Is that—

I fell on the box.

It is!

The creak of a seat sounded as Gemma turned to kneel instead of twist, watching me far too closely as I popped the latches and dragged the stash toward me.

Food.

Packaged food.

Holy shit, chocolate!

Hunger hit me like a cannonball, and I dived my fingers into the treasure, pulling out Snickers bars, M&Ms, Dairy Milk, Caramello, and every other Cadbury confectionery there was.

Choosing a plain bar of Dairy Milk, I tore at the purple wrapper and moaned the instant cocoa and sugar hit my tongue.

Good God, how had I survived so many years without sweets?

I looked up after my third massive bite, catching her eyes as she watched me with disdain, annoyance, and a tiny shred of curiosity. “Those are my emergency rations you’re wolfing down.”

“And they taste fucking brilliant.”

She sniffed, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “Oh, then by all means, please...help yourself.”

I narrowed my eyes, not liking her tone. “You ate my food. Fair’s fair.”

“Only difference is, my food has flavor.”

“Least my food comes straight from the ground. This is probably full of preservatives.”

“So stop eating it.”

I took another giant bite. “Can’t.”

Rolling her eyes, she let our little domestic fade before asking reluctantly, “I take it you haven’t had dessert in a while?” Her reluctance came from the same place my own questions did.

Asking me things meant she’d get to know me. She’d probably start to feel pity and sympathy. Already, snippets of compassion glowed beneath her anger at my entrapment.

Right now, she was justified in hating me.

I was the villain.

I liked that role. I’d earned that title.

So why did her reluctance to know me make my heart kick? Why could I read her as well as she seemed to read me?

Chewing slowly, I shoved those thoughts away. This girl was a trickster. A trespasser and I would not fall into whatever new trap she’d set.

“Well?” She huffed. “How long since you’ve had sugar?”

Finishing the chocolate, I swallowed before answering, “Not for seven years or so.”

Her forehead furrowed. “So, you’re telling the truth that you haven’t seen anyone in over a decade?”

I licked my lips and reached for a bottle of water, desperately thirsty now that I’d quenched a sugar-craving I hadn’t even known I had. Once I’d drunk my fill, I replied, “Eleven years or so. I don’t exactly remember.”

You can.

You just choose not to.

She flinched and wrapped her fingers around the headrest as if my answer almost knocked her over. She glanced at the rope I’d tied around her wrists, her face revealing the battle of learning me and cursing me.

Slowly, she exhaled, her shoulders dropping from around her ears. “That must’ve been incredibly hard.”

Snatching a new chocolate bar, I unwrapped it and shrugged. “No harder than the eight years or so before that.”

Her eyebrows shot high, disappearing into her tangled, filthy hair. Hesitation filled her, but she still asked the question I expected and didn’t want. “What happened in those eight years or so before?”

I gave her the only answer that mattered. “We survived.”

“We?”

I shook my head and bit into the chocolate.

That was enough for story time. Enough of straying too close to the edge of then and now. It was still dark outside. I’d already slipped. If I wasn’t careful, I might share too much and encourage the sludge of nightmares to find me again.

In my current state, I remembered a little more than I cared to. The vagueness of knowing crimes had been committed against me, the uneasy notions of beatings, rapes, and punishments were losing their fussy forgetfulness.

Keep your walls. Forget. Ignore.

The past receded a little, feeling less like me and more like someone who I used to know—someone I didn’t even like.

That helped. That distance kept memories devoid of emotion.

It kept my life less like the sum of who I was and more like a sad, poorly directed movie that I’d barely watched and didn’t care at all about the main character.

If she continued to ask, to push me closer into remembering, those walls would crumble, the movie would absorb me, and I would be the main character screaming out his agony with no one around to care.

Stuffing the rest of the chocolate into my mouth, I threw away the wrapper and reached for another.

“You’re having another one? A third and you’ll turn diabetic.”

I scowled. “There’s plenty. For once in my life, I’m not having to conserve.” I gave her a thin smile. “Thanks to your stash, I can be a glutton.”

Her huff of annoyance was loud, followed by the faint rock of the vehicle as she spun in her seat, awkwardly opened the door with the rope still imprisoning her, and leaped out.

I exploded out of the tailgate, planting myself in front of her. “And where do you think you’re going?” Soft rain slicked us, gracing her nakedness with goosebumps.

“Anyone ever tell you you’re hard work?” Pushing me out of the way, she opened the passenger back door. “You’re eating my food, idiot. I’m starving. I’m not exactly going to let you have a car picnic without me.” Scrambling into the back, she crawled with her hands together, unashamedly with her ass in the air and flashes of her pussy making me rock fucking hard until she leaned against the opposite side of the Jeep.

The back seats had been laid flat, leaving the rear with more room for gear and possibly a sleeping space. Her boxes of supplies dotted like life-giving islands in a sea of scratchy carpeting.

Tilting her head at me, still standing in the rain with my cock standing to attention, she asked sickly sweet, “Enjoying your shower, dearest? You’ve had your dinner and now getting ready for bed?”

I gave her the finger, aware chocolate smeared my fingerprints. “Anyone ever tell you that you’re a pain in the ass?”

“Yes. Regularly.” She flashed a pained smile. “Joshua.”

Jealousy heaved through me. “And who the hell is Joshua? Boyfriend?” I searched her left hand even though I knew there was no ring there. I’d noticed when she’d been unconscious within a few minutes of meeting her.

She wasn’t bound to another, which made it scarily easy to bind her to me.

Wiping her arms free from the fine haze of rain, she sighed as if my temper grated on her nerves. “You’ve strangled me, hunted me, fucked me, and stolen my food, yet you haven’t listened to a word I’ve said, have you?” Her eyes shot up, locking me in place.

My forehead furrowed. My memory knocked to deliver things she’d told me in the past. Things that were now firmly locked behind a door I could not, would not open.

Something about a brother, perhaps?

Bracing myself, I shrugged as if I didn’t care and slammed the car door shut. Marching back to the tailgate, I hopped inside, shoved away the mess I’d made, and adopted her position.

Back against the vehicle, legs spread out in front.

Two naked, dirty people who despised each other, sharing a respite from the rain with chocolate.

The only lie in that sentence was I didn’t think I despised her.

I fucking hungered for her.

Licking her lips, she reached for the box full of candy, managing to fend for herself despite her wrists roped together. Her breasts swelled to the side as she rummaged for a Snickers bar. Her nipples hard from the chill in the air, her hair sticking to her stunning skin.

And fuck, I suddenly no longer wanted chocolate.

My balls ached, and my cock twitched, demanding some sort of friction. Without thinking, I dropped my eyes to it, fisting my hands so they wouldn’t get any ideas of touching it.

The usual faint marks from my past had been replaced with bright wounds from our fight. Indents of her nails and bruises forming at the bottom of my shaft blazed in the gloom.