Sebastian has this bittersweet look on his eyes, almost like he's full of regret. "I made you breakfast, angel," he says softly, seeing my crazed expression. "You've been here a week now. You need to eat more." He holds up a plate of eggs and bacon for me. It smells delicious, and as much as I want to knock out of his hand, I know he's right and I do need to eat something. I take the plate gingerly, glaring at him the whole time. He gives me an apologetic smile as he hands me a glass of water next.

"How are you today?" he asks after a minute, once I've taken a slow sip of my water and started on the breakfast. From the dark circles under his eyes, he looks tired, like he hasn't slept in days. It occurs to me then that maybe he, in fact, hasn't. Maybe he has spent the last week waiting for whoever is after us, according to him. Maybe he's spent it protecting me.

I push the thought away immediately. I'm not an idiot. I know that was just a lie to make me feel safer, until he can do… whatever it is he wants.

I don't answer Sebastian right away. I just keep clenching and unclenching my fists, hoping for a way to get out of here safely. Eventually, I move to eat my breakfast, and I hate how much I enjoy it. Sebastian can cook, I'll give him that. I almost want to spit the egg on his face after all he's done to me and Ash, but I'm too hungry to give up any food, so I just keep eating.

Finally, I meet Sebastian's gaze. His eyes look so innocent and well-meaning it makes me want to scream. I hate how safe he makes me feel, even after he locked me up like this.

"Why are you here, Sebastian?" I hiss. I'm not going to trust him. Not after what he did.

Sebastian smiles sadly, looking at me like I'm a distant memory, an old picture that is just out of reach. "I'm here for you. I'm always here for you."

"But I don't want you here," I whisper. My dark hair hangs over my eyes, and I feel like I might as well be in chains by the way it feels to be next to him: like I can't get away. Like I can't ever escape him.

His eyebrows furrow. "Say the word and I'll leave. I love you, angel. I don't want to make you uncomfortable." His voice is quiet and singsong, innocent as it always is.

"Then leave," I whisper, biting back a tear. "Please. Just leave."

He reaches out a gentle hand to my cheek, but I push him off, not wanting him to touch me. He looks at me sadly, then nods. "If that's how you feel." He stands up then and starts to walk away. "Talk to you later?"

I glare at him, putting my fork down. "No. I mean, I want to get out of here." I gesture at my makeshift prison. "Let me out."

"I can't let you leave, angel," he says quietly, but there is a certain intensity to his words, a certain genuineness… like he really does care for me. "Not until I'm sure they won't hurt you."

"Who are 'they,' Sebastian?" I don't hold back my irritation, because of course he is just lying to me to get my trust. "Who is after me?"

Sebastian shifts closer to me, putting a hand on my cheek. I freeze, but this time, I don't pull it off. His hand is warm and rough against my soft skin, and I hate how his touch makes my skin tingle. I want to scream at myself for it, in fact, but I can't muster out even a single word. This all hurts too much. Being with him hurts too much.

Sebastian looks almost surprised by my question. "You really don't know anything, do you?"

"No," I say, shaking off the stupid lust I feel. I don't want Sebastian. I can't ever want him. Not after what he did. "Tell me."

Sebastian smiles distantly, shakes his head. He's not wearing a tux anymore. Instead, he's dressed in a simple t-shirt and baggy shorts. They look odd on him, for some reason. They just… they don't feel right. "They're bad, bad men," he says, not taking his eyes off of mine. "That's all you need to know."

"But you're friends with them," I press, wanting to catch him in the lie. "Right?" I'd seen enough crime shows to know that when bad men are after you, it's almost always because you were friends with them, then betrayed them.

"Right," Sebastian says, watching me curiously.

I sit up further. "You worked with them?"

"Once upon a time I did, yes." I search his eyes to see if he's lying. He definitely doesn't seem to be, which surprises me, because there is no way he's telling the truth, right? My gaze drops down to his cheek, then latches on the scar he's always had beneath his eye. Realization hits me.

"Do they involve that scar?" I ask, pointing at his cheek.

For a second, Sebastian stiffens up. He looks almost unnerved by my question, or at least taken aback. I can't tell which. But then it's gone as quickly as it comes, and his face slips into an easy smile. "That's enough now, angel. We'll discuss this more later. Okay?"

I take another bite of my eggs, but I don't respond.

We sit there in silence for a while longer while I eat my breakfast. I listen to the steady sound of him breathing, watch the rise and fall of his chest, the way he doesn't take his eyes off me for a second as I eat. His gaze is searing, and I hate it, hate him. I keep eating, listening to the hum of the heater above me and letting everything else fade away.

The room is dark, but peeps of morning light slip in under the door. If I listen hard enough, I can hear the chirp of birds above, too, and the steady patter of the night's rain falling down from their place in the trees. The whole place is peaceful, cut-off. I wonder where we are, why we're here, and if we'll ever get out. I wonder how Sebastian will know when these men will stop hunting him, or really who they are in the first place, if they're even real. I wonder why they want him, and more importantly, why they want me. I wonder what kind of connection Sebastian had to them. And then, I wonder where he got that scar from. I can tell, from the way he flinched when I mentioned it, that whatever it was, it wasn't pretty.

I think about who Sebastian is--really is. If he's not lying, then clearly he got mixed up with some bad people, but what did he do? And why did he betray them? And if he is lying, what will he do to me? Kill me? Leave me here? Torture me? What? And then, I think about Ash, now dead because I wasn't there to help her.

I push aside my plate it, my appetite evaporating. "Take it," I hiss.

Sebastian takes it, but he looks concerned. Fuck him. "Are you okay, my angel?"

"Stop calling me that," I say in a low voice.

"Stop calling you what, angel?"

My hands ball into a fast, and the anger starts pouring out of me. "Stop calling me that."

I need to get out of here, I tell myself. I need to get out of here! Sebastian is not a good person. He's a fucking murderer. He killed those men. He kidnapped me. He let Ash die.

I sit up, my stomach hurting. I can't take this. I need my old life back. I need to get beyond these walls. I need everything, but all I get is this--this prison--with the man who kidnapped me, the man who I used to think I loved.

My alarm must be pretty obvious because the next thing I know Sebastian goes into protective mode, reaching a hand out and stroking my hair. I shove him off. "No, Sebastian. No."

His forehead creases, and he looks genuinely worried. He's sure as hell a good faker. "Did I upset you?"

I hate how kind he looks. How innocent he looks.

A laugh bubbles out of me, one of those insane, throw-back-your-head kinds of laughs I've seen in movies. "Are you fucking kidding me?" I say, exasperated. "You locked me up here!"