12. Chapter 12
Chapter 12
Martina
I ’m not sure if it’s just me dreaming, but I feel Vincent’s presence in my room a lot. I’m afraid to open my eyes to check in case he is in my room. But since the stomach pumping, there’s only be peace and rest. Even the usual nightmares of my family getting shot up haven’t haunted me.
What does haunt me are Vincent’s words to me while I was pretending to be asleep. Did he know I wasn’t?
Remember, you belong to me. Your body. Your life. All of you.
It’s fact. My life is in his hands, and I don’t know that I’ll have an opportunity to take my own. Is this the ultimate lack of empowerment? When my own life isn’t mine to take? What awaits me now?
I worry that Brady will be discovered. He wasn’t the one who delivered my meal, but what if someone saw him pushing the pills into the muffins? I hadn’t expected Brady to come back with anything the first day in port and was surprised to find the pills when I bit into the muffins. Dear, clever Brady! I had been cautious to eat the muffins as naturally as possible with the cameras looking on. I knew the pills would be sketchy, but I didn’t think they could be lethal.
What a lost opportunity. Maybe I can get Brady to get me some more? Death by poisoning sounds sweet compared to what awaits me with Vincent.
But Vincent and his crew will be watching me more closely. There’s a security guard in my room at all times. Either Misty or Xander. They work the 2am to 10am shift for Vincent. Vincent could have used one of his other goons and fellow rapists, but I haven’t seen any of them since I was lifted from the cage. I wonder if that’s on purpose? But surely Vincent couldn’t be that considerate.
“We can get you a more comfortable chair.”
The voice sounds vaguely familiar. I think it’s Vincent’s personal assistant, Ming.
Why would I need a chair? Am I not lying in a bed?
My lashes flutter open a little, but I shut them immediately upon spotting Vincent near the window opposite me. How long has he been sitting there?
“This chair is fine,” he replies to Ming.
“Still have that headache? I can get Suyin to put some needles in you.”
“It’s not that bad.”
“I’ve heard that one before. You said that the time you broke seven bones in your hand and right before you blacked out from a concussion. You don’t have to suffer, you know. It’s not going to bring her back.”
“Fuck you.”
Bring who back, I wonder. His mother?
It’s strange to hear that Vincent has a headache. It’s a common enough ailment, but there’s a part of me that views Vincent as almost invincible. Being born an Alpha, he already won life’s lottery. He’s getting away with the murder of my family. Nothing seems to touch him.
“At least you should sleep in your own bed more. Misty or Xander are perfectly capable of informing you if she wakes up.”
Vincent’s been sleeping here? Why? Does he want to torture me so badly that he can’t wait a few seconds?
“If you keep lecturing me like I’m a child, you’re getting thrown off the boat.”
“Let me know when you want to talk to Jose. I received a report that he has an opportunity to take out the head of the Cohen sex trafficking ring.”
Is the Black Dragon Triad considering sex trafficking? They used to do that kind of stuff, but seemed to stop when Vincent took over. I remember the conversation I overheard in which it sounded like Vincent’s people had discovered a group of women being sex trafficked. Except it almost sounded like they were trying to help the women. Vincent was giving instructions over the phone to someone and mentioned an organization, Mano Amiga , that sounded like a nonprofit.
“Make sure they’re fed and clothed before you turn them over to Mano Amiga ,” I remember Vincent saying. “I bet a lot of the women are malnourished.”
The idea that Vincent has a kind bone in his body is counter to everything I know about him.
After Ming leaves, I can feel Vincent’s stare on me. I’m not feeling as tired as before and want to open my eyes, but I don’t dare with Vincent there.
Why doesn’t he leave? I get that he wants me to live so that he can torture me more. Death would be a victory for me, and he doesn’t want me to win. But doesn’t he have better things to do with his time? I’m not going anywhere.
Under Vincent’s watchful gaze, I drift back to sleep. When I wake, the room is dark but there’s a faint light sneaking in from around the blackout curtains, suggesting it’s day outside. Beneath the blanket covering me from neck to toe, my joints are stiff and my body sore from being strapped in one position for too long. I try to shift but freeze when I hear the sound of someone moving.
Is that Vincent or one of his bodyguards?
I pretend to be asleep again when steps approach.
It’s Vincent. I can sense it and feel myself growing warm. Dammit. My body has betrayed me in so many ways. It won’t die when I need it to, won’t stop responding to my mortal enemy in the most horrifying ways…
Luckily, the doctor comes in. After checking the heart rate monitor and looking over some notes on the clipboard, he turns to Vincent. “Her vitals have been stable this whole time. You asked about moving her, and I don’t see any issue with that.”
Oh no. He wants to move me back into the cage.
“Should we try and wake her?” Vincent asks. “She hasn’t eaten in days.”
I’ve been out for that long? If only I could have slipped peacefully into death during that time.
“It’s not bad that her stomach got to rest this much after the poisoning,” replies the doctor. “As long as she’s hydrated—and she is thanks to the IV—I’m not that worried about her eating.”
“But she’s lost a lot of weight.”
For some reason, I blush at the thought that he’s noticed.
“You think so?” the doctor asks.
“Obviously so.”
“Well, your powers of observation have always been better than mine. Let me know when you want to have her moved.”
After the doctor leaves, I wonder if I should have taken the opportunity to say something to the man. I had assumed he was part of the triad, but what if he isn’t? What if he’d be willing to help me out ?
Now I’m alone again with Vincent. No. His bodyguard Misty is probably standing near the door. I heard her clear her throat at one point.
Vincent hasn’t moved from where he stands beside my bed. He’s staring at me again. I can feel it. What does he intend to do?
“I know you’re awake, pet.”