Page 20 of Trapped (Snowbound with a Stranger #2)

The Resistance

Erin

The walls were closing in on me, pulsating like a conscious, brutal rhythm playing out in my head. The scent of my antagonist’s cologne loitered by my nostrils, stirring the nausea swelling in my belly. His smell was the opposite of an aphrodisiac, a sickening blend of sweat and old, musty cologne.

“It’s just me and you.”

He straightened on the chair he’d pulled up to sit opposite me, revealing the same crooked, off-putting grin he’d flashed before.

“Time to get to know each other.”

“I think I know enough about you already, thanks.”

Lowering my head, I tried to pull in fresh air, but the air in the room seemed stale and polluted by him, appalling earthy notes meeting at the back of my throat as though they were designed to taunt me.

“Don’t be ridiculous!”

He snorted, edging the chair even closer.

“You don’t know me at all.”

“I know you swooped in to take Eli and me from the cabin.”

My head snapped up in anger, disgusted that he could be so cavalier in the face of everything he’d ordered and overseen. What on Earth made him think I’d even consider ‘getting to know’ a repellent snake like him? I didn’t have to be a genius to know he was no friend.

“To save you.”

He gestured toward me, employing that same pompous tone that had riled me earlier. Men like him were all the same. They thought they had all the answers, and they never wanted to listen to anyone else’s opinions.

“I received Eli’s message, and I wanted to help.”

“Eli didn’t message you.”

I was sure that was what Eli had said, and based on his stunned reaction to Hawkins’ arrival, it didn’t seem likely he’d have reached out to the guy.

“He clearly loathes you!”

“We have a… complicated relationship.”

He snickered.

“But we’re all on the same side at the end of the day.”

“Oh, yeah.”

I wished I could gain some space from the cretin, but every time I leaned back and struggled for breath, he inched the chair nearer. There was no escaping him.

“Which side is that?”

“You know.”

He grinned.

“The ‘right’ side. I’m one of the good guys.”

Why did I find that so difficult to believe?

“If you’re one of the good guys, then you won’t mind untying me.”

I yanked at the rope covering my left wrist.

“I could really use some fresh air.”

“’Fraid not.”

He smirked.

“I need to keep you safe, beautiful, and the only way to do that is to keep you here with me.”

“But I really don’t feel well.”

The pounding in my head was magnifying the desire to throw up. I felt awful enough without having to beg for my fucking freedom.

“Please, just let me go and—”

“No.”

Cutting me off, he rose from his seat and loomed over me.

“That’s not how this is going to go, and you’re smart enough to know that.”

I turned my face away from his towering form, trying not to inhale while he was in such close proximity, but it was all but impossible to ignore his thrumming aroma. The smell was coming off of him in thick, indelible ways that were making it hard to get oxygen and goading at my impending nausea.

“You know how this goes.”

Leaning one hand on the back of my chair, he lowered his other hand, skimming it along my chin.

“Boy meets girl. Boy rescues girl. Girl opens her legs for boy.”

Tilting my head to ensure our gazes locked, I articulated the reply nice and slowly for him as my thighs slammed shut.

“No. Fucking. Way.”

“Now, now.”

He recoiled, feigning hurt feelings, but it was nowhere near far enough away for my liking. The other side of the planet would still have been too close.

“That’s not very nice, is it?”

“I’m not nice.”

If I could only have raised one hand and eased the hammering at my temples, that would have gone some way to alleviating my symptoms, but tied there and helpless but to endure his whims was only intensifying my biliousness.

“Rubbish.”

Using both hands, he pressed at the insides of my knees and tried to prize them apart.

“I know you’re a good girl. You just need a real man to remind you. A man like me who can make you his good little girl.”

His little girl?

An echo of the term of endearment Eli had used flitted through my mind. It had been strange enough permitting him to speak to me that way, but there was no way I was allowing the repugnant moron pushing his weight around to employ it.

“I’m not your anything.”

I hissed the words.

“Just leave me alone, please.”

“Uh-uh.”

He shook his head.

“I’m sure you’ve been around the block enough times to know what happens next. I need to relax and unwind, and you’re the lucky girl who gets to help me.”

I closed my eyes at the grim thought. Even the idea of having to be closer to the odious prick than I already was threatened the rising tide of vomit swilling inside of me. Surely, he could see signs of how I was feeling? Couldn’t he tell I wasn’t joking?

“Listen, I’m sure you’re a great guy and all that…”

A great guy? Who was I fucking kidding? Hawkins seemed like the worst kind of reptile; a so-called man who didn’t seem to be able to take no for an answer.

“It’s just that I’m not looking for a relationship right now.”

My head fell at the lie, not because of the untruth, but because I’d felt it necessary to pursue it. I was just another one of those women making excuses to try and protect herself from a vile man. Like a hundred thousand women before me, I’d been forced to resort to feeding a man bullshit answers to justify his bad behavior.

How the hell has it come to this?

Only a few days earlier—before Eli had come crashing into my life—I’d been happily single. At least, that was what I’d told Chelle and anyone else who’d inquired. As it was, my world had been turned upside down by a virtual stranger, whose whereabouts would be my biggest concern had the revolting Hawkins not been so gravely invading my personal space.

“Don’t give me that!”

Using more force, he pulled my knees open and pushed himself between them. I yelped as he pressed himself over me.

“You were in bed with Rosen when I found you!”

“Get away from me!”

Lifting one leg toward my body, I tried to get my socked foot between us to kick him away, but he shoved my leg back to the chair with a hard thud

“Listen, bitch.”

Gaze narrowing, his hand rose to my throat. He didn’t apply much pressure, but the mere fact that he’d been prepared to treat me so callously told me everything I needed to know. Hawkins was dangerous. Not just odious, but a fundamental threat.

“You’re going to give me what I want, so you might as well just smile and play along.”

“I’m not giving you anything!”

The instinct to flee, freeze, or fight was kicking in, but bound to his chair, there was no chance for any response. No opportunity to flee, the tightening fingers at my throat assured me. There was even less chance of adequately resisting, and freezing up, it seemed, wasn’t an option my body understood.

Panic bloomed in my chest; the type of bitter dread that stole my breath and reminded me of the icy snow we’d left behind. The nausea was still there, swimming in my stomach, but at that moment, it was being vetoed by my body’s latent demand for oxygen.

“Then I’ll just take what I want.”

Pushing deeper between my thighs until his trousers grazed the wooden seat of the chair, his hand slipped north and collected a fistful of my hair. Jerking my head back as far as the chair allowed, he snarled as he went on.

“After fucking him, everything will seem like a step up.”

“Fuck you!”

I winced at the pressure firing at my scalp, still struggling to close my legs as my heart attempted to gallop out of my chest.

“Yeah, darling. That’s the idea.”

Still, I struggled, refusing to sit there and comply with the bastard’s noxious offensive. He might have ended up being stronger than me, but I wasn’t a green young thing just out of college. I knew men like him. I’d met them before.

I should have known better than to land myself in trouble like this.

As I raised my knee and shunted it into his belly, I realized that criticism wasn’t fair. I hadn’t landed myself in the situation, and as far as I could tell, neither had Eli. It was the asshole ranting angrily between my legs who was to blame. I couldn’t permit him to gaslight me and push the culpability my way.

“You’ve got too many clothes on,”

he growled.

“But how about a little foreplay before I enjoy you?”

“Fuck you!”

Hadn’t he heard me the first time.

“I don’t want anything to do with you.”

“Such a pity…”

He seemed calmer, as though I’d whispered something tender in return. No doubt that spoke to the instability of the man, that he seemed reassured by my resistance, rather than perturbed.

“Maybe I’ll find something to gag that pretty mouth with. I don’t want you upsetting yourself.”

“No!”

The idea of being gagged in the midst of such terror inspired more fear—an outcome I presumed he’d intended with the threat. Closing my eyes, I silently berated myself for taking his bait and falling straight into his trap.

“Keep that mouth closed and I might not need to.”

His smile was menacing, suggesting he knew how much he’d got to me and heightening my regret.

“Play nice, and I’ll reward you.”

Reward me? The mere premise was hideous.

“Just sit there.”

His free hand rose to my chest, groping the weight of my right breast through my clothes.

“I’m sure we can reach a compromise.”

Get off me!

I sent the message with my glare, knowing he understood entirely and was still willing to completely ignore my protest. He had no right for any of his sick performance, but being manhandled was the latest indignity I was forced to tolerate.

Where are you, Eli?

My gaze traveled past the fiend who was prepared to assault me, searching the space behind him. If only Eli was there. He’d find a way to save me. He’d…

The unyielding drum in my head drowned out whatever pitiful thought was coming next. Eli wasn’t there. Hell, for all I knew, he was dead, and however I might want to dress him up as the savior in the story, he was no hero. Hadn’t he bound me and refused to let me leave the cabin? Hadn’t he taken me over his knee and hurt me without my assent? He wasn’t much better than Hawkins.

That’s not true.

Turning away from the repulsive, overweight man, I listened to the voices warring in my head.

Eli can be a dick—he pushed my boundaries and tried my patience—but he’s nothing like this. I always wanted him, always fundamentally trusted him. He never truly harmed me.

But like it or not, Eli had inadvertently led me down the pathway to the place I found myself in. He had been a part of the problem.

“Please!”

Hot tears born of frustration rose as I choked on the word. I couldn’t believe the enormity of what was happening, and of everything that had transpired before. James, Miles, Chelle, the storm, and then Eli—it had all mounted up to be an impossible tally long before the monster molesting me had showed up.

The emotion ballooned, rising and falling in waves that stirred the well of nausea swirling inside. Anxiety, concern, and anger merged, melding themselves into a sinister knot of overwhelm as they pushed north.

“You want more?”

His tone was wry as he released my hair and lowered his other hand to join the first. Feeling through my layers of clothing, he fondled my breasts, clawing at my sensitive tissue as though he was a starving man who’d never seen food before.

“Just get off me!”

Rage swirled through my blood, repressing any need to be silent and still. Fuck him and his fabricated rules. Fuck him and his threats. No matter the repercussions, I wasn’t going to just sit there and let him attack me.

“Tut tut.”

His face reddened as his hands finally withdrew.

“What did I tell you about that pretty mouth of yours?”

I stared directly at his face as the first sure sign of the nausea rose. I’d sensed its presence before, but not in the same, certain way that seemed to suck the blood from my cheeks. Apparently, my nervous system had reached its limit and was about to launch vomit out of the exit it could find. Usually, I would have clasped a palm to my mouth to try and prevent what came next, but with my hands tied, there was no hope of that reprieve. In the split seconds that stretched out between the realization and the nausea’s arrival, I threw myself forward as far as the cretin, and the ropes, allowed.

The sounds of my retches echoed around the poor décor, followed closely after by the first round of puke. I hadn’t vomited for a long time, but as a child, I had a proven track record of barfing until my stomach was completely empty—especially when I was over-heated and emotional. It didn’t look good for Hawkins’ poor choice of shirt.

“You fucking bitch!”

Hawkins retreated in disgust, but his withdrawal came too late. Looming over me had meant he’d become the vomit’s primary target, and while a tiny quantity appeared to have landed on my socks, he’d otherwise taken the entire, punishing brunt.

“You just puked all over me!”

I couldn’t decide if it was outrage, revulsion, or shock that painted his ugly face. Unfortunately, I hadn’t been able to aim high enough for it to have been my sick.

“I told you I was ill.”

I sank back against the chair, pulling in deep breaths and praying he’d just fuck off. Knowing my stomach, the vomit was far from over, and I needed to catch my breath while I could.

“You didn’t listen.”

“Look at the state of me!”

His eyes widened with horror as he stared down the length of his body.

“I’m c-covered!”

“Sorry.”

I wasn’t even vaguely sorry.

“I feel awful.”

That much was true at least; just not in the way it sounded.

“I need to get myself cleaned up.”

His gaze darted around the place as if he didn’t know where the bathroom was.

“I can’t stay like this. It’s making me feel ill.”

“Fine.”

It wasn’t fine, but at least him going to get cleaned up offered me something of a reprieve.

“Go and get cleaned up.”

“I can’t believe you did this.”

Oh, get the fuck over it.

“I still feel ill…”

I scarcely managed the assertion before the next round of nausea loomed. That time, I tilted as far as the ropes allowed me, projecting most of the bile over the side of the chair.

“Oh my God.”

Hawkins backed away as though a little vomit was the nastiest thing he’d ever witnessed. Somehow, I found that impossible to believe.

“Wait, I’ll get you a wastepaper bin. You’re going to ruin my fucking carpet.”

Glancing down at the browny-mustard pile, I wasn’t sure my puke would even be a noticeable stain, but I didn’t complain as he rushed forward to collect the bin and thrust it onto my lap.

“Please,”

I gasped, genuinely drained and exhausted.

“Can you at least untie one hand so I can hold the bin?”

I looked his way imploringly.

“What?”

He backed away, still covered in my initial effort. “No way!”

“I’m trying to protect your property!”

I reasoned with the asshole.

“If I’m sick again, I might make a mess somewhere else. Let me deal with this while you get yourself sorted out.”

He gazed down the front of his clothes as if he’d forgotten the projectile vomit he’d been covered in. Chunks of whatever I’d eaten since the hike merged with bile to produce a unique work of art.

“I’ll still be tied with one hand,”

I continued, sensing he might be softening to the idea.

“But at least it’ll save your furniture and carpet.”

“Fuck!”

Gritting his teeth, he moved toward me cautiously.

“Fine, but only your left hand, and if you dare try to mess me about, I’ll make sure nobody ever hears from you again.”

Gee, thanks.

It was the surest threat he’d made against my life, but as he tugged at my binds to release my hand, I bit down on my disgust. Like the bitter taste in my mouth, it would have to wait to be remedied.

“There.”

Yanking at my liberated wrist, he thrust my limb in the direction of the bin.

“Puke in there.”

“Thanks,”

I murmured, staring into the empty black bin.

“And don’t fucking go anywhere!”

Once again, his attention flitted around nervously.

“I’ll get one of my guys to babysit you.”

“No need. I’m not going anywhere.”

My voice echoed into the container, but by the time I looked up, Hawkins was already at the door, thrusting it open and backing into the hall. I doubted he’d heard my reply, which was just as well.

Nothing I’d ever said had been further from the truth.