Free Captivated (The Dragons) by Ella Elias Page B

right then. He'd gone off and done something stupid, but he'd inherited the wild inclinations, and he hadn't enjoyed any encouragement that he could even possibly turn out differently than his dad.
    He'd gotten affirmations that he was exactly his father's son and could only go on to become trouble. Maybe it would have been different if Grandma had been more patient.
    I sighed thinking about it, feeling even more deflated having turned my thoughts in that direction. She had her reasons for being cold, too. She'd lost... a lot because of Uncle Mickey.
    I bristled at the sound of my captor calling out to someone off in the distance, and another frown crossed my face. How long was I going to be here? This wasn't the time-out corner. Vinnie had gotten me into some serious shit this time.
    “Turn it up a few degrees, I don't think she's gonna use the blankets,” I heard him say, and despite my anger with him, I was relieved (and a fair bit warmer after another hour or so). The room temperature eventually leveled out around 70 degrees, and I was finally able to sleep, as a result.
    It didn't take me longer than fifteen minutes to fall into the void that opened up when my eyes slipped closed.

    ––––––––

I hated ringing the bell, well throwing the bell at the door,  but I did. I couldn't go without breakfast for a third day. It wasn't getting me anywhere, and I was weak. I felt like I was half-there, like someone walking between two worlds.
    A smiling, scantily clad bar maid opened the door for me, her pretty eyes assessing me with a glance. She didn't ask even one question when she unlocked the metal mesh.
    I stepped out from it, probably looking like death herself, and a sympathetic smile crossed her face.
    “It's better to play along,” she said, and when I didn't respond, she left her efforts at conversational advice at that.
    I followed her to the main door and out of it, my vision adjusting to the brighter lights of the warehouse hall beyond it. The bar maid checked for me, like she was turning to see if I was still standing, and I followed her down the hall to a door a series of steps that led us up a few flights, through a few halls, and into a lounge of some sort.
    I couldn't tell immediately if it was a commercial establishment, but it was certainly set up to hold a good amount of people. Money had been soaked into it for sure. I guess whatever that warehouse was making or holding was bringing in a pretty penny.
    The bar maid gave me another little smile as she led me to a table where several of the bikers were seated. He was sitting among them. And he said something to the rest of the group that had them dispersing as I approached. I could feel their eyes assessing me as they passed, but I didn't look up at them.
    Instead, I frowned deeply for good measure and sat down without even meeting his eyes.
    “What'll you have, babe?” The bar maid asked.
    I looked to her and shrugged.
    “You decide. I'm not picky.”
    She exchanged a glance with my captor before returning her smile to me.
    “We've got sugar-n-grits made. The cook even does fancy shit with tofu. Grab a menu if you want something else.”
    “Thanks,” I answered with a clear lack of commitment. I really only wanted my stomach to stop growling long enough for me to regain a clear head. That wasn't going to happen if I didn't feed my brain.
    “Sleep well?” My captor asked.
    I couldn't help myself and met his eyes.
    “What do you think?”
    I was angry with myself the instant I answered, but it was done. I'd engaged to an extent when I should have been keeping that to a minimum. I was far from a seasoned criminal, but I knew a little something about psychology and had zero intentions of building a rapport with any of these assholes.
    “You might be more comfortable in the bed.”
    I ignored his comment completely, warming at the sight of the bowl of grits making its way over to me.
    The barmaid, whose tag read “Sue” in embroidered