Her words and her life triggered something I’d locked deep inside me, and I was quick to force it back before it could overwhelm me, like I knew it so easily would . . .
Not the same, I told myself.
“Why do you want to . . . to keep someone locked in a room whose life and body mean nothing to you? Because they mean something to me.”
Her broken voice floated through my mind, making me want to tear at my heart all over again.
A dozen responses to her question had crossed my mind then, and were flooding it now. If I voiced any of them, it would be dangerous on too many levels.
I went back to the desk and scrolled up until her smiling face was on my screen, and let out a heavy sigh as I stared at the girl I would never deserve.
Coward.
I was a goddamn coward.
I hadn’t even looked in Briar’s direction when I’d put her plate of food inside the doorway for lunch or dinner the day before. And though I doubted she noticed since she was usually facing away from me when I entered, I still knew.
I knew everything I wished I didn’t.
If I would’ve seen her face—the broken way she looked at me—I would have said things that couldn’t be voiced. Would’ve apologized for things I couldn’t be sorry for.
And despite my need for more time away from that face and those shattered eyes . . . I couldn’t take it.
I stepped in that next morning with her breakfast in one hand and a chair dragging from the other and immediately her singing halted. Her body visibly tensed as she took slow, calculated breaths before looking over her shoulder at me.
The hatred that poured from her hit me hard enough that a weaker man would’ve stumbled. Instead, I let that calm wash through me until I felt nothing. I needed to feel nothing if I was going to get her through this.
If she was surprised that I was coming toward her, she didn’t show it.
If she wanted to hide her fear, she needed to work harder.
“Blackbird,” I murmured gruffly, set the plate on the edge of the bed, then stepped back and positioned the chair so I would be within reaching distance of her. Once I was settled in it, I dipped my head toward the food, and said, “You might as well eat, because I’m obviously not leaving yet.”
She held my stare with narrowed, hate-filled eyes for a few seconds as her shoulders lightly shook before finally turning around and taking a bite of her food.
“We need to work on your progress,” I said once she’d taken a few bites.
Her hand halted on the way back to her mouth, and her eyes widened. “My progress. What progress?”
I relaxed into the chair and folded my arms across my chest. My eyes dipped over her robe-covered body in silent answer before I said, “We need to get you out of this room.”
It was immediate, the hunger that replaced the confusion, and then the fear and revulsion that replaced that hunger. She wanted out of the room just as badly as I needed her out of it, but she wasn’t ready. I knew she wasn’t, but I needed to push her or she never would be, and never wasn’t an option. There was an expected timeline she had to follow, and I couldn’t afford for time to run out with her still in this room.
The hand that wasn’t holding a piece of fruit slowly moved up to grasp at where the robe covered her chest, as if to make sure nothing could be seen. The shaking of her shoulders gradually grew stronger and stronger until her entire body was trembling.
“I can have a conversation with you and not scream for help or try to run,” she said on a breath. “Can’t that be enough?”
My head tilted, and my voice hinted at the driest amusement when I asked, “Do I really need to tell you that that isn’t how this works?”
But she didn’t respond, and she didn’t move. She sat there shivering with her hand still clasping the robe together and that piece of melon still suspended in air.
“Why are you shaking, Blackbird?”
A harsh, mocking laugh burst from her chest. But again . . . nothing.
“Briar,” I said in a low murmur, and waited until her frightened eyes snapped up to meet mine. “It’s just a question. I’m sitting in a chair and you could be eating breakfast. So why exactly are you shaking right now?”
The melon slipped from her fingers and fell to the plate as a stunned breath filled the space between us, and her small frame jerked with a full-body shiver. “Because of w-who you are and what you’ve done.”
“What have I done?”
She looked at me incredulously, and tried to voice the words again and again before they finally came out. “The other night I thought you were going to rape me, and you said you woul—”
“I’m not going to hurt you,” I said, and my voice swam with honesty.
“Right now? Or today? Or does that include tomorrow too?” she asked as her voice cracked and tears filled those broken eyes.
I bit back my initial response and instead echoed, “I’m not going to hurt you. But we need to get you out of this room.” I shifted forward, and watched every movement of her body as I rested my arms on my knees and clasped my hands together.
Her chest hitched and her body jerked, but she didn’t move away from me.
“Now, tell me why you’re still shaking.”
“Because I can’t do this,” she said immediately, her voice weak. “I can’t do what you want me to.” I opened my mouth to speak, but she asked, “Is this a lesson?”
Her question slammed into me and made me lose my hold on that calm as everything I shouldn’t feel assaulted me again and again . . . The way those broken eyes made me want to beg her to forgive me. The way her screams made me want to tear out my heart.
Within seconds my calm was back and filling me, and I let my lips slowly curve into a wicked grin. “You’ll know when I’m teaching you a lesson.” Once her hatred from my statement had dulled, I nodded toward the plate again. “Eat.”
Only seconds had passed before she picked at the fruit she’d been eating, and after she’d taken a few bites, I slowly reached forward.
She stilled as my hand neared the robe just above her breasts, and her chest’s movements became exaggerated when I slipped my hand inside to slowly drag the material off one of her shoulders.
When I looked up, fear-filled eyes were watching my every move before darting up to my face when I withdrew my hand. As soon as my hands were clasped again, I mumbled, “Eat.”
A full minute came and went before she shakily resumed, and as before, I slowly reached forward after she’d finished taking a few bites.
Her breath rushed out when I grasped the other side of her robe. “Please, d-d—” she said breathlessly but didn’t continue.
My eyes darted up to hers once her other shoulder was bared, and I forced myself to ignore the way they pled with me and the way they glistened with unshed tears. “You need to be comfortable around me, Blackbird. Eat.”
After another minute, she grabbed for the piece of toast. But even then, she just held on to it as she continued to violently tremble.