Madison
I wake up stiff and sore, roll out of bed, and go into the bathroom. The woman looking back at me in the mirror seems sad and disappointed.
Wreckless.
Stupid.
I can’t stay here any longer. I have to get home to Eva. I need to spend the last of her remaining time by her side. She doesn’t deserve to die alone. She shouldn’t be scared or afraid. She should be comforted by someone: by me.
After a longing glance at the shower, I go back to the bedroom and sit in the bed. My stomach growls with hunger, but I don’t want to eat. Not after I pissed off Bronx so badly. What if he drugs my food? I did it to him, after all. Payback’s a bitch. Somehow, I don’t think he’s the vengeful type, but you never know.
The only thing to do right now is to wait for him to come back. Maybe he’ll kill me and actually put me out of my misery. Maybe he’ll let me live, but he won’t let me shower. That’ll be it’s own torture. I hate feeling like I’m wasting time sitting here, though, so I grab a random book from the bookshelf that looks somewhat interesting, and I lay on my side on the bed.
There’s a lot of room on the chain, but having my wrists bound in front of me is still uncomfortable and annoying. This position makes it bearable to do a little reading, though, so that’s what I do.
I read.
An hour goes by and then another. Soon I finish the book, but there’s still no sign of Bronx. Did he go off to do pack stuff today? Is he loitering around downstairs? Usually, we eat breakfast together and talk in the morning before he leaves. So far, it doesn’t seem like that’s going to happen.
When I place the book back on the shelf, I take a look at the other stories he has here. I’ve read quite a few over the last few days, along with my mother’s book. Nothing looks interesting, though, so I move back to the bed and sprawl out, closing my eyes.
Then I think of my parents.
I wonder if I’ll ever stop missing them. It’s been so many years, but I still think of them every day. I was just a kid when they died and I still miss them deeply. They weren’t the best of parents. We weren’t super close. We were poor and life was hard and I was a typical kid. I acted up and we fought a lot, but we all loved each other. Still, my heart hurts when I think about them.
How am I going to cope when I lose Eva?
We’re so much closer than I was to my birth parents. Losing her is going to be unbearable. I don’t want to cry about that now. I just want to close my eyes and think of her. I want to close my eyes and pretend that everything is going to be okay. I’ll find my way back to Eva.
I have to.
Suddenly, a shadow covers me, and I open my eyes. I didn’t even hear the wolf enter.
“Bronx.”
“Madison.”
“I want to take a shower.”
“That’s fine,” he says. “Are you hungry?”
“No.”
He shrugs and pulls a key from his pocket. He’s wearing pants again. Somehow, they don’t detract from his complete and utter beauty, which I kind of hate. He unhooks me and motions toward the bathroom.
“Go ahead. I’ll be here.”
“You’re just going to sit here while I shower?” He did this before, but things didn’t feel as tense or as awkward as they do now. Now, this is the guy who has seen me masturbate. I guarantee he knows I was thinking about him while I was doing it. Hell, judging by the way his eyes raked over me, we practically slept together.
“Yep.”
“I want privacy.”
“Not an option.”
Realizing it’s better to get to shower with him in the next room than not at all, I hurry over to the bathroom and pause in the doorway.
“Bronx?”
“Yes, Madison?”
“Are you…”
“Am I what?”
Are you ever going to let me go?
That’s what I want to know. Is he going to free me? Is he going to take me back to Storm Dawn? Or is he just holding me until he decides I really am a danger to him and the other wolves? I’m scared he’s going to kill me after all.
I’m not going to tell him that, though. I swallow hard. Instead of speaking, I just stand there awkwardly, waiting to see what he’ll say next.
“Just go take your shower, Madison.”
He turns away, as if he’s dismissing me, and my heart sinks. I feel worse than if I hadn’t asked at all. I go into the bathroom, close the door, and start the water. As the shower starts to warm up, I strip down and look at myself in the mirror once more.
Don’t cry.
Don’t cry.
Don’t cry.
Don’t let him hear you cry.
Maybe wolves can sense when you’re scared. Maybe they know when you’re weak, and maybe that’s the point. Is he trying to weaken me? Wear me down? Hurt me? I don’t know, and I don’t have time for that. Who knows how long he’s going to let me stay in here?
I climb into the shower, and as the water pours over me, I close my eyes and I try to forget.
*
When I emerge, he’s sitting on the bed. He turns and looks at me.
“Please don’t chain me up again,” I whisper. I don’t know if I can handle anymore of that. It’s not that the cuffs are particularly uncomfortable or anything like that, but having my freedom taken away feels wrong. I don’t like feeling restricted in this way. I suppose that’s the entire point. He basically owns me, so he can do whatever he wants with me.
Whatever.
I’m wrapped only in a towel. The clothes I arrived in were basically destroyed by the time I got here. Apparently, jeans only last so long when you’re traipsing through a dense, muddy forest. Bronx gave me sweatpants and a tank top to wear yesterday, but I’m not sure what I’m going to be wearing today. I feel a little strange not having my own clothes to wear.
Then again, everything about this entire ordeal feels strange.
There are parts of me that are springing to life: parts of me I didn’t know existed. I was never particularly interested in sex or dating, but when I’m around Bronx, it’s all I think about. He makes me feel so many different things. Most of them are good. Some of them are just confusing. Now, I look at him sitting on the bed, and I wonder what’s going to happen next.
Maybe I should drop my towel.
What would he do if I was suddenly just…naked? How would he react if I sauntered over to him and just straddled him? Would he kiss me? Would he touch me?
Or would Bronx throw me on the bed and fucking ravage me?
“Please stop,” he says with a groan.
“Excuse me? I just don’t want to be tied up again. I won’t run away, okay? You have nothing to worry about. I promise.” Fingers crossed, of course. I’m getting back to Eva: one way or another.
“Not that,” he says. “You. You’re just…are you always so…”
“What? What is it? Bitchy? Difficult? Crazy? Hard to get along with? Forgive me if I’m not always in a good mood when you insist on keeping me fucking chained to the bed!”
“Horny! Okay? Fuck, Madison, are you always this aroused?”
How the hell doesn’t he know that…oh shit. He’s a shifter. He’s a fucking shifter and human emotions have a certain…scent. He’s known this entire time how I’m reacting to him. He’s known and he hasn’t done anything to let me know! Fuck! A damn hint would have been nice.
But no.
He didn’t say anything.
And he’s right: I’ve been horny this whole fucking time.
Right now, though?
Right now I’m ready for the floor to open me up and swallow me whole because I’m completely humiliated that Bronx knows exactly how I’m feeling about him and there’s nothing I can do to hide that. He knows he makes me wet, makes me achy, and he doesn’t want me to feel this way.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper, and I high-tail it back into the bathroom and slam the door.