Total pages in book: 82
Estimated words: 76572 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 383(@200wpm)___ 306(@250wpm)___ 255(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76572 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 383(@200wpm)___ 306(@250wpm)___ 255(@300wpm)
I narrow my eyes and let my useless arm flop to my lap. “What the fuck?”
“You can’t very well enjoy your prize if you can’t touch her, can you?”
11
CILLA
Every part of my body, from my face to my ribs, aches. The guards, angry I wouldn’t come along meekly, weren’t so gentle when they dragged me out of bed earlier. Hiding under the covers doesn’t offer much protection against meaty hands and steel-toe boots.
So here I am, covered in bruises, being offered up like a prize sacrifice to a dragon. A dragon with dragon friends who’d eat us all in a heartbeat.
I keep my eyes averted from where he’s shuffling around, no doubt trying to free his other hand from the zip ties. I don’t see the point, but then again, I’ve been the roll-over-and-take-it kind for a while.
Quietly, so I don’t alert him to movement, I test the door handle. Those bastards would lock me in, wouldn’t they?
It’s not enough that they humiliated me when they stripped off my clothes and when they punched and kicked me into submission. They had to make it clear I was nothing more than property to be traded.
The room feels colder than before, or maybe it’s the adrenaline crash from my beating.
I risk a peek at him and freeze. He’s watching me.
He’s angry, but I don’t think he’ll hurt me. Much. “Are you cold too?”
His eyes narrow to slits, and he gives his hand another jerk. The only way he’s getting free is if he breaks something. I don’t know enough about him to see if it’s his dominant hand or not.
I keep my eyes on him and slide to the floor to sit on the cold concrete. It keeps me out of range of him. Any minute now, he’s going to realize he can maneuver enough to grab the chair or the table in the center of the room. If he uses them against me, I have no way to fight back. Maybe he can McGyver a way to cut his other hand loose, and then I’d really be in trouble.
“Hey!” He shouts, and I jump. But he’s not looking at me. He’s yelling and staring around at the room's corners, hunting for the camera lens. “I didn’t agree to your terms. Get her out of here.”
I wrap my arms around myself and try to be smaller, insignificant. If I’m not here, I can’t be the target of his rage or someone else’s.
“I’m not done talking to you, Arthur!” he yells again.
When he’s speaking, he scares the shit out of me, but yelling, screaming, he’s downright terrifying. Like he’s one second away from ripping someone’s head off. All I know is I don’t want it to be me.
I feel his eyes back on me when no one comes after several minutes. I glance up and brace my chin on my knees. “I’m sorry about this. I don’t know when they will come back for me, or you, for that matter.”
“What do they want now? What does he want?” His voice is gravel, and I swallow against the way it rakes through me.
I shrug and watch him in the dim light. Since they brought him here, the room has been mostly dark. Now, with a bit of light casting shadows across his body, I can get a good look at him. “Why are you so calm?” It’s been bugging me for days. Why isn’t he worried about being stuck here, about dying here?
“Who says I’m calm?”
I wave at his body. “You look calm. Like you’re hanging out waiting for something to happen? I know they’ve been pumping who knows what kind of drugs in you. I can see you’re hard right now, so why aren’t you climbing up the walls for relief?”
When they load me up with drugs, for whatever test they feel like conducting for the week, I can’t resist any of them—from the ones that make me feel like a walking zombie to the ones that make me feel like I’ll die if I don’t get someone inside me. Of course, there was always a guard or chemist willing to help in any way I might feel the need during these experiments.
I watch him carefully, looking for the same signs I exhibit under the influence, but he’s still eerily calm. Like a cobra coiled and ready to strike the second anyone gets close enough. Maybe that’s it. He’s waiting for someone to inch into his perimeter. Give themselves up to his menace.
His eyes narrow at me again, and I tug my gaze away. I’m not about to be the volunteer mouse to be his next meal. He can’t reach me now, but it’s only a matter of time before one of the guards comes in to shove me into his arms.
I sweep my eyes around, from the door to him and back to the door. There’s nothing here for me to use to protect myself. Nothing here to help me escape. I’m in my underwear, for God’s sake. The second I get out of here, I’ll be a target to the others. The guards love to play with me, and my father has never stopped them from using me any way they feel.