“The broth smells great and everything, but I was hoping for something a little more substantial. And maybe a cake. She knows I like cake.”
“You don’t need cake. Eat.”
“I wouldn’t be eating; I’d be drinking. I’d still like to talk to her.”
He neither did nor said anything, just stood there.
Fine. I could get her attention without him.
“Emily!” I yelled at the top of my lungs.
“She won’t answer you,” Merdon said.
“Why not?”
“Because you’re mean.”
I wanted to kick him in the balls until they popped out of his mouth, make him swallow them, then do it all again.
“I’m not mean. I’m nice.”
“Maybe you were once. Not anymore. Eat, Hannah, or I will help you.”
We both knew what his version of helping meant. I sat and drank the broth. It wasn’t easy. It almost came back up twice, and I couldn’t imagine what it would have been like if it had been real food.
When I finished, I looked at the bed.
“Is Emily washing everything?” I asked.
He shrugged.
“There should be another set of sheets in the hall closet. I can get them.”
He just stared at me.
“What am I supposed to do?” I asked.
“Figure out how to live.”
My fingers curled before I could stop myself. His gaze flicked to them, and that hint of amusement crept into his expression.
I didn’t think it was possible to hate him more, but he always managed to up his game.
Chapter Twelve
How long did it take to wash some bedding? Forever. I considered just lying on the bare mattress, but I knew what Merdon and Emily were doing. They were testing my reaction when provoked.
Goading me was something that Merdon did very well. With his arms crossed over his massive chest, he leaned against the door and watched me. I didn’t mind the watching. It was the damn judgmental look in his eyes. Like he knew exactly what I was thinking and doing. I hated it. More importantly, I hated him.
“I’m hungry,” I lied. “Can I have some crackers or something?”
“No.”
“I thought you wanted me to live, not starve to death.”
He snorted. It wasn’t an amused snort; it was a disparaging one. I barely kept my fingers from curling into the claw-his-eyes-out position they’d taken before.
“Nothing to eat. Nowhere to rest. And nothing to do. Since I’m not into Tibetan throat singing, providing me a book or some other activity would have been considerate.” I wanted to add in a dig about him not being able to read but swallowed it down. I would not give him more fuel for his “mean Hannah” remarks.
He made no comment as I continued to pace the small confines of my room.
“Why can’t I go downstairs and just watch a movie? It’s not like I’d be able to leave with you dead-eying me all the time.”
He grunted. I couldn’t tell if he agreed that I would never get by him or rejected the movie watching. Probably both.
I glanced at the window again. It was already getting late. I hated this time of day, especially sober, because I knew what was next.
A soft knock on the door interrupted my thoughts.
“Emily?” I called.
There was no answer.
Merdon removed his weight from the panel and opened it to reveal an empty hallway.
“What the hell? Is she avoiding me?”
Merdon bent down to pick up the tray I hadn’t noticed sitting on the ground.
“Yes.”
That one word confirmed the failure of my plans. Without Emily, there would be no escape from my prison or my warden.
Seething, I glared at Merdon and moved without fully thinking. I couldn’t. I was too focused on the pretty visual I had floating in my head of him falling face first into the bowl of broth. That lovely fantasy evaporated when he pivoted suddenly and caught my outstretched hands in a forceful grip.
“Can’t blame a girl for trying,” I said with a cheeky smile I didn’t mean.
“Your attempts are pathetic and weak.”
“If they’re so pathetic, how did I manage to get you to the ground once already?”
He thrust me away with enough strength that I stumbled back a few steps and fell onto the bed.
When I looked up, the door was closed once more, and the bowl of soup rested in his open palm.
“Same choice,” he said simply, holding the bowl out.
“I’m tired of your games,” I said. “If you want me to eat, bring me real food.”
“This is what you need.”
“Screw you.”
He was on me in an instant, his hand clamped on my jaw and the other forcing the bowl between