“Are you deaf? I said I need to pee,” she spits, her entire face straining with tension.
“Doesn’t sound like my problem.” I take another sip of whiskey as I plunge down into one of the brown armchairs that seem more for comfort than style. Everything in this place seems that way.
It’s a far cry from the luxury I’m used to back at the Ricci mansion I usually call home. Our servants’ quarters are more equipped than this sad excuse of a home. It’s so…basic.
But it will have to do, for now at least.
At least it’s clean.
“I can’t hold it anymore.” Her voice is growing desperate, much to my amusement.
“Then don’t.”
The horror spreads on her face as she realizes I’m serious.
“You animal. Untie me!” Her measured tone is a thing of the past now.
“If you’re just going to complain, I’ll put the gag back in. Do you want that?” I ask, waving my finger at her like she’s a naughty child.
She doesn’t answer, just glares at me.
“Please,” Kiah tries again, softer this time.
“You’re pretty when you beg,” I tell her, pushing myself out of my seat again to hover over her. “But it won’t work.”
“Here, let me start you off.” Tipping the bottle, I pour the remaining whiskey onto her crotch, watching as the liquid spreads over her grey linen pants like she’s already wet herself.
She gasps loudly.
I wonder if it burns.
I hope so.
But at least it keeps her quiet.
She doesn’t bring up needing to pee again.
Whether she pisses herself or not, who knows.
I’m not interested.
It doesn’t help me fix my current predicament.
Cracking my knuckles as I speak, I stare out into the darkness beyond the window that keeps rattling in the wind. It’s irritating me. “Tomorrow, you’re going to help me get the fuck out of here. Ideally, to Mexico for now.”
I have to keep moving. Sooner or later, they’ll find me here. This was supposed to be the first stop only, just for the night.
“You can’t,” Kiah says simply.
“Wrong answer. Try again.”
The innkeeper sighs. “Trust me, I would love you gone. But nobody is getting in or out until that storm passes.”
“You better not be lying; I don’t tolerate lies.” There are enough lies in the world. Few things make my blood boil like people who aren’t truthful.
“I’m not lying.”
“Call someone.”
