Evil Izzy came out—enraged and eager to fight. I struck him several times with the lamp, getting him good on the forearm before he slapped me hard. Pain didn’t exist. That word had been erased from my dictionary when I glanced at the television and saw Jericho pacing like a caged animal.
Hawk punched me in the gut, and I crumpled to the floor. The force of the fall caused the handcuff to bite into my already mangled wrist. Hawk shoved the table next to the dresser and out of reach.
“No more weapons for you, Miss… What the fuck is this?” he exclaimed, lifting the telephone cord.
He ripped it out from beneath the bed and then from the wall.
“You little cunt!”
Then he beat me on my back with the cradle.
***
Days had elapsed, maybe a week. Time had eloped with the outside world and abandoned me to solitude. Hawk had reduced my meals to once a day after I kicked him in the groin.
Twice.
He didn’t restrict me from bathroom visits, but showers were out of the question. My knees finally scabbed over, my wrists were a gruesome sight, and I no longer looked like Isabelle Monroe. Hawk had made me into an undesirable woman. My hair was unwashed and tangled, my face pale and bruised, my stomach flattening more than I would have liked. But what I looked like on the outside was not a reflection of the strength that burned within—a fire I kept tempered until the time was right. Shifters found courage to be more admirable than physical beauty, and that’s one trait I had in the bag.
My back was still sore from when he’d hit me with the phone. Hawk hadn’t raged since that night and remained his usual, poised self. Maybe the most disturbing aspect about it was how detached he’d become.
I had no choice but to cage my wolf. A skilled Shifter could switch to their animal form and slip out of things like jewelry and clothes, but it wasn’t uncommon to get tangled up in them. Shackles, chains, ropes, and handcuffs—these were uncertainties for me, and because they restricted my movement, I didn’t want to take the chance. If I didn’t do it right, I could end up breaking her legs, and I was not a woman easily broken.
I wanted to be that sassy little redhead at the bar who made the toughest of men bashful when I handed them a beer with a beguiling wink. I wanted to sit on a beach at night and bury my feet in the cool sand, listening to angry waves crashing against the shore. I wanted to travel to South America and taste the flavorful dishes I’d heard about from acquaintances. I wanted to find a mate someday who would be able to love me, even after all this.
Maybe he’d be the kind of man who’d never give up on me. I’d never been more certain of wanting children as I was during my captivity. The mess of my own childhood became irrelevant; I just wanted to hold a baby in my arms so I could always protect and love him.
I wanted to live.
So my behavior became robotic, and it kept Hawk manageable. He subjected me to Jericho’s video, leaving it on day and night. On one occasion, Hawk had snuck into the room and left behind a pail of water and a clean towel. Jericho was slow on his reflexes and didn’t have time to react before the door swung shut. He might have seemed laid-back to most people, but Jericho possessed an intelligent, cunning mind. He had survival skills. He didn’t waste the water, but dipped half the towel in there and used it to wash off while saving the rest for drinking.
I looked up at the television and watched him wrapping the towel around his waist. He didn’t know I was on the other end watching him, because every so often, he’d hold his middle finger up to the lens.
It made me laugh every time.
I even talked to him. Whenever he’d settle down, I’d pretend we were sitting next to each other, bantering about old times. I began forming a relationship with a ghost on the screen.
Hawk opened the door and surprised me with a steak. “Last meal,” he said. “Looks like I found a buyer. Sorry things didn’t work out between us, Iz. But you can’t say I didn’t give you a chance. I’m making a run to the store for some protein shakes, and you’re going to shift and heal up some of those marks. I don’t think the buyer will care much, but I’d rather not hand over a mess or else he might change his mind on the price. I want to fatten you up, so eat every bite before you shift.”
The door slammed, and my mouth watered looking at the steak. But what really caught my attention was his stupidity gleaming back at me.
Hawk had finally slipped up and made a fatal mistake: he left me a weapon.
I ate every bite of that overcooked steak and baked potato to stave off my hunger and give me strength. Then I covered the plate and fork with the napkin and concealed my steak knife under the pillow.
“Hawk?” I yelled his name a little louder a second time. He liked to play mind games, so I couldn’t be sure if he’d really gone to the store.
I screamed his name at the top of my lungs and gasped when I saw Jericho stand up. He cautiously approached the door and pressed his ear against it.