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“Are you going to let my brother go?” she asks again.

“No.”

“Then you’re hurting me,” she whispers.

She uncrosses her legs and steps in front of me with her hands out so I can pass her my plate.

I hold it out to her but run my fingertip over her knuckle. Her quick intake of breath tells me she’s shocked. Her feet staying put tells me she liked it.

“I’m making you feel something, Killer, but I don’t think it’s hurt.”

Her pink lips press together in a flat line. Seems I’ve struck a nerve.

“Good night, Austin.”

“Good night, Olivia.”

Chapter Six

Austin

Iwake the next day, the smell of bacon filling my nostrils.

“Morning,” a soft voice whispers very close to my face.

Did I get laid last night? My morning erection is ready to go if so.

I roll to my side, ready to reach out to the hopefully soft, naked body lying next to me, but the clink of metal wakes me faster than any alarm clock.

“Have you been sleeping okay? Comfortable enough? I can get you another pillow or different bedding. You’re probably used to something a little fancier than what I’ve given you.”

I rub my hand over my face and blink my heavy eyelids open.

Bright eyes and freckles fill my vision, her warm breath tickling my chin as she inspects my face.Fuck, why is she standing so close?My eyes dip down as if following a homing beacon. A sheen of sweat coats her chest as her tits threaten to spill out of her crop top. Does she realize how dangerous this is? You don’t get within grabbing distance of your hostage.

“Are you feeling okay? You look a little peaky. I can get you medicine. Maybe you’re not getting enough vitamin D...Actually, you’re definitely not. Your skin is sallow and lifeless.”

Fucking rude. There goes my morning wood.

“Maybe I should get you a supplement.”

“Or you could let me go.”

Please don't.

“Are you ready to let my brother go?”

“Not happening, Killer.”

“I can wait you out,” she snips.

“Well, at the moment, we can call this a wild weekend together. Any longer, and people are going to start looking for me.”

She frowns, retreating out of reach, and as I sit up, I try to stretch out the muscles in my back. The chains have been digging under my ribs. Not unbearable, but uncomfortable all the same.

She looks at my bare chest and the indents in my skin. Her brows knit together as she presses her lips into a flat line. Despite knowing better, she appears so innocent like this, but it looks like the guilt is kicking in.

Handing me the plate, she says, “You don’t seem too bothered about me letting you go.”