I willingly let them go. “You’re weak, that’s why. You want to play the victim,” he says as he pulls the string free before looping it around my own throat. He drives his weight into me until I find myself on the ground where he shoves me to my stomach as he puts his knee into my back and tightens the string, but not enough to choke me. “Are you just going to lie there? Let me do whatever I want to you? Are you that weak?”
“It’s not about being weak. Why do all you alpha types think not fighting back is a sign of weakness?” I ask as I push against him to roll over. It’s a bit uncomfortable when I remember he’s naked from the waist down, but I stay focused. “You’re just like my father. You’re just like Tony. If a person isn’t ready to kill, punch, and maim their way to the top then they’re weak. No, I’m not weak. I’m smart enough to know when I’m up against someone I can’t beat with my fists. I know when I need to use my brain or my words, instead of just kicking and shoving at you.”
He stares at me, hand still on the string wrapped around my throat. He could kill me with a tug, but I know he won’t, I know that under that brutish attitude is a human being.
He drops the string and I reach up with a free hand and pull it loose.
“I just want to leave. I don’t know where I want to go, but I know I want to get away from here because I think they’re going to kill me.”
He glances down at my hand before taking it in his and rolling it over to see where I’d rubbed the skin raw from the handcuffs. He sighs and gets up before dragging me with him into the bathroom.
I watch as he opens the cupboard and pulls out a basket with first-aid stuff tossed inside. I try to keep my eyes from running down his bare ass, especially as he rummages around.
“Do you think you could put some pants on?” I ask.
“No. I like airing out my balls.”
“That’s disgusting, and I really wish you hadn’t shared that with me.”
He shrugs as he grabs something before splashing it on my wrist. It instantly stings and I jerk my arm back.
“For fuck’s sake. What was that?”
“Acid,” he says as he takes a white gauze pad and slips it under the handcuff before working it between the metal and my skin so the cuff rubs against it instead of the wound. Then he shoves everything back in the cupboard and drags me off without another word. He crawls into bed—right on the very edge again, so there’s absolutely no room for me—and shuts off the light.
“You’re seriously still going to make me sleep on the floor?”
“Yeah.”
“But I thought we bonded!”
“When?”
“When you were on my back and your dick was rubbing my shirt! Dammit, Shep, let me have a fraction of the bed.”
“It’s not Shep.”
“Dammit, Shepherd, let me share the bed. It has to be a full at the very least.”
“A queen, actually.” He sounds so smug when he says it.
“You’re an asshole and I take back everything nice I said about you.”
“Which was… nothing.”
I stare at him in disbelief when he decides that he’s honestly not going to scoot over. So I put my knee on the bed, planning on sleeping on the other side of him, even if it means his arm will have to be cranked over his body.
“Nope,” he says.
The issue is I practically have to crawl over his body with our hands attached, so I ignore him as I continue to slowly crawl onto the bed. The light turns on when I’m hovered over him, ready to make the hop to the other side.
“What part of no do you not understand? I gave you a blanket.”
I look down at my lack of a blanket. “You gave me a hoodie.”
“Use it as a blanket or I’ll take it away.”
While staring him in the eyes, I continue to crawl over his body. He grabs me and easy as can be, drags me off and deposits me onto the floor.
“Here’s a pillow, now shut up,” he says as the pillow smashes into the side of my face. “Don’t get blood on it.”
I grumble, but when he shuts the light off, I drape the hoodie over myself and lay my head on the pillow.