63. Chapter 63
Arwen
By the time the knock comes, my mental shields feel a foot thick.
I put on a fake smile and open the door before I can second-guess myself. Vex is leaning against the doorframe with the most arrogant look on his face.
His smirk flickers as his eyes drop over me—leggings, T-shirt, nothing like what he wanted. It vanishes into a hard line. Arrogance replaced by something cold and hard.
“I told you to put on something silky,” he growls.
“Did you?” I tilt my head, forcing confusion and concern into my tone the way I practiced, letting my brows knit just enough. “I’m so sorry, my love. Maybe I’m tired.”
“It doesn’t make a difference,” he mutters, more to himself than to me. “They’re all just going to end up on the floor anyway.”
Gross. My stomach revolts, but I don’t let it show on my face.
He steps forward, reaching for me, and I decide the performance is over.
My fist snaps up and connects with his nose before I process the decision. There’s a satisfying crunch as he stumbles back with a strangled sound of shock, hands flying to his face.
Before he can recover, my knee comes up hard into his groin, and whatever he was about to say dies instantly as he doubles over.
Then I run.
That’s my big plan.
The corridor blurs into a series of turns and identical walls. My footsteps echo too loudly in the space, giving away every move I make. I don’t know this house well enough to navigate it, but I know I only need distance from Vex and then to find a way out.
I take a sharp corner too fast and barely register the movement in front of me before I collide with solid weight.
Hands grab me.
I hit the ground hard enough to knock the breath out of my lungs, and the impact sends a shock through my shoulder. I kick, twist, try to wrench free—but there are too many of them. Six sets of hands, maybe more, pinning me down.
“Keep her still,” someone says flatly.
“How disappointing, Angel.”
The voice cuts through the chaos above me. I stop struggling to orient myself. My head snaps upward as best I can in their grip, and I see Vex looking a little worse for wear.
Blood runs down his face in thin, careless streaks, matching the bloody tattoo on his temple. His grin stretches wide, almost delighted, like my resistance has turned into a game.
“No matter,” he says, almost amused now. “Easy isn’t fun. Take her to the basement.”
Hands tighten around me, and a bag drops over my head. The world becomes muffled darkness and sudden disorientation as cold metal snaps around my wrists in front of me—handcuffs locking tight enough that I feel the pressure bite into skin.
I thrash on instinct, but they drag me forward. The air turning colder as we move further underground.
When they finally stop moving, they yank my arms above my head, forcing me onto my toes before I realize they have secured me to something above me.
They pull my ankles apart next, snapping cuffs shut around both, robbing me of any chance at balance or leverage.
Then someone removes the bag, and harsh fluorescent light floods in.
Vex steps closer again, closing the distance until there’s barely any space left between us. I can smell the metallic tang of blood on him now, see it drying in uneven streaks across his face.
“You’ll stay here until you learn to listen,” he says like a scolding parent. His eyes don’t leave mine as he leans in further, invading what little space I have left. “You will mind me.”
His disgusting hands touch my face.
I pull my head back as far as the restraints allow and drive forward with everything I have left.
The impact is brutal. Skull against skull. Pain explodes through the bridge of my nose and forehead, but it’s nothing compared to the satisfaction of feeling his head jerk back with a sharp crack.
“You think I’d ever give you what you want?” I feel the restraints bite into my wrists as my body recoils from the force of it, breath catching hard in my throat.
Vex staggers back from the force, and blood spills faster down his face. It runs over his lips, into his mouth, and he pauses—almost tasting it—before he smiles again. Silver teeth coated in a dark crimson red.
“Oh,” he says, delighted, eyes brightening. “You are worth everything, Angel. I love your spirit.”
His gaze drags over me. “I can’t wait to break it.”
He turns without another word. The door shuts behind him with a heavy bang that leaves me alone in the harsh lights, suspended and vulnerable, the echo of his voice still taunting me in the cold air.