Last week's episode ended with Addy in a bad place emotionally...she hates this new planet and hates being a broodmare. Who could blame her? At least we know Max is alive. (Yay!) But how does Addy feel about that?
If you just found CAPTIVE, you can catch up reading here: Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapters 10 & 11 Chapter 12
Or you can get the full book now at your favorite retailers for only $2.99.
An abducted cop and a gladiator prisoner must learn to
trust each other with their lives…and their hearts…to escape their alien
captors.
CAPTIVE
Chapter Thirteen
It was another sleepless night as usual.
A gentle shower misted outside Tess’s transparent bedroom. Tired of watching tiny raindrops merge into large beads and roll down the observation wall, Addy got up from her pillow bed, pulled on her jean shorts and a sweatshirt, and crept to the kitchen in search of an apple.
The fruit bowl sat empty except for an orange. In her constant state of hunger, she had eaten everything else. She held the orange, wishing it would change into a Granny Smith. Smooth. Green. Crunchy. Tart.
Swallowing saliva, she replaced the fruit. Only one thing satisfied her midnight cravings. She put on her shoes, grabbed a lightstick and one of Tess’s baskets, and slipped out into the rain.
The gentle mist from the sprinkler system cooled her face and roused her senses. The pungent damp earth comforted her, as it had all her life growing up in the wilderness areas of Klamath National Forest. Not one to shy from Mother Nature in any season, she always felt right at home in the great outdoors.
Of course, she wasn’t really outdoors now, was she?
Apple picking by the peaceful moonslight shining through silver clouds lifted her mood. Even as the full basket weighed heavy on her arm, her spirit grew lighter. And when her teeth sank into the fruit’s tangy flesh, she sighed in blissful satisfaction. The trip in the rain had been more than worth it.
Long, wet strands of hair hung over her eyes. Her clothes clung to her. Not wanting to return yet, she strolled along the orchard’s straight path with Lunas Major and Minor lighting the way.
She sucked the last bit of juice from the core of her third apple when the hair on her neck bristled. Sensing a presence, she turned in all directions, searching the orchard’s shadows.
Nothing.
Her pulse quickened. Someone was out there. There was no denying that creepy sensation of someone’s—or something’s—watchful eyes.
She dropped the core. Keeping her gaze focused among the apple trees, she felt for the lightstick amid the apples in her basket. She pulled it out, turned it on, and spun in a circle with the beam drawn in front.
Twenty feet away, beneath a tree she had passed, he sat with his back against the trunk, watching her. He didn’t move when she shone the light in his face. He stared with those vacant green eyes.
“What are you doing out here?” If she engaged with Max like an officer, maybe she’d be able to control the sudden ire his presence triggered.
He didn’t answer.
“Did you follow me?”
Nothing.
She closed the distance, leaving about eight feet between them. Though the Hyboreans had shaved him a week ago, his drenched hair had grown out a half-inch. Rain slipped down his face and dripped off his ears and nose. He didn’t seem to notice or care. From his drowned rat appearance, he must have been sitting there a good long time. Sodden clothes clung to his gaunt body. Cut off at the knee, his left pant leg ended above the brown cast running the length of his lower limb.
Anger and pity battled inside.
Oh hell, she refused to feel sorry for him. “You violated me.” Her words sliced through the cool night air.
Max hung his head.
“Look at me when I’m talking to you.”
“I meant to seduce you,” he whispered into his chest. She almost didn’t hear him over gentle rain splatters on the leaves.
“Not then, you ass. After they shocked me with the collar. I passed out, and you raped me.”
His head jerked up. Life flashed in his eyes. “No, I didn’t.”
How could he lie to her face like that? “Then explain how the hell I got pregnant.”
His bold jaw set in anger. His green eyes blazed in the darkness. “No.”
“No? No? God, I want to kick your broken leg.”
“Go ahead.”
She took a step closer but couldn’t do it. “That would be police brutality.” It was a lame excuse, but she couldn’t think of anything better.
“You’re not a cop here.”
True. She’d get no justice in this place, and she wanted nothing more than to punish him. She dropped the lightstick and pitched an apple. It smacked him in the chest and bounced off.
He didn’t flinch. “Is that all you got?” His tone—iced with derision—sent molten blood through her veins. “Go ahead. Throw another one.”
She did. And then threw another. And another.
He didn’t move from his spot against the tree. Each time she hit him, he yelled for more. “Hell, woman, can’t you throw harder than that? Hit me. Hurt me!”
His taunts stoked her fury, and Max became the target for all the raw pain she’d felt since waking up in captivity. She hit him for violating her. She hit him for lying to her face. She hit him for the pregnancy. She hit him for her abduction, for the breeding box, for the Hyboreans, for being made a human pet, for her loss of freedom, for the loss of everything that made her who she was. It didn’t matter that he wasn’t her abductor. It didn’t matter that he, too, was held captive, forced to stud or risk punishment. What mattered was unleashing the white-hot anger pumping through her veins.
The apples ran out before her rage did. When her fingers scraped netted wood, she threw the empty basket at him. “I hate you! I wish they killed you.”
Max’s eyes closed. “Hell, woman. So do I.”
* * *
The woman sprinted away into the darkness. He made sure she was gone before he rubbed his aching chest. She threw hard. Her aim was spot-on, too. Not one damn apple missed.
He deserved it for not telling her the truth, but he couldn’t relive his shame. He wasn’t strong enough. Besides, it didn’t matter how she got pregnant. Nothing could change that fact now. All he could offer was a target for her frustration and hate. Physical exertion had a way of taking the edge off. Plus, beating on someone offered a rare sense of power and control on this world. It had helped him in the past. Maybe in some small way it helped her tonight.
The woman was a fighter. He used to believe that was a good thing. He used to believe it gave a person an advantage. It didn’t. Hyborea chewed up fighters and spat them out. Fighting merely wore a man down and delayed the inevitable.
One thing’s for sure, she was beautiful when fired up. So passionate. So full of energy and life. So like him in his younger years. Maybe that was why he couldn’t purge her from his thoughts. She reminded him of who he used to be when still naive enough to believe strength and courage would save him.
Hope was a fallacy. Nothing he had done had changed his fate. In the end, the masters broke him. Maybe she wouldn’t break right away either, but when she did—eventually everyone did—her defeat would be all the more unbearable. It would crush her soul like it crushed his.
He would hate watching that happen. With any luck, he’d be sold off before witnessing it.
How long would it take before they stripped the last bit of her humanity like they stripped the last bit of his?
How long could fire last in a world made of ice?
#
How much physical and emotional torture can these two characters withstand before fighting back? Find out
next week in Chapter 14. Or get the full book now at your favorite retailers for only $2.99.
Romance with a rebel heart
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