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Maybe that should totally send me spiraling into panic . . . but it doesn't. At least, not in any way that it should.
Maybe I should be freaked out that he left me. That he changed his mind. Maybe I should be concerned that the FBI could come breaking down the door at any minute and arrest me.
None of this concerns me though. Why?
Well, it might have something to do with the sticky note stuck to my forehead when I woke up this morning. The one that said, Be back soon.
Most people put notes on pillows, nightstands, or counters. Ryder obviously thought it was a better idea to stick it to my head. Joy oh joy.
Or, it could have something to do with the handcuff wrapped around my wrist and attaching me to the headboard of the bed.
Or, it could be the second sticky note stuck onto the headboard next to handcuffs that read, Don't go anywhere . . .
Where the hell am I going to go when he's handcuffed me to the damn bed?
Lucky him my mind wasn't on going anywhere. My mind was on medieval torture methods.
I can't believe him. I thought we made some progress. Clearly, if he's still using the handcuffs-and not on himself-this is not the case.
I curse him out as I pull on the stupid cuff, trying to get myself loose. Unfortunately, I don't have any bobby pins or other locking picking paraphernalia anywhere nearby, so it looks as if I'll have to wait for Ryder to get back with the key.
Great. Just great. Perfect. Just. Freaking. Perfect. Damn him to hell.
As if he can read minds or simply be summoned like the demon he is, the door to the room opens and Ryder leisurely walks in. Sunglasses still on and a donut in his hand. Déjà vu much?
I glare at him when he doesn't say anything and just stands there. My attention goes briefly to the donut. "I hope you at least brought me one," I say angrily.
He gets that mischievous smile on his face. "Well I did, but I ate it." I glare at him.
"Correction," He says and I watch as he shoves the rest of the donut in his mouth. Thank God he at least finishes chewing the donut before he speaks again. "Now, I've eaten it."
"I hate you," I grumble before gesturing to the handcuffs and clanging the chain. "Take these off."
"In a minute," He says. He takes off his sunglasses and places them on the desk. "I kind of like you helpless."
"Come a little closer and I'll show you just how helpless I am." With a nice swift kick and a good hard punch.
"I think I'll pass," He says as he takes a seat in the desk chair. "For my own safety."
"You're not funny, Ryder," I tell him. "Take these off now."
"First," Ryder starts. "I need you to explain things. Everything. You've been giving me bits and pieces because I didn't know who you were. Now, I do. So, I need the entire story, from the beginning."
I glare at him. "And you're not going to remove the cuff until after I tell you?"
Ryder shrugs. "Maybe I'll leave it on a for a while longer, who knows." He then has the audacity to fix me with a heated look and wink at me.
YOU ARE READING
I can't keep the smile off my face as I take my seat on the plane. I slide my bag under the seat and lean back. I close my eyes and let a blissful smile grace my face. He said I wouldn't be able to run. As if. I'm vaguely aware of someone taking the...