Trey licked at the blood that collected at the corner of his mouth. Further attempts to untie himself using his teeth had given his dry lips a split; the evidence of it the coppery taste on his tongue. He was sure he also had rope burns where it had rubbed against his cheek, but the stubble growing would cover that.
He glared at the rope in frustration. The damn thing wasn’t budging. Only a few strands had broken off, not enough progress to give him hope.
The one around his ankles was equally uncooperative. Trey’s fingers and nails were rubbed raw with a few, even bleeding because of how hard he had tried.
His elbows and hips also hurt from all the wiggling he had done, like a worm, to move from his usual spot to the wall where he had hoped to find anything to help him get through the
