Yes, anything, yes"***The backhanded slap had knocked her out cold. Her head was still fuzzy at the edges, but she now knew what was happening. And ...here she was. When was the last time she had been in this cellar?He had made some adaptations, to put it mildly. She was in stocks - improvised from a workbench and too tight around her neck and wrists. She was facing the walk-in cupboard, so the main cellar door was to her right. There was something sharp under each foot, so she was forced. "Can you spend a night with me?" I asked."A night?" Yes, a night." No." Why not?" What am I going to say to him?" Pick a day he's traveling." He'll call home." Tell him you are staying at a friend's." Let's talk about something else." Are you happy?" I asked her once."That's a fucking awful question to ask someone." I know." I drown myself in books. I read for six, eight hours in a row, then stop for a few minutes and start to read again. I read so much that is makes me physically nauseated.. More

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