Strike ( Book 4: Stronger Series )

28. Strategy

He circled me. Like a lion prowling over its prey, his eyes dark with challenge and anticipation. My nails bit into my palms as I clenched my fists tightly at my sides, my shoulders straining from the tension coiling away in my body. I tried not to shiver, but it was so fucking cold in this room, the temperature a deliberate tactic to force my dependence on Darren's body heat to stay warm – among all the other tactics to influence psychological bonding.

From cold to warmth.

From starving to fed.

From dirty to clean.

From pain to comfort.

From fear to lust.

Even as I fought to deny it, even as I told myself over and over again what was happening so that I could maintain comprehension, it was getting harder and harder to fight the dependency. The physical and mental exhaustion were taking their toll, the trauma of every day weighing me down until I could barely reach the surface. I was breathing on borrowed time, and soon, that time would run out, and I would succumb. Because succumbing was the only survival tactic I had left. It was the suicide pill currently sitting in my back pocket begging for use, but I couldn't do it.

I had to make Darren earn my Stockholm Syndrome.

"Are you cold, princess? You look like it." Darren ran a knuckle softly down the side of my arm, his light touch drawing a shiver from my naked body.

He moved to stand in front of me, his suit-covered body blocking my view from the bed, the bed I wasn't allowed to lay in unless he gave me permission. My back ached from sleeping in that fucking cage for so many days I'd already lost track.

"I'm fine," I replied, my eyes locked on the buttons of his dark blue dress shirt and noticing he wasn't wearing a tie today.

He sighed like he was disappointed and walked over to the locked mini fridge he kept in the corner of the room. I didn't move from where I stood, even as he returned and stopped directly behind me. That was when I felt the sudden burst of cold water being poured over my head, drenching my hair and sloshing down my body.

I gasped as the cold penetrated my nerves, shooting down my spine as my shoulders hunched all the way to my ears. I could hear Darren toss the empty water bottle onto the floor and come back around to my front.

"That w-wasn't fucking necessary," I muttered as my teeth began to chatter.

A light slap to the face was my reward, my wet hair now clinging to my pulsing cheek.

"Watch your fucking mouth," he warned me, to which I said nothing, choosing to stand there and shiver in silence instead.

He chose to do the same as well, watching me in silence, his eyes raking over every frozen inch of me until they settled on the hardened nipples of my breasts. I knew what he was thinking before it even appeared on his face, and it only made me feel even more vulnerable than I already was. Making his next move, Darren began to undo the buttons of his shirt, revealing the smooth tanned skin underneath, the hard ridges of his abs and pectorals reminding me of all the lethal strength that came with that body.

He was tempting me with the vast warmth that body could provide. And I hated him for it.

Keeping his shirt and jacket on, he stepped toward me, taking my face in his deliciously warm hands. "Why do you insist on suffering when you know you don't have to," he asked, his voice soft as he tilted my mouth toward his.

"Why do you insist on complaining when you know you're enjoying this?" I replied through gritted teeth.

He gave me a small laugh before his thumbs wiped away the excess water from my face. "You won't last forever, Jaden. Deep down, you know how much you want to give in to me."