Part 4 (1/2)

He shrugs and moves to the side. I spot movement over his shoulder. Glancing around him, I find Jude standing in the doorway, bracing his hands on either side of the wooden frame above his head. His hands are gripping the frame so tightly that his biceps strain from the effort. The position makes his t-s.h.i.+rt lift slightly, revealing a strip of tanned skin above the waist of his jeans. I can see the deep-cut V-lines dipping into his jeans.

I tear my gaze away from his body and up to his face, which is set in a mask of cold indifference as he watches me watching him.

”I think you meant to say that you were gonna eat,” he says, his voice low and deep, rumbling over my senses and making my skin break out in goose b.u.mps. His presence sends a shot of adrenaline through my veins as my instincts tell me to run, but there is nowhere to run.

”I'm not hungry,” I say quietly. I feel like there's a bomb in the room and it's about to go off at any minute. That bomb would be Jude. He has that scary calm thing going on, and it's more terrifying than any shouting.

Jude laughs. His arms slip down the doorframe as he bows his head. Shaking it, he glances back up at me, his eyes narrowing as one corner of his full lips quirk up. ”Wrong f.u.c.king answer!”

Oh, s.h.i.+t. I start backing up before he's even moved from the doorway.

He steps forward, quickly closing the s.p.a.ce between us as his eyes lock with mine.

”I didn't ask if you were hungry.” He steps closer to me, until I can feel the heat of his body towering over me. ”Let me clarify for you. You.” Another large step, and I edge backwards. ”Are gonna.” Then another. ”Eat!” He dips his head to meet my eyes. ”Aren't you?” I watch as he reaches back to Caleb's plate and picks up the sandwich.

”You can't make me eat.” I stare him down, squaring my shoulders in an attempt to make my five-foot-four frame look bigger in the wake of his ma.s.sive presence.

A slow laugh rumbles from his throat. ”I can make you do anything I f.u.c.king want.”

He keeps walking toward me, and I keep backing up until I'm against a wall. This seems to be a common theme-him stalking me until I'm against a wall.

”Jude,” I warn, but it comes out as more of a plea.

”Woman, eat the d.a.m.n sandwich before I shove it down your f.u.c.king throat.” He holds it up in front of my face.

He wouldn't. I recoil even more, until I'm flat packed against the wall. ”f.u.c.k-”

He cuts me off by cramming the sandwich inside my mouth. Actually forces it in! Motherf.u.c.ker!

”f.u.c.king chew and swallow,” he says.

Could he be a bigger a.r.s.ehole if he tried?

I chew only because I'm afraid if I don't he'll actually force my mouth open and close himself, but I make sure to scowl at him the entire time.

He turns back to Caleb. ”How long has it been since she's eaten?”

Caleb shrugs. ”She hasn't eaten anything since she's been with me.”

Jude let out a low growl. ”I told you to f.u.c.king watch her!”

”Which I did...what do you want me to do? I'm not gonna force her to eat.” He shrugs and leans against the far wall.

”G.o.d, you're a f.u.c.king idiot,” he grumbles, before turning back to me. He leans closer to me until I can feel the heat of his body, his breath on my cheek. His hand winds around the back of my neck, holding me in place. He's so close, his presence blocking out everything. I automatically surrender under his touch as my breath seizes in my chest.

”Don't make me have to deal with you myself, Victoria.” The way he says my name makes something inside of me tighten. What the h.e.l.l is wrong with me? His thumb brushes over my throat. ”I'd really hate to mark that pretty skin of yours again.” His voice is guttural and harsh, but his touch is gentle. My heart hammers against my ribs like a rabid animal. What the h.e.l.l is he doing to me? I'm scared of him, but part of me doesn't want him to take his hand off me. His touch is warm and, dare I say, comforting?

Oh, my G.o.d. I think I'm having some kind of psychological break! Maybe being locked in this room has made me delusional. I frown and wrench my face away from his touch. He huffs a small laugh, clearly entertained by my warped state of mind.

He turns away from me and walks to the door. He grabs the handle, then turns to his brother and takes his index finger, pressing it to the middle of Caleb's forehead. ”f.u.c.king watch her and if you have to tie her the f.u.c.k down, chew up the f.u.c.king food like a mother bird, and spit it in her f.u.c.king mouth, make her eat!”

”You are a f.u.c.king psycho!” I snap, narrowing my eyes at him.

His head snaps back around. ”You have no idea, little girl.”

Pointing at Caleb one last time, he s.n.a.t.c.hes open the door. ”Don't f.u.c.k around.” Then he turns away from me, leaving the room. The door slams shut, making the picture on the wall rattle. I hear the lock click with finality.

I eat half of the stupid sandwich, because the last thing I want is Mr. Personality coming back in here. I sit on the bed with my back to the headboard, and my elbows propped on my knees.

”I did try to warn you,” Caleb says, lounging on the bed next to me.

”I know,” I say quietly. My hands are shaking, and I can feel my eyes welling with tears. For f.u.c.k's sake. The hopelessness of the situation is finally dawning on me. I know too much. Whatever happens, they aren't just going to let me walk out of here knowing all that I know about their criminal enterprise.

”I'm never getting out of here, am I?” I say. ”He's going to kill me.”

”No, he won't kill you.” He shakes his head adamantly.

Several tears slip down my cheek and I lean forward, resting my forehead on my knees in an attempt to hide my face. I don't do crying. Crying solves nothing.

”Ah, s.h.i.+t,” he groans, and I feel his arm wind around my shoulders as he pulls me into his side. He doesn't say anything, he just sits with me.

”I thought you were cool,” I sniff, trying to change the subject and rein in my pathetic tears. ”You sold me out.”

He rolls his eyes. ”Don't give me that s.h.i.+t. You've gotta eat, you know?”

”So you told Mr. f.u.c.king Understanding?” I pull out of his hold a little.

I like Caleb, and, weirdly, I trust him, but I can't afford to get attached to him. He may be the friendly face of the operation, but he is still keeping me as a hostage.

He shrugs. ”If you get sick, it's my a.s.s he'll be kicking.”

”Okay. I'm going to make a deal with you,” I say.

He narrows his eyes. ”Oh, uh-uh. No, no deals.”

”But you don't even know what the deal is.”

He c.o.c.ks an eyebrow. ”I don't need to make a deal with you, you're a hostage. I should be the one offering you options, not the other way around.”

”Gee, thanks for pointing that out to me. As if I didn't already know,” I grumble.

We sit silently for a few moments, then I hear him sigh, followed shortly by a groan. ”What deal?”

”If you need me to do anything, just ask me. I would do anything, anything, to avoid having to deal with him.”

”He scares you, huh?” His brown eyes study mine.

I nod. ”Yeah.”

”Okay, but, just so you know, we don't deal with women. We don't take hostages, so none of us really know how to handle this. This is not like him. He's normally more...tolerant with women,” he explains. ”I'll try and keep him away from you.”