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Around five minutes after Catherine had stabbed me with what the hell ever, the pain had begun to slowly move out, like a poison-sucking sniper crawling backward through my veins, until all that remained was a burning numbness.
And the swollen agony of a d**k in need of service.
I'd rather have f****d myself before I'd ever ask for help with that, though.
Catherine could go f**k herself, too.
Using the time alone, I studied the room more closely. If I could get free of the shackles, which I'd been testing the resistance of since the others had gone, I was pretty sure I could master an escape. Hell, I'd have been prepared to squeeze my arse inside a sooty heating shaft, if it would've gotten me out of there.
I glanced toward the bathroom. Maybe that'd have windows without bars. Or
