Page 11 of Ripple Effect, Vol. 2

The muscles in my face beg to twitch, but I maintain the stoic, gambler’s expression that used to piss Randy off when I’d swipe cash from his wallet.

“In all honesty, I don’t care what you need the money for. Anything you tell me won’t appeal to me anyway. Shitty side of having no empathy.” He takes another bite of the meat and his jaw works it slowly as he studies me and taps at the front of his head. “Too many hits growing up, ya know? Doc used to call it damage to the frontal cortex. All you have in your favor is a craving that I can’t seem to shake. I’m curious to know what you sound like when you scream—just haven’t decided if it’s pain or pleasure I want to hear most.”

“I’m not giving in, so you can take your curiosity and shove it up your ass.”

He shrugs at that before tearing off another bite. “You don’t have to give in,” he says, around a mouthful of food.

I narrow my eyes, while his confusing little words pile drive my skull. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Tell me how you broke into my house. Truthfully, no lies. Tell me why. And I’ll let you go.”

Bullshit. He’s so full of bullshit, it’s practically leaking out of his eyeballs. And as long as I don’t tell him, I have a reason for him to keep me alive. At this point, he probably wouldn’t believe the story about my dog, anyway. “Right. Just like that. You’ll just let me waltz right out of here and off to the cops. I doubt that. I saw what you did to that man.”

“That is a problem. But I don’t think you’ll run off to the cops. See, I don’t think you’re that stupid. Although … I did let you go once and you came back. So you’re not exactly the sharpest knife in the block, which puts you on my radar.”

“I followed you that night,” I lie. If he had any clue that I’ve watched him for months, I’m pretty sure there’s no way he’d let me go. “From the factory. The money’s for my drugs.”

“Lucky for you, that’s no longer a problem, right, Bandit? I mean, technically speaking, I saved your life.”

My eyeballs damn near spin in their sockets. “By locking me up in your basement? Just how insane are you?”

“How is this any different than sleeping on the streets?”

“Oh, I don’t know … maybe the fact that I wasn’t chained to a goddamn wall!”

“You kept pulling out your IV. It was for your safety,” he says, tossing a chicken bone onto the plate.

“And now?”

“And now, it’s for my personal entertainment. Steel’s a good color on you, sweetheart. Brings out your eyes.”

Bastard. Twisted, sickening … I take a deep breath to settle my nerves. “So now what? You gonna let me go?”

“Haven’t decided yet.” He rises up from the chair, taking the plate of food with him. “Can’t keep you tied up down here forever, though. It’ll be a pain in the ass going up and down those stairs all day to feed ya.” He taps his temple with his fingertips and gestures an explosion. “Outta sight, outta mind, know what I’m sayin?”

“You said … you said you’d let me go. If I told you—”

“I said if you told me truthfully, no lies. See, knowing when someone’s lying is my specialty.” He points two fingers at his eyes, as if to suggest they’d given me away. “So we’ll pick this up again tomorrow. Same time?” He twists back around, heading toward the staircase. “Worst part is,” he says over his shoulder. “I’d have probably given you that money. Could’ve worked something out between us.”

Worked something out? I’ve no doubts he means sex, which leads my mind to wander to that night outside of the club. Would he have picked me up if circumstances were different? Paid me for sex and let me go?

The logical side of my brain would advise against what I’m about to do, but the side that’s kept me alive so far pushes those thoughts aside for the one that tells me there’s still a chance to save myself.

“Wait!” My fingers curl around the binds, bracing myself for what I’m about to offer this man. This killer. “Look. I need that money. Badly. And … well, maybe … maybe we can work something out.”

He pauses on the staircase and sniffs. “Like what, Bandit?”

I don’t even realize I’m biting the shit out of my lip until the tinny flavor hits my tongue. “Whatever you want with me. At the end, you give me six grand and let me go.”

Setting the plate of food down on the staircase, he tromps back down the stairs and comes to a stop at the side of the bed. The mattress dips as he plants his fists beside me and leans in. “I don’t think you realize what you’re offering. So I’ll make it easy on you. No.”

“What? You told me that you’d wait for me to submit. You’re the one who said I’d break!”

“I don’t make deals to get what I want.”

“I’ll do anything … you tell me to. No argument.”

He snorts a laugh and shakes his head. “Anything to you and anything to me means two different things.”