Stockholm Syndrome

15: All Tied Up

15: All Tied Up

I know he found me. And I feel like I remember when he did. But that's a lie I'm telling myself. When I woke up on the same bed that he had me on for the first five days, everything was blurry. I tried rubbing my eyes but panic struck in my throat when I noticed that my hands were tied behind my back. I struggled for a while before worming my way up to sit with my back against the headboard. Luke walked out of the bathroom and I glared at him. I glared at him and I didn't stop. Now I was the one staring. Luke glanced at me and grunted.

"Don't look at me like that." He defended himself calmly. "I was just fine with keeping you untied but you're the one that ran away."

"And I was just fine keeping my normal life going just the same." I retorted. "But you kidnapped me."

"You'll thank me."

"Tell me why." I snorted, blowing a piece of hair out my eyes. He leaned over me and tucked the strand of hair behind my ear. He stayed over me, a hand on either side of me.

"I will eventually." He told me.

"Promise me." I whispered, trying not to shrink away from him. He nodded.

"Cross my heart." With that, he pushed off and began walking out of the room.

"Wait!" I screamed. He stopped and walked back, leaning on the corner as he watched me. "What am I supposed to do in the meantime?" I whined.

"Whatever I tell you." He answered. I bit back a nasty retort. Instead, I raised my eyebrows. "Just stay there."

"No, I was thinking of going on a walk." I said blandly. He rolled his eyes.

"Just stay." He repeated, leaving the room. I felt like crying but nothing came.

Luke came and went all day. I watched him when he was in the room but he hardly acknowledged me. Then, he came in with a sandwich. I assumed he was going to eat it while he read or something but instead he sat on the bed next to me. I lunged to the other side, attempting to roll off but he caught hold of one of my hands and pulled me back by the rope around them. I leaned my head against the headboard and took a deep breath.

"Since you've been here, you've hardly eaten a thing. And what you do eat, you throw up."

"Because I'm terrified!" I defended myself.

"No, because you shove your finger down your throat and trigger your gag reflex after you eat." He said, his voice hardening a bit. I quieted down, looking at my lap. I didn't know he had seen me do it. I believed I had been discreet. Apparently not.

"I'm not eating that." I said stubbornly, watching him from the corner of my eye.

"Darling, you don't have a choice." He replied. Nothing in his posture of expression changed but I tensed up. "Please don't make me force you." He begged. He begged. I say it again, he begged. I bit my lip.

"Here's the deal." I started, wiggling around to look at him. "You untie my hands and I eat that."

"Only for an hour." He compromised.

"And you tell me why I'm here." I glared at him. He shook his head.

"No."

"No deal." I answered confidently even though I knew he would shove the food down my throat if I didn't eat. Something sparked in his eyes.

"Fine." We stared at each other for a moment.

"Love, you need to turn around if I'm going to untie your hands." He whispered huskily. I moved. His fingers undid the knot skillfully and every second I hated him even more. Even with my hands untied, he still had complete control over me. And I hated that. Therefore I hated him.

 Right?