“Yes, Little Bird.” I heard him let out a heavy sigh. “I’m going to hurt you.”
This time, I lifted my chin to look up at him before saying, “Why?”
“Because your pain feeds the beast inside me.”
The beast inside him? Was that why he was so cold all the time? Because he was trying to control something clawing at the back of his mind? Strangely I understood that. Some days it felt like all I did was fight off the thoughts rolling through my head.
“What happens when you can’t feed it?” I was genuinely curious.
Preston’s gray eyes trickled over my face. “You don’t want to find out.”
Why did that feel more like advice than a warning?
He dropped his hand and sighed. “Go have a shower while I clean up.”
I didn’t need to be told twice. I jumped up and scurried out of the cage. It didn’t matter that the bathroom had no door or that Preston might stay in here and watch. The distance was more than welcome. Still, I couldn’t stop thinking about what he said.
Why would he say it in that tone? Just because I drugged Chase didn’t mean anything. He was a bad person who needed to be taught a lesson. I didn’t need his advice. I didn’t want it.
I looked over at Preston as he picked up the bucket in the corner of the birdcage. “I’m nothing like you.”
He didn’t even look my way when he answered.
“The only difference between you and me, Marnie, is I accepted who I was a long time ago.”
There wasn’t much to the bathroom. Actually, it was annoyingly plain for someone of Preston’s status. Not that I expected a captive’s lavatory to be anything special, but I thought there’d be a little more to it. There was a toilet, a single sink, and a shower. No pictures or cupboards to stash things. Just the bare necessities and nothing more.
I’d settle for a soap dish or toilet paper holder. Something that I could use as a weapon. There wasn’t even a door or curtain around the shower. Just crisp with tiles with a drain in the middle of the floor.
Even the lightbulbs were gone, replaced by an LED strip circling the roof. I had to hand it to Preston. He nailed the locked-up-in-prison atmosphere.
There was always the possibility of using shampoo or body wash as a weapon. I wasn’t sure how that would work, but there had to be a way.
“I don’t hear any water running!”
My eyes peeked over my shoulder to where Preston was pulling the cushion out of my cage. The way he cleaned up like I was some kind of pet was degrading. Was this how animals felt? Did I just compare myself to a pet?
God, how far down the rabbit hole did I fall?
Preston lifted his head and shot me a look.
Yeah, yeah, I’m going.
Huffing out a sigh, I turned around and headed for the shower. Not because he told me to, but because I wanted to. After two days locked up with nothing but a bucket to use, a shower sounded like nirvana. Plus, I could finally wash his smell off me, which was the biggest bonus as far as I was concerned.
The spray was quite relaxing.
The situation was not.
Warm water cascaded down my back, massaging my tired muscles, which was counterproductive to the tension that wound through me whenever I turned around and saw the open doorway. Granted, Preston wasn’t currently watching me, but it wouldn’t take much. The shower was in clear view of the doorway. Most likely, it was a purposeful placement by him.
I was tempted to snatch the blanket I’d left draped over the sink and cover myself. Instead, I focused on the one thing I could control—getting clean.
‘Cleanliness is next to godliness.’
Once that rag started moving over my body, I couldn’t stop. My father’s voice played in my mind as I ferociously swiped over every inch of my skin.
‘Remove evil from your deeds, consecrate yourself, and be holy.’
