Chapter 18
Angie was having the strangest dream.
In it, she wasn’t feeling that great. But it was fine because she had a really handsome, kind Daddy to take care of her.
Well, he was a bit bossy.
He kept telling her to drink. And he wouldn’t listen to her very reasonable requests not to.
“No! Won’t!” she snapped.
Her stomach didn’t feel good. Her head possibly felt worse and she didn’t want to drink or eat or think.
“All right, baby. If you don’t drink then Daddy is going to have to put an IV in.”
“Noo,” she grumbled.
“Then drink some of this.”
A bottle was held to her mouth and she took a few sips. Nope. Her stomach didn’t like that.
“Vomit!” she cried.
She was moved, something placed under her chin and she threw up the small bit of water she’d taken in. Then she lay back with a moan. Something cool touched her inner arm and there was a murmuring of voices and then a sharp prick.
She whimpered.
“Easy, baby. Daddy has you.”
“Daddy? I don’t like this. I don’t wanna be sick.”
“I know, baby. But North and I are going to make you all better.”
“I really know nothing about caring about someone. I think I should—”
“Stay where you are,” Daddy said firmly.
Wow.
He sounded so stern.
“Help me roll her over and then hold her there. She might try to move while I put these in her bottom.”
Huh?
She was carefully rolled over and the blankets pulled off her.
“No, cold,” she said with chattering teeth.
“Sorry, baby,” Daddy said. “This is to help you.”
Suddenly, her pants were pulled down and someone drew up her legs before warm fingers pushed the cheeks of her ass apart.
“Nooo,” she cried, tensing.
“Hold her,” Daddy said as something cool and wet was dabbed on her asshole.
Then she felt some pressure as something was pushed inside her.
“Nooo,” she moaned. Memories flashed back at her.
Bad, awful memories of Fergus doing something like this . . . only Fergus had hurt her.
It took her a while to realize that they weren’t hurting her. And she was already on her back with the blankets around her.
“Don’t cry, baby girl. I’m so sorry. I just need you to be better,” the voice crooned.
Not Fergus.
Fergus is dead.
“I don’t like that,” she cried.
“I won’t do it again if you take the pills when I give them to you.”
“Okay, Daddy. I will.”
“Good girl.”
Jared glanced over at North.
“How long has she been here?”
“Ahh, nearly forty-eight hours.”
“Has she showered? Changed her clothes?”
“No. She refused to.”
Jared ran his hand over his face. “This is a complete fuck-up, you know.”
North didn’t reply.
“We can’t keep her in here. It stinks. She needs to be in a proper bedroom with sunlight and fresh air and a bath so we can clean her.”
“So you can bathe her,” North corrected.
“You kidnapped her. You’ll help take care of her.” Jared took a deep breath in, trying to keep his cool. “I’ll take her, you carry her stuff.”
North nodded. “I’ll make a few trips. I have supplies in the closet.”
Supplies? Jared walked over and found the closet filled with things. “You really intended her to stay in here a while?”
“I was going to tell you about her. When I was certain you would handle it well. And once she’d . . . calmed down.”
Jesus. He’d expected her to calm down?
“It would be better if no one saw her, though,” North warned.
“Yes, I’m aware of that,” Jared replied. “I trust my men. But in no way do I want it to get back to Zander that we do actually have her.”
Angie drifted in and out of consciousness.
It was a nice dream with Daddy taking care of her.
But also a yucky dream filled with medication and sore tummies and hushed, grouchy voices.
She wasn’t sure how long that went on before she woke up feeling sort of like herself again. She glanced around.
Where was she?
This wasn’t her room at Zander’s. It wasn’t her room at her house. Memories assaulted her.
Wait. This wasn’t even the dungeon room that North had held her in.
This place was something else entirely.
Where was she?
Sitting up, she ignored her throbbing head as she glanced around. She was wearing a pair of clean pajamas. They were a pale pink color and so soft against her skin it was like wearing a cloud.
The urge to pee hit her hard and she pushed the blankets back, swinging her legs to the side. She glanced down at her arm which was sore. There was a bandage on her inner arm.
How had that gotten there?
She stumbled over to a door, hoping it was a bathroom. The carpet was soft and the furnishings looked expensive. It was a huge room.
The bathroom was just as incredible and she marvelled at the marble floors and gold fittings as she peed and cleaned herself up. She startled as she saw herself in the mirror. She looked so pale and thin.
After brushing her teeth with the toothbrush and toothpaste she found, she contemplated a shower. But what she really needed to do was figure a way out of here.
Moving into the bedroom, she tried the door.
Locked.
Then she tried the windows. They were locked too. And it looked like this room was on the second floor.
Shit.
Well, she was going to need to make a plan.
Right after that shower.