that’s going to happen), I’m going to finally do it. I’m going to be smarter this time and live the life that I want. No more fleabag motels, no more petty crimes...just...nothing. Just get the trust fund and be free.
Luckily there aren’t any strings attached to the trust fund. My grandfather took care of that.
Strings would have meant making an effort, and we don’t do that in the family. Except for an audience.
I need to put that in the past. I need to not think of them right now. I’ve got to focus on myself—and Wren.
Yeah, in another life we might have met and been perfectly bored with one another. She looks the type who would have hung out with the same crowd as my family. I would have hated her on principle. I certainly wouldn’t have wanted to fuck her.
Or maybe I would’ve. We’ll never know.
I scan the shelves and take just enough so that no one will notice. A couple of slices of pizza, a Stromboli, some bottles of water, and a couple of pieces of cake. It’s all crammed in a paper bag, and it’s not pretty, but it will keep us alive.
Stepping out of the fridge, I close it quietly and grab some napkins and carefully make my way out. From the corner of my eye I can see the rent-a-cop walking on the other side of the mall just across the way. Same dude that worked here a year ago.
His parents must be so proud.
Not as proud as mine, of course.
I want to get back downstairs. Don’t want to leave Wren down there tied up for too long. But I look around and think of what else we can use that I can take from this place. I put the bag down and grab another. A couple of more bottles of water, and then I wander around toward the back closet and find the perfect thing.
T-shirts and ball caps.
Not the greatest disguise, or any disguise at all, but they’ll help us blend a little bit more when we do eventually try to leave here.
I grab two of each—I don’t want to be greedy—and figure that I’ve taken enough from this place.
With my bag of food and clothes, I carefully walk out the back door and lock it behind me. I make my way down the stairs and take a minute to get my bearings and adjust to the darkness. There’s a light that I can turn on in the back corner over by where I left Wren.
My plan is to get over there, turn on the light, untie her and then we can eat. We’re both going to need to sleep soon too—I’m gonna have to find a way to keep her close to me so that she doesn’t try to escape.
The picture of her tied up naked come to mind, and my cock twitches its approval.
I’m a sick bastard.
Over the last year or so since I left home, I’ve developed a sort of…sixth sense. I know when something’s not right. And right now? Something is not fucking right.
I can hear a noise coming from the corner, and there isn’t a doubt in my mind that it’s Wren. But what the hell is she doing?
I don’t think she realizes that I’m back. Crouching down I put the food and clothes on the floor and carefully make my way over there. I’d kill for a fucking light switch right here, but I’ve got to get by her and open a door to get to it.
Shit.
All I can do is make it happen quick enough to see what it is that she’s doing.
Quick as I can, I move by, yank open the door, and hit the switch.
Her eyes are squinting from the sudden burst of light, but her back is to the metal shelves and she’s trying to cut through the tape on her wrists. Her arms are bleeding, and she crumbles to the floor.
I want to fucking kick her. It’s irrational and definitely an over-reaction, but that’s my knee-jerk response. Why is she making this so fucking hard? Why can’t she just—for once!—do what I ask?
I stand over her, and I can see a combination of fear and defiance in her eyes.
And the tears.
“What the fuck is the matter with you?” I demanded as I towered over her.
Thirteen
Wren
What the fuck is wrong with me? He’s actually asking what’s wrong with me ? What the fuck is
Luckily there aren’t any strings attached to the trust fund. My grandfather took care of that.
Strings would have meant making an effort, and we don’t do that in the family. Except for an audience.
I need to put that in the past. I need to not think of them right now. I’ve got to focus on myself—and Wren.
Yeah, in another life we might have met and been perfectly bored with one another. She looks the type who would have hung out with the same crowd as my family. I would have hated her on principle. I certainly wouldn’t have wanted to fuck her.
Or maybe I would’ve. We’ll never know.
I scan the shelves and take just enough so that no one will notice. A couple of slices of pizza, a Stromboli, some bottles of water, and a couple of pieces of cake. It’s all crammed in a paper bag, and it’s not pretty, but it will keep us alive.
Stepping out of the fridge, I close it quietly and grab some napkins and carefully make my way out. From the corner of my eye I can see the rent-a-cop walking on the other side of the mall just across the way. Same dude that worked here a year ago.
His parents must be so proud.
Not as proud as mine, of course.
I want to get back downstairs. Don’t want to leave Wren down there tied up for too long. But I look around and think of what else we can use that I can take from this place. I put the bag down and grab another. A couple of more bottles of water, and then I wander around toward the back closet and find the perfect thing.
T-shirts and ball caps.
Not the greatest disguise, or any disguise at all, but they’ll help us blend a little bit more when we do eventually try to leave here.
I grab two of each—I don’t want to be greedy—and figure that I’ve taken enough from this place.
With my bag of food and clothes, I carefully walk out the back door and lock it behind me. I make my way down the stairs and take a minute to get my bearings and adjust to the darkness. There’s a light that I can turn on in the back corner over by where I left Wren.
My plan is to get over there, turn on the light, untie her and then we can eat. We’re both going to need to sleep soon too—I’m gonna have to find a way to keep her close to me so that she doesn’t try to escape.
The picture of her tied up naked come to mind, and my cock twitches its approval.
I’m a sick bastard.
Over the last year or so since I left home, I’ve developed a sort of…sixth sense. I know when something’s not right. And right now? Something is not fucking right.
I can hear a noise coming from the corner, and there isn’t a doubt in my mind that it’s Wren. But what the hell is she doing?
I don’t think she realizes that I’m back. Crouching down I put the food and clothes on the floor and carefully make my way over there. I’d kill for a fucking light switch right here, but I’ve got to get by her and open a door to get to it.
Shit.
All I can do is make it happen quick enough to see what it is that she’s doing.
Quick as I can, I move by, yank open the door, and hit the switch.
Her eyes are squinting from the sudden burst of light, but her back is to the metal shelves and she’s trying to cut through the tape on her wrists. Her arms are bleeding, and she crumbles to the floor.
I want to fucking kick her. It’s irrational and definitely an over-reaction, but that’s my knee-jerk response. Why is she making this so fucking hard? Why can’t she just—for once!—do what I ask?
I stand over her, and I can see a combination of fear and defiance in her eyes.
And the tears.
“What the fuck is the matter with you?” I demanded as I towered over her.
Thirteen
Wren
What the fuck is wrong with me? He’s actually asking what’s wrong with me ? What the fuck is
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