“Willow, you can’t do this to yourself.”
“Why not, Jenny? If it wasn’t for me being born, Mom would have never gotten sick and dad would have never wanted to be at work all the time. If Mom didn’t do what she did, we would be a happy family.”
“Life is like that Willow, you can’t change how things are. I could just as much blame myself as you, but I don’t.”
“You did nothing.”
“I’m a result of an affair…you think that didn’t contribute to Mom’s craziness?”
“Mom was crazy before your dad.”
“Willow, if you keep hurting yourself, one day there will be no coming back.”
“Maybe that’s what I want.”
She frowns and takes my hand. “It’s not what you want, you’re in a dark place but it will get better…”
“Get outta there!” Jagger yells, snapping me out of my thoughts.
It’s day eight and I’m in the bathroom, soaking in the soapless tub and refusing to acknowledge him. I smell so bad, I haven’t had soap since I’ve been here and I’m hoping the bath will soak some dirt out of my skin. It’s certainly not relaxing in any sense; in fact, it makes me feel a little ill. Jagger kicks the door a few times, and I sigh and get out of the bath. I wrap myself in a towel and walk over, opening it.
His eyes widen and his gaze drops down to my wet skin. Did Jagger just check me out? Did my kidnapper have a peek? Seriously? Why is my heart fluttering at that thought? I must be crazy. It’s in my nature after all. I clear my throat and Jagger looks up to meet my glare. He smirks and leans against the door.
“Tryin’ to get the smell out?”
“Fuck off.”
His eyes widen and he loses the smirk. “You’re cooking for me tonight, it’s about time you started earning your keep.”
“Earning my keep? Excuse me but I hardly made the decision to be here.”
“Well, while you are you can make yourself useful.”
“Aren’t you scared I might stab you?”
He throws his head back and laughs. “Try your hardest, you’ll get five meters down the road and those men will be onto you.”
“Whatever,” I mutter.
“Hurry up and get dressed.”
I turn and slam the door in his face, then quickly pull on my clothes. When I get out into the kitchen, he’s sitting at a bar stool reading. Seriously? What’s wrong with this picture? He’s sitting like we’re a couple and this is completely normal. Anyone who walked in this house right now wouldn’t see the real picture; they would just assume I was cooking for my boyfriend. How wrong they would be.
I open the fridge and pull out some chicken, luckily for him I can cook. I pull out mushrooms and tomato paste. I slam them down onto the bench and Jagger raises his eyes from the paper he’s reading to glare at me. I give him a sarcastic smile and continue preparing my tomato chicken with mushrooms. He sits on that damn chair watching me, and I can feel his gaze burning into me.
“Smells good,”
I turn and stare at him, shocked. “Thanks.”
“Do you cook all the time?”
I shrug. “Mostly I do it because I want to, not because I’m forced to.”
He snorts, “Touché.”
“So, tell me, do you make a habit of kidnapping girls?”
I look up at him as I’m slicing the chicken. His eyes actually fall on the knife and I’m sure he swallows. Uh oh, maybe he’s re-thinking this move.
“No, you’re the first.”
“Well, don’t I feel honored?”
“It could be worse…”
“Tell me how?” I snap.
“I could have raped you, let my gang rape you, beat you, starved you…”
“Alright, I get the point.”
“I didn’t take you to hurt you.”
“You say you didn’t intend on hurting me, but you already have!”
He frowns. “I haven’t laid a damn hand on you.”
“You starved me…your friend hurt me…you won’t let me shower…”
“Ok!” He snaps, throwing his hands up. “I didn’t intend on being such a prick. Understand this though, my life is deadly and I do what I have to.”
“Oh believe me; I know your life is deadly.”
“Then why do you defy me so often?”
“Is that what you want?” I say, putting the knife down. “You want me to fear you? Believe me, I do. I’m quite sure I know what you’re capable of and I don’t like it. I’m staying strong for myself, it isn’t to challenge you. I want to come out the other side of this with my sanity.”
He stares at me for long moments and my cheeks heat under his gaze.
“How old are you?”
“Excuse me?”
“I said how old are you?”
“Twenty Two,”
“Anyone waiting back home for you?”
My cheeks heat again. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, when you get out of here, will I have a stupid man show up and try to gut me…”
I snort. “If there was, I wouldn’t send him your way. Even I’m not that stupid.”
He grins. “You’re learning, but you didn’t answer my question.”
“No, Jagger, there isn’t anyone. There was but…it ended.”
He nods.
“Are you finished with the small talk now?”
He smirks and I look away. This man has split personalities, I’m damn sure of it. I finish up the food and shove a plate towards him. He looks down at it, then back up at me. “This looks…better than I expected.”
“Well, I’m a good cook.”
He nods, and takes a spoonful. Did he just….moan? Oh God, I need to get out of here. Like now.
“I should go back to my room and die slowly, while you enjoy the food.”
“Sit with me.”
I stare at him with a no doubt horribly confused expression on my face. “Why the hell would I want to sit with you?”
“Eat with me or go to your room and starve,” he shrugs.
It’s a simple statement to him, but it’s a lot to me. I’ve felt that gripping hunger and I don’t want to feel it again. I get a plate and sit down, nibbling on a piece of chicken.
“What happened with your ex-boyfriend?”
I choke on the piece of chicken I was swallowing and stare up at him. “What is it to you?”
“Willow, it’s simple; talk with me or go back to the room and talk to the wall. I don’t give a shit either way, the choice is yours.”
God he can be a pig, but I would rather stay out here a touch longer.
“He beat me.”
He drops his fork and I dare to peek up at him through my lashes. His face is wild and his blue eyes are wide and angry.
“He what?”
“You heard me,”
“How badly?”
“Bad enough, I was in hospital for three days.”
“Fuckin’ bastard,”
“Like you can talk…” I mumble.
“I would never EVER beat a woman I loved.”
“No, but you’d take a woman from her home and her life, to fulfill your own needs. It’s no better, Jagger.”
He’s silent a moment, and his eyes are focused intently on mine. “It might be no better, but I would NEVER lay a hand on you Willow.”
“You haven’t exactly been nice about the whole situation…”
“It could be worse.”
He’s right, it could be.
“Whatever.”
I finish my food, and pick up the plates and take them to the sink. I stare down at the knife, wondering if I could ever gain his trust enough to get hold of that and stab him with it. The thought of stabbing him hurts me though, and I hate that. A brief thought of stabbing myself flashes through my mind, and I quickly shove it back down. I can’t be that weak again. Not ever.
“I gotta go out, so back to your room.” Jagger says from behind me.
I turn and walk off without acknowledging him. I walk into my room and sit at the desk. He walks in behind me and stands at the door, not saying anything for a long moment.
“I know you hate this situation, and I’m sorry you had to be put in the middle of it, but I can’t change what has to be. Thank you…for dinner.”
Then he’s gone again and I’m left feeling more confused than ever.