“I think you broke my foot. So no,” I said. As he drove, I made the decision that I would fight for my life. But, I needed to give James a false sense of my weakness. My foot wasn’t broken. Severely sprained, but not broken. James grumbled as he stomped to the other side of the car. He hefted me over his shoulder and walked me to the shack. Inside, he flopped me on a rinky-dink bed. He uncuffed my wrists and pushed me onto the bed, cuffing my one wrist to the bed frame. Using another pair of cuffs, he cuffed my other wrist in a similar fashion. James gave me a parting glare as he left the shack to get the food.
Once he left, I looked around the cabin. It was one huge room with a basic kitchen and the bed that I was currently laying in. Other than the main door, there was one other door that led out the back way by the kitchen. I wiggled my hands and felt that the bed frame was fairly loose.
James came stomping back into the cabin and put the food on the kitchen table. He popped open a beer and lit up a cigarette. “This will be nice, Isabella. We can reconnect. I’ll help you remember the wonders of me. We always had such fun in bed, baby. My little slut. You loved it rough.”
I kept my mouth shut and stared at a water stain on the ceiling. James didn’t care for my silence and he jumped on top of me, pinning me to the bed. He pulled up my dress and put out his cigarette on my stomach. “Fuck!” I screeched.
James glowered at me and removed my cuffs. He pushed me on the ground and cuffed my hands around the bottom part of the bed frame. “Fucking bitch. Stop whimpering. I’m trying to sleep,” he snarled as he rolled over on the bed, leaving me on the ground.