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He carried a length of chain and handcuffs. “Maybe you can’t run, but I wouldn’t put it past you to slit my throat in my sleep and steal my truck.” He raised one brow, challenging me to contradict him.

“Slit your throat? Trust the psychopath to think of that. Keep talking, you’re giving me some stellar ideas.”

Shep took steady steps toward me. “If you’re not planning on escaping, you shouldn’t have a problem wearing these. It’s insurance for me. Nothing kinky.” He lunged and slapped one cuff on my wrist faster than I imagined possible.

I pulled against it and grimaced when my efforts only caused me pain.

“Stop struggling and it won’t hurt. I haven’t put it on tight.”

Shit.He was right, but it didn’t mean I was comfortable being chained to the bed.

I swung at him with my free fist and kicked his chest with my one good foot. It was like kicking a brick wall. Fighting him might be pointless, but I couldn’t stop. Those cuffs were freaking me out.

His face remained stoic as he grabbed my flailing arm and held it at my side before shifting his weight over my body, incapacitating me for the second time today. It should terrify me that a killer held me pinned. Instead I was furious. I bared my teeth at him and growled.

Shep weaved the chain through the headboard before securing the end to the spare cuff. He gave it a firm tug to check its hold.

He released my arms, and when I kicked him away, he retreated.

I shimmied up to sitting. “Asshole!” I growled, my chest heaving. “You can’t say you’re trying to help me while holding me captive like this.”

“Just did.” He turned and headed for the door.

That son of a bitch. I slammed my fists into the bed as blind fury raged inside me. If I were free right now, I’d kill him. Except I had a feeling it would be as difficult as taking down the Terminator.

I had to get the hell out of here and away from him. With an exasperated groan, I tossed my head onto the pillow and yanked the covers up.

Shep returned carrying a blanket and rolled-up mattress. He laid them out on the floor in front of the doorway, blocking the exit before taking a spare pillow from the bed.

I breathed a sigh of relief when he headed to the bathroom, closing the door behind him. Seconds later, pipes creaked and the shower started up. For the first time since he took me, I had a moment to myself. I almost wished I didn’t, because there were so many distressing thoughts rushing through my mind.

I was beyond pissed with my brother, but worried sick. Was he safe? Had he somehow evaded the Mob’s search efforts? What the hell had he been thinking stealing drugs and money from them, anyway? If the dumbass needed cash, he could have asked me. God knows I’d helped him out enough times before.

It wasn’t only Justin’s situation concerning me. Tom would’ve worried when I didn’t show up for work this morning. When he couldn’t reach me, he’d call my friends, hospitals, and eventually the police. The same ones Franky paid off. They’d be no help at all. And did I want anyone to find me? My safety relied on Franky believing I was dead, so returning home wasn’t an option. Jesus, what a nightmare.

In the bathroom, the shower switched off and a few minutes later Shep opened the door wearing only a pair of boxers. My mouth turned parched in milliseconds.

Holy hell. I wished I’d been facing the other way, or had a chance to school my features because I wasn’t prepared for this. Shep was seriously built, but not puffed up like a bodybuilder. His physique was all coiled strength and sheer power. Cords of muscle stood out along his huge shoulders, chest and arms, and a ripped six pack led down to the vee of his waist.

The bastard knew he’d rattled me because he didn’t walk through the door. He just stood there staring at me while I stared at him. And dammit, I couldn’t look away. My disobedient eyes drank him in despite it being wholly inappropriate. A heated flush crept up my neck.

Shep didn’t seem to seek admiration though, far from it. It was as though he wanted me to see the real him. A predator and a seasoned warrior, if the many scars on his golden skin were any indication.

A muscle in his jaw flexed as our eyes locked.

Knowing who he was, what he was, had me frozen in place. Before me stood a murderer who I was forced to share a room with while being chained to a bed.

Nope, won’t be sleeping tonight.

“Get some rest, Cameron. Got a lot to discuss tomorrow.”

His words sparked me to action. I rolled over fast and prayed we never spoke of this awkward moment ever again.

Shep closed the curtains, blocking out what small amount of light remained of the day, then slipped into his makeshift bed. Ranger curled up on his dog mattress on the floor next to me.

It didn’t take long for Shep’s breathing to fall into a steady rhythm. I opened one eye to watch him. He lay on his back with the blanket pulled up to his waist, one arm behind his head, the other resting on his belly.

There was a boyishness about him as he slumbered. All his harsh features softened the moment sleep took hold. Or maybe it was the gentle light seeping through the windows that made him look more like a regular guy than a cold-blooded killer.

I hadn’t given up on convincing Shep to let me go. To do that, I needed him calm, so tomorrow I’d try to be more patient and less bitchy. And if I couldn’t make him see sense, I’d find another way to get the hell out of here.