Running With His Kid

Lunch

I dragged myself out of the room to get down to the Kitchen for Lunch. 

There was no will to do so, but I didn't want to risk anything. 

Kevin can be very intimidating when he wants to be; And when he threatened our daughter's life, there is no choice for me. Her safety is my main priority. 

I hopped down the two flights of stairs that I saw as the men brought me to my new bedroom. 

As my body reached the main hall of the house, a debate began running in my mind; Would it be safe to run? Probably not. 

The door was unguarded, but I bet there are dozens of men around the property with my name on their bullets. 

My plan to escape from the penthouse probably wouldn't work this time around, now that they've seen through my deception. 

I snapped out of my fantasy of escape and looked up at the large wall clock in the center of the two grand stairs. 

I'm almost five minutes late. 

My legs carried me fast. 

The Kitchen or Dining Room was nowhere to be seen. 

My forehead was covered in sweat by time the Dining Room was finally in sight. 

Kevin sat at the table, staring at the buffet of food in front of him. 

His feet bounced his leg, beginning to become impatient. 

As my footsteps sound on the cold tile, Kevin's head turned to me. 

Annoyance covered the features of his chiseled face. 

"You're late." Kevin's voice sounded cold and bored. 

"Couldn't find the Dining Room." 

I shrugged. 

"A map would be helpful." 

His hard gaze on me became more apparent. 

Oh, he can't take a joke. 

"Enough with the sarcasm. Grab some food and sit down." Kevin's hand motioned at the food and his words sound like an order. 

I sat a few chairs down from him, not even touching the food. 

"I'm not hungry." 

My voice sounded blunt and uninterested. 

In reality, I'm starving but Kevin doesn't need to know that. 

The tapping of his foot got faster, shaking the table quite a bit. 

It's easy to see how pissed off he is. 

The sound of his chair sliding against the wooden floor rang throughout the room as Kevin moved to the seat next to me. 

He immediately began to scoop out some food, placing it on my plate. 

My response? 

I hopped to the next chair over. 

Kevin lets out an annoyed sigh, moving to the next chair over by me. 

So, I hop to the other chair opposite of him. 

Kevin's annoyance turned into utter frustration as he's forced to move next to me again. 

But this time as I start to move to the next chair, Kevin grabbed my arm tightly to prevent me from moving. 

He held my arm, loosening his grip again, trying not to hurt me. 

How considerate. 

The plate slid onto the table in front of me. 

"Eat the damn food." 

"No." 

"Yes." Kevin held out the fork for me to take. 

"No." 

"Yes." 

"No." 

"Yes." 

"No." 

"No." 

"Yes." I scowled. 

Fuck him and his childish games. 

"Damn it." My voice muttered lowly. 

I jerked the fork from his hand. 

I took a small bite out of everything. 

Kevin's face is full of satisfaction and cockiness, seeing how he got me to eat the food. 

"Finish the plate, Rebecca." He talked to me as if I'm a child. 

"Mrs. Henderson wouldn't want her food to go to waste." 

"Who is Mrs. Henderson?" I questioned, completely confused. 

"She's my private chef. She worked for three hours preparing this meal. So, you better eat up." He explained, letting go of my arm and starting to scoop out his own plate of food. 

There was no denying the deliciousness of the food put in front of me. 

I've never had this good of Chicken Parmesan and French Fries in my sad life. 

Each bite made my mouth water. 

I had to mask the moans escaping my lips. 

To my surprise, Kevin let out a small chuckle at my reaction to the food. 

"It's good, eh?" He asked me, finishing his biscuit. 

All I did was nod my head, earning another chuckle from him. 

Before we both know it, I'm grabbing seconds.