She felt the wheelchair stop on the other side of the bed. He arrived. He said nothing. He didn't move.
The silence stretched, oppressive, unbearable.
What does it feel like, knowing full well the man beside you is dangerous, and being completely helpless to do anything but lie there and let him decide what happens next?
Isla gritted her teeth, rigid on the bed, trembling head to toe.
Grayson stayed silent, seated in the wheelchair, watching her small, tense outline on the bed. The pressure radiating off him alone was enough to demolish whatever composure she had left.
Whirr. A soft, mechanical sound.
The automatic curtains, sliding open.
Isla couldn't read him at all. She stayed dead still, praying he might assume she was asleep and let her off the hook for one night.
"If you're a
