As soon as I was sure I wouldn’t collapse, I made my way to the toilet in the corner. Dropping my drawers, I took a seat and emptied my bladder. Some people would be put off by being on display. Me? Not so much. I didn’t invite him. He was just lucky I didn’t have to crap. I had no problems with giving him a stink bomb he would remember.
Finishing, I flushed the evidence then stripped out of the top and pants to begin my daily wipe down. The water from the sink was always cold. But it was clean, and there was no taint to it. The ache in my wrists served as the only reminder of the damage the shackles had done. He’d done a very effective job cleaning the injuries. Had he healed them or just sealed the injuries? I’d certainly burned enough resources in the recovery, so it was a fifty-fifty debate on who owed what to whom.
The items in question were no longer on the floor. He must have recovered them when his friend beamed in for a visit. Ignoring the chill, I wiped down the best I could with what passed for soap. What I wouldn’t give to wash my hair in a real shower. So far, I’d made do with washing it in the sink, but there was no conditioner, and even my hair needed something. Dipping my head, I twisted to get it under the water.
A pained groan issued from behind me, and I rolled my eyes.
“Don’t look if you can’t handle it,” I told him.
“Oh, I can handle you just fine,” Maddox informed me. “Though you’re lucky it’s me and not someone else. Not everyone would be so restrained.”
I snorted. “No one takes anything from me,” I reminded him as I worked the soap through my hair. Eyes closed, I massaged my scalp. “And intentions matter.”
“Fair.” The single grunt was his only response. I appreciated his lack of challenging the assertion. All things being equal, I didn’t need to deal with another flood of choking testosterone. That said, I didn’t question the fact he wouldn’t try to take what hadn’t been offered to him.
Like I said, intentions mattered. His lust hung over him like a cloud of electricity, buzzing the air with its presence. But he also hadn’t moved from his spot on the cot, nor had his focus lasered on to me. After rinsing the soap out, I wrung the hair as best I could, then straightened.
I almost objected to putting the clothes back on, but I didn’t have anything else to wear, so clean or dirty, the ugly drab gray would have to do. The top clung to me in places, and my dripping hair soaked the back. The chill raced over my flesh, but I ignored it as I stepped into the pants.
Unsurprisingly there were no blood bags on the floor. That was a nice change of pace. I never touched the damn things anyway. Finished, I headed for the corner I’d sat in the day before when Maddox released a warning growl and stood. The cell suddenly seemed far too small for the two of us as his presence billowed out, carrying heat with it that chased away my chill.
“Sit.”
“Not a dog.”
The baleful look he sent me promised a hell of a fight, then he exhaled. “Kitten…don’t provoke me. This whole situation is grating on my nerves. I do not want to take it out on you.”
The request surprised me. It wasn’t an order. The fact that he asked followed by the explanation pleased me on a level I wasn’t going to examine at the moment. Instead, I had a counter offer. “Answer a question for me?”
If my response surprised him, he gave no indication. In the light from the torches, he seemed even bigger than he had the day before. His shadow stretched even further across the walls, even as his eyes reflected the flickering flames. They weren’t slitted at the moment, but more normal. The hazel-green a pretty enough color. Almost simple.
Yet nothing about Maddox was at it appeared.
That much I didn’t doubt.
He shrugged. “Ask.”
“Why are you here? I mean really. Why come to get me? You don’t know me. We’ve never met before.” I’d have remembered him. “So why risk it to get in here?” This place was legend. Most who were consigned within its walls never returned. Those rare few who had? Well, it was said they weren’t the same.