The metal cuff dug into her wrist whenever she moved. Her arm ached, her throat raw from talking.
Nicky sat on the edge of the bed, calm now in a way that terrified her more than his rage. A tray balanced on his lap: food, still steaming.
Her stomach growled. She hated that he heard it.
"Eat," he said simply, holding a spoon toward her lips.
Eliana turned her head away. "No."
His jaw flexed. For a moment, she thought he would snap again, but instead his voice dropped, cold and steady. "You didn't touch breakfast. You didn't touch lunch. You think I'll let you starve yourself here?"
Her lips pressed tighter.
Nicky's eyes darkened. He shoved forward, his free hand gripping her chin, forcing her mouth open. The spoon clattered against her teeth before he shoved it past her lips.
Eliana gagged, tried to spit it back out. She'd done that already, twice today.
But she was starving.
