She still needed to break the sheetrock off the studs and somehow manage to remove the lock mechanism, holding the door shut. The amount of pain from only using her hands made escaping seem like an impossible task.
Behind her, the back door opened and shut. She stiffened, not even looking behind her.
Keenan came and went when he wanted, locking her in the house. He no longer left a biker outside. It was as if he, too, believed it was impossible for her to escape.
"What happened?" He approached her.
The warmth of his body heated her back, thanks to the thin t-shirt she'd stolen out of his dresser. She was tired of wearing the same clothes every day.
That morning, it had become clear to her that she'd lost track of how many days he'd kept her at the house.
He grabbed her shoulders and turned her around. Dripping water on the floor, she stood while he inspected her fingernails.
Without any tools, she'd used her bare hands to pry the wood. There wasn't a knife left in the house. He'd removed them all. The spoons and forks had bent when she'd tried to use them.
"Come on." He held her wrists and led her to the door going into the garage.
Stepping down onto the concrete floor, she ignored the coldness on the bottom of her bare feet. It was the first time he'd taken her out of the main part of the house.
She gazed around, studying everything in the two-car space. There were tools galore. Bike parts stacked on top of each other. Even shovels, rakes, and a snowblower. Any of those things would've broken down the front door.
Keenan pulled her through the walk-through door at the back of the garage. She stepped out onto the grass in the backyard. It was the first time she'd had a look at the house. She gazed over her shoulder. It was a nice house. Nothing fancy or upscale but a sturdy single-story with rock halfway up the sides of the building.
She ran into Keenan's back and braced herself as her body wobbled to find balance.
Keenan removed a key from his pocket and opened a door to the front of the pole building. Once inside, he turned on the lights and let go of her. Afraid he'd change his mind and take her back to the house with no way of escaping, she refrained from questioning him.
If she was patient. If she was smart. If she could see a way out, she'd run.
The beat of her heart echoed inside her body at the expanse of space inside. She blinked, not understanding what she was seeing. There was a pool and weights—many weights like the kind you see at a fitness center. Large ropes hung from the ceiling in the corner. On the wall to her right, there were several machine guns or rifles or shotguns. She couldn't tell the difference between the weapons even if she could think properly.
Instantly, she thought of grabbing one of the weapons and shooting her way to freedom.
Against the bottom of the wall were several wooden crates. She could only guess what they contained. She suspected they were filled with ammunition for the thirty or so guns he'd collected.
Energized at the possibilities, she quickly scanned the entire room. To her surprise, there was a swimming pool on the other side. Going by the size and style of the house, she never would've imagined he had such a fancy gym in his backyard.
"Get in the hot tub while I swim." He pulled her toward the pool. "You can't leave, so don't even try."
Stripping off his leather vest, he folded it in half and dropped it on the concrete floor. She stared at the way he flexed his limbs. The oddness and surprise of the building left her incapable of moving.
He had hidden a fitness center/bug-out room under the disguise of a pole building in his backyard. If she hadn't of come in with him, she would never have thought to look inside.
Keenan stripped off his shirt. His pectoral muscles flexed, dancing in front of her.
His broad chest, covered in tattoos, reminded her of when she'd walked up to the cabin, and he'd kidnapped her. He'd been naked that day.
She shivered, hating herself for finding his body attractive when she despised him. His perfect body and confidence roused her. She was tired of fighting and thinking and crying and worrying every second of the day and night.
He dropped his jeans. The material puddled at his feet, stopped only by his boots.
She lowered her gaze as if she looked forward to getting another glimpse of his massive cock. She. Definitely. Did. Not.
So what if he was an anomaly? Her profession dealt with animals, often going extinct. Not humans.
He toed the back of his boots, pulling his feet out of the shoes. "Get undressed."
She shook her head, dragging her gaze up. His eyes flared with awareness of her watching him, sending a shiver down her spine.
"Do it, or I'll do it for you." He raked his fingers through his bushy beard, then lingered with his hand on his chest.
She swallowed. The ease at which he could walk around nude fascinated her as much as scared her. While he carried no gun, no knife, no stick, no weapon to hurt her. His dick was a lethal weapon. His hands were dangerous.
And as she'd found out, his mouth had the ability to wound her.
He stalked forward. She backed up. Under all those whiskers, his mouth thinned until it disappeared in his beard. She turned and lunged for the door, looking for a way to escape him.
His hands landed on the door, slamming it shut and tearing the knob out of her hand. He pressed his body against her back, plastering her against the door. Panic swept through her.
Keenan put his lips on her ear. "Just remember, I gave you a choice."
His hand landed on her hip. She stiffened, realizing his intent.
"Please. Don't," she whispered, squeezing her eyes shut as he shoved her shorts off her waist and down her legs.
Air hit her ass at the same time he pulled her shirt over her head. Then, with deft fingers, he unclasped her bra, and her breasts fell free.
He growled in her ear. "Now, get in the spa and wait for me to finish."
When she remained pressed against the door, he smacked her ass, making her jump. She quickly covered her breasts and squeezed her thighs together.
He motioned with his chin. She marched forward, aware of his gaze wandering over her naked body. She clamped her teeth together. If he were comparing his perfectly fit body to her softer body, he would find her lacking.
Her thighs were squeezable and jiggled when she ran. While her waist indented, she had a roll when she sat. Her breasts were too large for her frame, and thanks to puberty making them grow at a fast rate, she had slim white stretchmarks near her armpits. She wasn't perfect, and she never pretended to be.
Her body flushed, knowing he could see all the imperfections that she chalked up to her unique DNA, but he probably couldn't see that.
Never in her life had she felt the level of hate she had toward him.
At the end of the pool, she stepped down into the partitioned hot tub and dipped until her shoulders were below the surface of the water. She wasn't going to give him the satisfaction of ogling her.
She lifted her head to find out if he was looking and caught him diving headfirst into the pool. For several minutes, he remained below the surface, only his arms breaking above the water.
She hoped he'd drown.
Pushing off the molded seat and the restraints of the water, she stood. Naked or not, she would run down the main street of town to get attention to what was happening to her.
She stepped up on the seat and grabbed the edge of the pool. Adrenaline flowed through her, urging her to hurry.