Black Pawn (Michael Cailen Book 1) Read Free Page B

be
overkill.”
    “What are you, a hospital?” she replied snidely.
    “No,  but I tend to get injured a lot.  If you're gonna be
snotty about it, I don't have to give you anything.”
    “Vicodin is fine,” she said without the attitude.
    He reached into the bag and pulled out a bottle, like you
would see in the pharmacy behind the counter.  He showed it to her so she could
see what he was giving her.
    “What did you do, rob a pharmacy?” she asked, not really
expecting an answer.
    “Yes.” He opened the bottle and handed her a pill.
    She was a tad stunned at his admission.
    As he brought her a glass of water, she couldn't help think
what a mystery this man was.  One minute he's saving her life, the next he's
kidnapping her.  He treats her like a guest in his place, if you want to call
it that, then cuffs her to a pipe.  One moment he's hitting her in the head,
and the next he's bandaging her ankle and giving her pain killers.  She
couldn't make heads or tails of him.  She took the glass of water and downed
the Vicodin.
    He took the empty glass from her hand.  “What's your name?”
    She didn't really want to answer him.  She didn't trust him
and still wasn't sure what exactly he wanted with her.
    “My name is Michael.  What's yours?” he asked again.
    “Jessica,” she reluctantly responded.
    “Jessica what?”
    “Rollings,” she lied.  She wasn't about to tell him her real
name.
    “Jessica Rollings?” he repeated with a raised eyebrow.  He
could tell she was lying.  She was terrible at it.  “Well Jessica Rollings,
where do you live?”
    “On Benton Street, not far from the cafe.”  Another lie.
    “Well, in a few days you should be back home, Jessica,” he
also lied.  He had no idea if she would be able to go home.  He had to find out
where she really lived and it was clear she wasn't going to tell him.  He'd
have to find out another way.
    He stood up. “Do you still want Chinese?” he asked with a
condescending smile.
    She clenched her jaw and turned away, frustrated that he had
played her.
    “I warned you.”  He walked towards the door. 
    “I'll be back in about an hour.  Stay put,” he said
sarcastically.
    After he left, she cursed at herself.  She had underestimated
him.  The Vicodin started to kick in and she felt tired.  She wasn't in a very
comfortable position.  The pipe ran behind the futon, so her arm was stuck high
up on the back of it.  It was impossible to lie down and difficult to find even
a comfortable sitting position. Especially while still trying to hold the ice
pack to her head. She was tired though and leaned her head on the back of the
futon.  She closed her eyes and soon drifted off to sleep.
    When she came to, Michael was already back, eating the Chinese
food he had brought with him.  She managed to sleep through the squeaky metal
door opening and shutting as well as Michael putting the table and chair back
in place.  The drugs must have really put her out of it, she thought.  He heard
her stir and without even looking, asked if she was hungry.
    “Yeah,” she replied.
    He grabbed an empty plate from the table, filled it with
food and placed a fork on it.  “If this food ends up anywhere but your mouth,
you will not be offered any other food while you're here. Are we clear?”
    “Yes.  I'm a little old to be playing with my food.” 
    His tone irritated her.  He had an arrogant and domineering
way about him.
    He placed the plate in her lap and went back to his meal on
the table.  She was starving.  She hadn't had anything but coffee in the
morning and with all the shooting and kidnapping she missed lunch.  She looked
at her watch, it was almost 5:00 p.m.  Where had the time gone?  She ate
everything on her plate and asked for a glass of water.  Michael had already finished
eating and put away the leftovers.  He sat next to her on the futon and turned
on the TV.  She felt strange sitting on the futon, watching TV with