63: Ten Minutes Later
"Round three." Luke spoke again, walking back into the room. This time he had put on a voice that you would hear making announcements at a boxing match. He stood behind the couch, waving the sandwich in front of my face. I glared at him. "Another ten minutes." He decided.
"Do I really have a choice?"
"Your choice is whether you eat on your own or by me forcing you." Luke stated bluntly. I shivered, grabbing the plate and trying to ignore the way it felt with him towering above my back.
YOU ARE READING
Stockholm Syndrome
General FictionI didn't want to. I wouldn't. I won't. But suddenly I was doing it. I didn't even register my feet hitting the fourteen steps it took to get up the stairs. My brain ignored the ninth step and how creaky and loud it was. And then I was there. Finding...
