Locks in place.

I wake up slowly. The grogginess stays as I drift in and out of dream land.

When I finally wake, Jake is sat on the chair beside the bed. He looks sad, and he stares at the door as if contemplating running.

"Hey." My throat hurts when I talk. How long have I been out for?

His eyes flash to me and he covers the sadness. Hiding yet again.

"Hey. Are you real awake this time? Do you know who I am?"

He uses his thumb to point to himself, one eyebrow raised in question.

"Of course I know who you are Eddie!"

He looks shocked, then a little frightened.

And I can't hold it in any longer. I burst out laughing, and the action makes my face hurt. He looks angry now, and it only makes me laugh more.

"You're a fucker Christina!!"

Allowing my laughter to fade, I finally respond. "It's Christy. How long have I been out?"

"Two days..."

He must see the fear on my face.

"Don't worry. I had the doctor come round and check you. You're alright. You just need to rest. You'll stay here so I can make sure you're OK."

He looks at his feet. He's waiting for me to get mad.

"I'm not staying here Jake." I whisper the words.

"You need to rest Christina-"

"It's Christy."

"And you can't rest if you're travelling across the country now can you? I'll look after you."

I don't know if this is another way to keep me here or if he means it. He makes me ache.

I open my mouth to question him some more when there's a knock at the door. The newly fixed door!

Jake steps outside into the hall and a few seconds of mumbling later he returns with a tray.

The tray holds soup, water, bread and a flower.

He sits down beside me on the edge of the bed and as I reach for the tray, I realise I'm starving.

He pulls it away. Just out of my reach. I close my eyes. I don't know if I'm about to cry or scream bad words when I feel the spoon at my mouth.

I look up to see him smiling he holds the spoon to my mouth with the steamy red soup. I open and he slides it in, carefully tipping the spoon so that the soup slips onto my tongue.

It's delicious.

I moan my appreciation and he continues to feed me, his eyes darkening.

"Is it nice?" He leans in closer as he asks.

"Yes Jake. It's delicious. Try some."

He does. He gently puts the tray on the bedside table and slowly leans in towards me. He kisses me gently. So gently. His lips move against mine in a sweet embrace, and my chest tightens as he slips his hot tongue against mine.

His hands move into my hair and he pulls me closer. I whimper, ready for more.

And he pulls away.

"Jake?"

"You're right. It is delicious."

"You can't keep me here."

And that's all it took. The rose tinted glasses smash just as fast as his temper.

"Why can't I?" He roars. The tray flies as he jumps up.

"I will keep you. I won't fucking let you go. You're mine Christina! Mine."

I sit and watch as he blows up and I squash my need to hide. To run. Things need to be said.

"You can't keep me prisoner Jake. I won't make things easy."

"How the fuck else will I make you stay? Huh? Tell me! Because you keep fucking running away like every other Bastard female."

Jesus Christ!

We're getting somewhere.

"You shouldn't try to make me stay. You should want me to want to stay. Not force me. Treat me good. I'm a human and I have feelings. I'm not a damn toy!"

He freezes. His eyes widen as if in shock at my words. He already knows what I've told him. He just doesn't understand.

He breathes deeply before continuing.

"But I was treating you good Angel. Just. Just, right now. And you said I couldn't keep you." His eyes show betrayal. Hurt.

The lump forms in my throat. How can he think or feel that way. Does he not understand.

"No Jake. That was being gentle. Soft. While you intended on not letting me leave. That's not treating me good. It's a sorry case of misconception. I won't run, if I don't have a need to."

"I'll try-"

"I think we need to talk about the other women."

He looks away. Each wall of the room seemingly interesting. He looks everywhere except at me.

"Kitty wants to see you. I'll send her up. Give you two some time together."

And before I can even say anything. He leaves. Slamming the door behind him. I hear the locks click into place.

He's not ready yet. He can't believe me.

I'm still here because he's keeping me. Because he won't let me go.

Does he not believe I'd be here if he gave me a choice?

Looks like I'm his prisoner.

Time to force his hand...