his games. “No,” I say.

“Are you sure?” He stands up and sighs. “All you need to do is take off your clothes. Let me see your body. Let me see those hard pink nipples, your tight, wet little pussy. You’ll enjoy it as much as I do, I can tell.”

“No,” I say, and look away from him.

“Okay then,” he says. He steps toward me and I recoil, terrified he’s about to hit me, just like my father.

Instead, he gently takes the new blanket away from me. He throws it out into the hall. He takes the pillow and the books and he tosses those out, too. When he’s finished, he takes the scratchy thin blanket, too, and tosses that outside.

I’m left alone on my cot, knees pulled to my chest, and he looks at me from the doorway. “Give in, Riley,” he says. “It’ll get much better for you. I won’t hurt you, but I won’t reward your disobedience, either.”

I stare at him then look away. I won’t let him see me cry. I’m so angry I could scream, but I know that won’t get me anywhere.

He leaves and shuts the door. I hear the bolt lock into position.

Why didn’t I just strip? It wouldn’t have been hard. I had to do it before. But there’s something different about this. It’s the way he looks at me, like he truly wants me. Maybe it’s also that I want him too. He says he can see it already, but I don’t want to give it all to him. I want to hold onto whatever I can for as long as I can.

But I don’t know how much longer I can control it. It’s going to be cold tonight, and I’m going to miss that blanket.

I stretch out on the cot, thinking about Logan and what he could do to me if I do give in and take off my clothes.