He shrugs, fake-casual. Too fake.
“There. Lying again,” I hiss. “You’re acoward.”
My own words stun me. My lips part like I want to take it back… but I don’t.
“A coward?” he repeats, voice deep and menacing.
His stare pins me in place, so wild, dangerous, and beautiful. But I nod. Because I mean it. And the dog collar remote is across the room. Not in his hand.
Just then, I’m yanked upward, his grip iron-tight. My arms stretch above my head. Cold metal clamps shut. I’m hooked to the wall. Standing. Vulnerable.
“Grayson!” I cry out, squirming.
“Sleep like that,” he growls.
“I can’t!” I sob. “Please!”
His eyes blaze as he mutters, more to himself than me. “Coward? Ungrateful little—”
“You’re punishing yourself,” I yip. But I purse my lips tight, unsure if I just said that. I did. Hell with it! “I know you want me in bed with you!”
He turns, eyes burning, causing me to freeze in fear. “What I want,” he says through gritted teeth, “is to hurt you. And I should. Because you’re—”
“What, Grayson?” I scream. “What am I!”
His breath catches. He wavers. Then, he spins and storms out, slamming the door behind him.
I’m left staring, heart thundering, shoulders burning.
What the actual hell just happened?
Talk about having too many emotions and not enough words. Not that he’d admit it.
I glance at my toes and—
Oh my gosh… on the floor, within reach, his pants.
My foot stretches, big toe curling into the belt loop. I grip the chain above my cuffs, and with all my strength, I raise my feet to my hands. I can only manage to lift my weight for a moment, just long enough to grab the pants.
Blindly, I dig through the pockets. My fingers brush paper, receipts…
Wallet.
Cards tumble out, smacking my forehead before scattering across the floor. I dig deeper.
Metal.
The key.
I hold it between two fingers like it’s holy. My hands shake as I guide it to the lock, careful, like a surgeon cutting into flesh.
Clink.
First cuff falls.
Click.
Second.