Chapter Thirteen
Chloe
“Ready?” A voice startled me.
After hours of being left alone in the cell, staring at dried blood on my hands, he was the last person I wanted to see. Ivar unlocked the cell door, swinging it open, waiting for me to move. His expression made me wonder if he was waiting for me to run so he could chase me like an animal.
I bet that would have brought him joy.
This man was twisted, maybe even more than the others I’d encountered here. He was waiting for an excuse to end me, and without Zane around, anything could happen.
After everything that had happened, it was beyond me how I kept relying on him—a man who had proven to be just like any other, maybe even worse. And why? Because he helped me before? Look where that got me.
“Ready for what?” I asked, not expecting an answer, just trying to buy time to think about my next move.
“You have to come with me. Now.”
His tone was growing impatient, with an edge of irritation to it.
“Where?” I asked with no intention of getting up. If he wanted me to move, he’d have to come and make me.
“Don’t make me go in there, Chloe,” he warned, his voice low and menacing, but there was something else there too, as if he was forcing himself to stay calm.
I also noticed it was the first time someone here had used my name. Like he was somehow trying to humanize me after locking me up like a wild animal. Progress, but I still didn’t move, just stared at him. That was my first mistake, underestimating a man who used violence as his main language.
He stormed in, and with two long strides, he was towering over me. In one swift motion, he dropped to my level, gripping my hair, yanking it back until my eyes were forced to look up at the ceiling. I hissed in pain, but wasn’t about to give him the satisfaction of hearing me scream.
“We can do this the easy way or the hard way. The choice is yours,” he rasped, tightening his grip enough to make his point clear. “But we’re leaving.”
“I don’t trust you! I won’t go anywhere without Zane!” I shot back.
“I don’t trust you either, so at least we have that in common. So, are you going to walk?”
I glared at him, defiance still burning in my veins despite the fear.
Then, footsteps approached, my eyes instinctively trying to follow the sound though my head was still trapped in his grip. Two men walked in, their expressions blank and focused, reminding me of soldiers.
Without hesitation, they replaced Ivar, forcing me down.
“Let go of me!” I gasped, panting and kicking wildly.
The more I fought, the tighter their grips became until they had me pinned, making it impossible to move at all.
Ivar stood in front of me, pulling a small box from inside his jacket. When I saw the syringe in his hand, my heart sank into the pit of my stomach. My legs suddenly felt weak.
No, no, no, no.
“Hold her still,” Ivar instructed, leaning in, aiming the needle at my neck.
“Please, don’t—” I cried out, my voice breaking.
He paused, his head tilting, his cold green eyes studying me carefully.
“I—I’ll walk. I’ll go with you,” I continued, desperation lacing every word. I wasn’t just telling it to him; I think I was telling it to myself too.
The way he was about to take away my last shred of control horrified me in ways I couldn’t put into words.
I didn’t want to obey him, but I also didn’t want to be manhandled by these monsters.
It was enough. At least, I wanted to know what they’d do to me.
If I could have nothing else. I needed to have that.
He smirked, almost taunting. “Good girl.”
He stood, putting the needle away, and without him having to spare a word, the men released me and walked out, leaving us alone again. I sucked in a sharp breath, preparing myself for whatever came next.
Then he extended his hand to help me up as if nothing had happened.
I wanted to kick him in the balls and run, but if I wanted to stay alive another day, I had to swallow my pride and do as he said. For now.
After he led me out of the cells, I followed his every move until we reached what looked like a garage. Inside sat an SUV similar to the one that had brought me here. Ivar slid into the driver’s seat, while another man forced me into the back before taking the passenger seat beside Ivar.
I kept my mouth shut, paying attention to every road and turn, memorizing everything so I could use it later if I ever had the chance.
After what felt like a lifetime in the car, with my heart hitting impossible speeds with every passing moment, we finally came to a stop by an imposing black metal gate.
Stone brick walls protected whatever lay on the other side, and anything else around was just a curtain of tall trees and dense bushes.
I was so tired, I wasn’t sure how much longer I could keep my eyes open. The sun was beginning to rise, which meant I’d spent the entire night in a surreal state of survival mode.
A few seconds later, the metal gate creaked open, and I forgot how to breathe as the car rolled through the open entryway.
Following the long driveway was a garden.
All green, dotted with a few bushes here and there, but I couldn’t spot a single flower; it was beautiful, vibrantly green, yet somehow lifeless.
The car moved along the cemented path until a huge house came into view.
No, it was more than just a house; it was a two-story, Gothic mansion piercing the sky.
Something cold slid down my spine. I’d expected to sit and rot in that filthy cell, men taking turns on me, breaking me, until they realized they’d made a mistake far too late for it to matter.
Instead, they brought me here, a nice-looking house that could easily be worse than any cell and all I could do was wondering if this was where Zane lived…
or if this was where we parted ways forever, passing along so I’d be someone else’s problem since I didn’t even know if he was alive at this point.
As the car approached a roundabout featuring a stone fountain at its center, it circled smoothly before coming to a stop.
My gaze looked right, trailing the stairs that would lead to the entrance of the mansion.
Two men dressed in black, exactly like the others at the warehouse, instantly emerged from the grand double doors, standing on the stone porch like statues, waiting.
Ivar stepped from the car, and I waited for him to open my door. When he did, I jumped out, deliberately avoiding his touch. But my body froze midway, unable to stop myself from admiring the castle-like mansion in front of me.
It was made of white and gray stones, decorated with crafted windows perfectly aligned, all facing the grand driveway where we stood. It was both beautiful and glorious under the sunrise. I felt painfully small, a sensation jolting me back to reality.
There’d been times in my life when it had felt as if the world was slowly fading, or maybe it was me who was fading.
Times when the void in my chest had been so deep that it threatened to swallow all my hopes and dreams at any moment.
I was feeling the same now, overwhelmed by the gaze of the men surrounding me, all waiting and watching.
The unknowing was slowly killing me. I had no idea where I was or who might be waiting for me on the other side of those doors.
And I was too tired to care; I just wanted to get this over with.
Ivar turned, heading away up the stone steps to the front doors, opening one for me. He didn’t have to use words for me to know he wanted me to follow him in. I trailed behind, gripping Zane’s jacket against my chest, somehow finding comfort in his scent.
“Ivar! Good Lord, I was so worried—” A woman with short, curled, gray hair rushed toward us through the long, wide, and elegant entryway. “And who is this poor thing?”
She reached for me, but I instinctively stepped back.
I was surprised and maybe a bit relieved to see another woman after everything. But I was so tired of being touched and pushed around that I didn’t want her touching me too.
“Clarisse, this is Chloe,” Ivar introduced, his tone surprisingly respectful. “Please take her to the guest room.”
Guest room? I will have a room?
“She’ll be staying until Zane returns,” he continued.
The thought of Zane coming back made my heart leap.
I knew I shouldn’t have been happy about it but couldn’t help it either.
Clarisse nodded repeatedly at Ivar, taking in his every instruction.
Although she seemed worried, she didn’t look a bit fazed by me—a stranger, wrapped in a jacket four times my size, dirty and with dried blood all over me.
She must have been used to these situations; clearly one of them.
Yet, she still looked more human than all the men combined. Maybe, just maybe, I could convince her to help me escape this place.
“Don’t even think about it,” Ivar said, cleaving through my thoughts, snapping my attention back to him. As if the idiot could read my mind.
“What are you looking at? I didn’t ask for any of this!” I snapped, frustration bubbling over. “I just want to go home!”
“Not going to happen.”
No shit, Sherlock.
As my eyes drifted down, I noticed a gun tucked into his waistband. If I’m fast enough...
“Ivar, should I take her now?” Clarisse’s sweet voice pulled at my attention, something in her tone suggesting she was intervening on purpose.
“Yes, get her out of my face.” He waved his hand dismissively, striding outside taking the gun away. Damn it.
“Come with me, Chloe.”
I cast one last glance at Ivar before following Clarisse toward a majestic staircase on our left, then I followed her all the way upstairs.
A bedroom…
At least it sounded better than a dungeon.