Chapter 14
Fourteen
Harper
Livia’s tight-lipped smile is entirely her scheming. I’m just unsure what she’s up to. Bringing me here, into her mansion, the collar around my neck, I need to figure a way out of this—alive.
“Don’t take this the wrong way, but you stink.”
“Being drugged and thrown into a warehouse will do that to a person,” I snap.
She laughs under her breath and escorts me through the mansion on the main floor, down the hallway and to a closed door.
Livia opens it, flips on the light.
It’s a bathroom.
“Do us both a favor and get cleaned up.”
“You brought me here to shower?” I don’t buy it. I stare at her skeptically, and she slides her hand into her pocket.
“We can do this the easy way or the hard way.”
A jolt of electricity blinds me, rippling in waves through my neck, bringing me down to my knees.
It only lasts a fraction of a second.
A warning.
Unlike the last time when I ran, she was quick with the pulse, the pain.
Gasping for breath, my heart races, and I stare up at her, the devil. I grind my teeth, snarling, “Fucking bitch.”
Livia laughs and tilts her head. “You’re just now figuring that out? Well done, Harper. Get in the shower. Don’t make me ask you again.”
My fingers graze the necklace.
Water and electricity don’t mix.
“What about—” I finger the collar, tapping on the exterior.
Will she remove it?
“Don’t piss me off and you’ll be fine.”
She pushes me into the bathroom and shuts the door behind me.
There’s no lock, anyone can enter on a whim.
Great.
There’s a glass shower door and I open it, reaching for the faucet, turning the handle on and to hot, making the water the right temperature.
The bathroom is an interior room. There are no windows, no way to escape from inside.
I turn on the fan and then slowly open the main door, hoping I might be able to sneak out.
Livia glances up from her phone, raising an eyebrow at me.
“What about clean clothes and a towel?” I ask, doing my best not to seem like I’m up to trouble. I was hoping I might escape, but she’s standing there guarding the door like a hellhound.
“There are fresh linens in the bath closet.” She pushes past me into the bathroom, and to the left, there’s a small closet filled with towels and washcloths. A small chute sits on the interior wall inside the closet. “Toss your dirty clothes and towels down the laundry chute.”
Livia shoves me back into the bathroom.
So much for sneaking out unnoticed.
Even if I manage to escape with the collar on, how far would I get before she realizes I’m gone and jolt me?
How much distance do I need until her remote is disabled? Feet? Miles?
I don’t look at my reflection in the mirror. The bathroom has steamed, leaving a fog over the glass. Bending down, I open the cabinets under the sink.
Empty.
Perhaps if I break the mirror, I could use a shard as a weapon to get away.
There’s nothing to break it with, except my fist and a towel. Even the shampoo and conditioner containers are affixed to the shower wall, bolted in place.
Well, fuck.
I step into the shower, staring down at the dirty water curling around my feet. My shoulders are tense, my head throbs and the hot water dulls the ache for a few moments.
The shower is peaceful, tranquil.
I imagine it’s the last bit of peace and quiet that I might have.
The bathroom door breezes open. “Time’s up,” Livia commands, and the cold air rushes into the shower. I turn off the tap, having had barely enough time to fully cleanse every inch of me from head to toe.
Opening the glass door, Livia tosses the fluffy white towel at me, but not before giving me a once-over with her eyes.
“And what about clothes?”
She grabs my filthy ensemble that I wore to the bar and shoves it down the laundry chute. There isn’t enough space for a person to fit, I already checked.
“Come with me.”
I secure the towel around my chest, gripping it in the front with my hand.
My hair drips down my shoulders and back. The marble floor cold against my feet as I leave a trail of wet footprints in the hallway.
I obediently follow Livia, if only for the mere fact that I’m wearing that stupid collar and I don’t want another bolt of electricity coursing through me.
Not now.
Not ever.
Is that what it feels like to be tased?
“Where are you taking me?” I follow behind her across the hallway. She leads me to a room, it appears to be a bedroom, and opens the door, gesturing for me to step foot inside.
“There is a paper gown for you to put on. Our in-house physician will be with you shortly.”
“What?” My eyes widen in horror. “Absolutely not!”
“Do you think you get a choice?” she asks, staring at me pointedly. “We have to make sure that our girls are clean before being brought downstairs.”
Clean.
“I already showered.”
What the hell is she talking about?
Doctor. Clean.
I’m going to be sick.
It’s no secret that her husband trafficked women and children. “You want to test me for STIs.” It’s a logical guess and she smirks, tilting her head.
“Smart girl. We can’t have our clientele catching something from one of our girls.”
She reaches for my hair, fingering a strand. “Such a pretty young thing. It’s a shame you’re not a virgin. You’d have gone for a lot more than a married whore.”
I spit in her face, glaring at her.
She rips the towel from my clutches, her gaze inspecting my body as she circles me like a vulture. “It’s a pity you have stretch marks.” Livia’s fingers graze my skin, and I flinch from her touch.
“Do not touch me!” I seethe, snarling at her.
The smile never leaves her face. She’s not the least bit afraid of me, because she’s in complete control. “Or what, dear? You’ll scream. Good, many of my men like screamers. Remember that when they buy your time.”
“I’m not for sale.” My gaze moves over and across the room; there are no windows, no exits except for the door. The room doesn’t appear like a doctor’s office. There’s no medical bed or supplies in sight.
Instead, there’s a plush queen-sized mattress against the wall, a dresser and a desk lined opposite, and a door that, I assume, leads to a closet.
In the corner of the room near the ceiling, is a camera with a red light, indicating we’re being watched, likely by her security team.
Even if I could flee, there’s still the matter of the electronic device around my neck. At the very least, she’ll torture me if I attempt an escape, but is that worse than what I’ll be forced to endure if I stay?
Livia comes to stand behind me, nudging me into the room, her hand on my back, forcing me to enter.
“Given your behavior,” Livia says and stalks past me toward the bed where a paper gown is folded, she snatches it up. “Perhaps you’ll learn to show some respect.” She takes the gown with her along with my towel, leaving me naked as she slams the door shut.
“Wait!” I scream, pounding on the closed wooden door. The handle doesn’t so much as budge as I try to yank it open.
I’m locked inside.