4. Willa
Chapter 4
Willa
I slowly awoke, my head swimming and aching, my mouth feeling like it had been pasted shut. There was tightness and pain on the right side of my face that felt unfamiliar. What did I do last night? Did I get into a fight? Did Vanessa get me to drink too many rum and cokes again? I went to rub my aching head and was brought up short when I couldn’t move hand. My eyes shot open and I stared with shock at my wrists wrapped in some type of leather cuff and chained to the wooden slats of the bed frame.
Where the fuck was I? Anxiety and terror started to burst in my veins like pop rocks.
I suddenly remembered being at my sister’s place, flashes of what happened next rolling through my mind. The man who had broken the door down. Him threatening and restraining me, shoving a gag in my mouth and throwing me on the bed. Then I remember the strange way he stared at me, his dark green eyes focused and intent through the eyeholes of the mask, as he injected me with some drug to knock me out.
Jesus, what was this about? I tried to imagine what I might have done to someone to make them do this to me but came up empty. I’d lived a pretty boring existence before today, and I doubted someone would resort to something like this over aggressive driving or cutting in the bathroom line at a bar.
Then it hit me. Lily.
This had to be related to Lily. Of course. Had she known this would happen? I wanted to say no, but unfortunately it was all too easy to believe she had. Her unexpected generosity was much easier to understand in light of all this.
I looked down and found my ankles similarly restrained but was relieved to see I still had my clothes on. Unfortunately, I desperately needed to use the bathroom. There were two doors in the room, one of them most likely led to a bathroom.
Now, I just had to find a way to get out of these cuffs. I examined them and saw that they had simple enough buckles, I just couldn’t figure out a way to unfasten them. It didn’t take me long to give up on trying.
I lifted my head and looked around the room. It was fairly large, but windowless with pale gray walls and low, recessed lighting emanating from the crown molding. It contained the queen-sized bed I was currently shackled to, a nightstand, a large, wooden wardrobe with drawers at the bottom, and a couple of pieces of equipment on the other side of the room. I thought it was gym equipment at first but realized I didn’t recognize any of it.
A multitude of questions flooded my mind. Where was I? Was I somewhere other people could hear me? Should I yell? Would I get in trouble if I yelled? Would they kill me? Would he kill me?
The biggest question rattling around my brain was whether I should tell them I wasn’t Lily. Would they kill me immediately if they realized they had the wrong person? I imagine they would, considering the lengths they went to in order to kidnap Lily in the first place. Well, kidnap me.
I dropped my head back on the bed, defeat and depression overwhelming me. I had a feeling I was dead no matter how I played this.
Before I could completely sink into despair, the door was flung open and a man entered, presumably the man who grabbed me from Lily’s. His identity was confirmed as he walked closer and I saw the same intense, dark green eyes I’d seen glaring down at me in Lily’s apartment.
I would have considered him wildly attractive if I’d seen him in any other context but this. His dark hair was cut very short on the sides, but slightly longer on top and contrasted dramatically with his emerald eyes. His features were sharp and angular, and his nose had a slight bump, as though it may have been broken in the past. And he was huge, which I noticed when he barreled in the door at Lily’s. My eyes wandered his wide shoulders, strong, sleekly muscled arms and a lean waist all encased in a close-fitting, black t-shirt.
Yes, he was definitely hot. Stupid hot. I had a fleeting thought that he’d be wonderful to photograph, already imagining him in black and white and how the light would play off the harsh lines of his face.
Unfortunately, he was looking at me like I was practically demonic, his eyes narrow and cold, his mouth compressed in a tight line of disgust and disdain.
What the hell had Lily done to this guy?
He folded his strong arms over his chest and stared down at me. “I’m hoping we can skip the annoying bullshit where you pretend you don’t know why you’re here.” His husky voice sent chills through me, but I wasn’t sure if it was from fear or desire. Even his stupid scary voice was sexy. Why did he have to be so hot and terrifying at the same time?
“I’d…I’d like to know why.” Lily probably did know why, but I sure as hell didn’t.
His jaw flexed. “Okay, play it that way. We know how you set up Mac, how you got him killed. You need to tell us where your boyfriend is and what Mac found out about you two.”
I gasped, my eyes bulging, anxiety ricocheting through me like pinballs. Murder?
What the fuck, Lily!
“I…I…um, well, I…” I had no idea what to say. How did I defend what he thought Lily had done? What Lily could have truly done, because, honestly, this accusation was not as shocking as it should have been. Oh, god, should I just confess that I was her sister?
He leaned over me, his hands bracketing me on either side of my head. “That’s what I thought. There’s nothing you can say to defend yourself, so save your fucking excuses. Just give me the information I want. Who is your partner and what did Mac find out about you?”
I stared up at him, wishing I could give him something, anything , to get a reprieve but I knew practically nothing of Lily’s life, let alone the people she spent time with.
I was momentarily distracted by the clean, strong scent of some manly smelling shower gel. He must have just taken a shower. It smelled so good, I closed my eyes and slowly inhaled, looking to calm myself down in some way. When I opened my eyes, he was looking at me oddly, his dark eyebrows pinched together in a seemingly bewildered expression.
He suddenly stood up, his expression now forbidding and angry. “Don’t even try your bullshit on me. I’m not Mac. I won’t fucking fall for it.”
I opened and closed my mouth, wanting to ask what “bullshit” he was referring to, but feeling like he would be even more angry if I asked.
Once again, his arms crossed over his broad chest and his expression was about as friendly as a nest of rattlesnakes. “You have one minute to tell me what I want to know, then I start providing encouragement.”
Shit. Who the hell knew what that meant? Torture? Maybe. Probably. By his expression and considering what he was accusing Lily of doing—definitely. I didn’t know what to do. I was terrified he’d kill me if he realized I wasn’t Lily. I needed to stall. Somehow.
“Look, I’ll answer all your questions if you just allow me to go to the bathroom.”
He scowled at my request and cocked his head as if determining my sincerity, a fair instinct considering I was lying about answering his questions. His eyes felt like two laser beams boring into my skull and searching out my deceit. After a long moment, he moved to my restraints, apparently agreeing to my offer.
“I’d let you piss yourself, but I don’t want to have to clean that shit up,” he said, his cold, displeased expression practically making me wet myself before I made it to the bathroom.
I slowly rose up, stretching my sore, tight muscles. It was partly to stall for time, and partly due to genuine stiffness. How long had I been lying here?
I swung my legs over the side of the bed and gingerly put my feet on the ground. I rose slowly, as if testing my legs and their ability to hold my weight, acting as if I hadn’t walked in years instead of hours.
I heard an annoyed breath before a strong hand gripped my upper arm pull me fully to my feet. “Jesus Christ, you can walk.”
Well, that charade was over. He dragged me to the door that was presumably the bathroom and swung it open. It was a pretty basic bathroom—toilet, sink, and shower stall. It had little touches that made it a little less generic. An empty, wooden towel bar, a little rug in front of the toilet, a bathmat.
“Go,” he instructed, gesturing to the toilet.
I moved forward, hooking my fingers around the door to swing it closed, but was blocked by his hand shooting out to stop the door’s momentum. “No, keep it open.”
My jaw dropped and if it weren't for my demanding bladder, I wasn’t sure how long I would have stood there gawping at him. “What? You mean go to the bathroom with you just…standing there?” I asked in horror.
He snorted. “That’s exactly what I mean. You think I trust you to be out of my sight? No fucking way.”
I looked around the windowless room. “What am I going to do? Flush myself down the toilet?” I snapped, but when he took a menacing step toward me, I held up my hands. “Fine, I’m going.”
I blushed to the roots of my hair, a grimace of distress causing my lips to tighten. Could I do this? Pee in front of a stranger? My bladder answered with an enthusiastic hell yes for me. “Can you…Can you at least turn around?” My thighs were starting to press together as the urgency mounted. I was standing right next to a toilet, but the thought of him standing there watching me had me cringing.
He let out another annoyed sigh but did a three-quarter turn. “I’m giving you three minutes. Just so you know, I can still see you out of the corner of my eye, so don’t even fucking think of trying something.”
I hastily pulled down my shorts and planted myself on the toilet, urine rushing out of me in a desperate stream as I tried to contain my mounting humiliation. I wiped myself and stood up as quickly as possible. While washing my hands, I caught my reflection and nearly gasped at what I saw.
My hair looked like I'd been electrocuted, with blonde tangles standing a couple of inches off my head. I also had a dark bruise on my cheek bone just under my right eye from the back hand he’d given me back at Lily’s apartment. It was a stark reminder of the violence he was capable of when provoked.
“Thirty seconds.”
I quickly washed my hands and rinsed my mouth. I looked around for a hand towel and found nothing, opting to wipe my wet hands on my shorts. Oh, god, now that my need to use the bathroom was taken care of, I had no idea what I was going to say. Why didn’t I do some strategizing while I was on the toilet? I’d wasted all my time sitting there being embarrassed.
Dammit.
“Let’s go.” He roughly grabbed my arm and marched me back to the bed, forcing me to sit. He took a step back and stared at me with the same forbidding expression. “Speak.”
I took a deep breath, once again stalling, but also hoping to calm myself the hell down. I rubbed my hands on my thighs in a self-soothing gesture. “Okay, so you are looking for information about my accomplice and what your friend may have found out about our operation, or whatever misdeeds we might have been up to prior to his death, correct?” I asked, employing that old tactic I used in school with essays. Incorporating the question into the response to make it sound like you were saying more than you were. I don't think it worked then, and I doubted it would now.
His eyebrows once again slammed together and grabbed me by the throat, his hand tightening aggressively. “Are you fucking with me? You’re speaking like you don’t know what I’m talking about and I know damn well you do. Quit fucking stalling and start talking or you are going to be in a world of hurt, I promise you,” he threatened, releasing his grip on my throat.
I believed him. Maybe if I made up a name, that would pacify him, and I would get some time to think of how to get out of here. If I had just thirty minutes to regroup and think without distraction, maybe I could figure a way out of this mess.
“His name is…” My eyes widened and my hands started to sweat. I was blanking. I couldn’t think of anything. “His name is John.” John? Oh my god, I was so stupid.
My captor gave me a deadpan look. “His name is John? You’re a fucking terrible liar, which is a surprise considering how you make your money. This is your last chance.” He took a menacing step toward me, looking prepared to commit god knows how many atrocities on my poor body.
“You’re right. I was lying. I was trying to cover. His name is Daniel.”
His lips compressed in irritation. “Daniel who?”
“Daniel Zuko…wsky.” I’d just watched Grease with Vanessa last night and it was the only name I could think of. I think I had brain damage from the hit to the face or the drugs, because everything I was saying was insane. This guy wanted to kill me—well, kill Lily—and my brain was completely short circuiting.
He tipped his head back and stared at the ceiling, no doubt aggravated at another obvious lie. Instead of arguing with me, he grabbed me and dragged me to this X-shaped apparatus.
I hardly resisted because he moved so quickly. I barely knew what was happening. Before I could think, I was once again restrained, the front of my body strapped to this X thing, my arms above my head. Adrenaline started to pour through my system, as I considered all the terrible things that might happen to me in this vulnerable position.
There was a tug on the back of my shirt and cold metal skated up my spine as I heard scissors cut the fabric of my tank top. He snipped at the straps and threw the shirt on the ground. I didn’t even have a bra because I was wearing one of those tank tops that had it built in. I was now topless.
Oh god, oh god, oh god, this was bad. Nothing positive could come of him disrobing me.
I heard him opening the cabinet of the wardrobe and removing god knew what. Nothing good, I imagined.
He gathered my hair and shoved it over my shoulder. I jumped as I felt something tickling my back, like the end of a belt. I craned my head around and saw he held up some kind of whip. It didn’t take me too long to put the pieces together, sweat breaking out across my skin as image after image of my ragged, bleeding flesh paraded through my mind.
He was going to whip me until I gave him the information he wanted.
“You have thirty seconds to tell me what I want to know, or I start with this.”
There was absolutely no mercy in his expression. It was a good thing I’d gone to the bathroom earlier because if I hadn’t, I was certain I would be standing in a puddle of my own urine right now. That was how scared I was.
I stared at him again, searching for any signs of pity or reluctance to use that whip, but found nothing but complete determination and seething anger.
I needed to end this charade. I had to tell him I didn’t know anything.
He raised his hand, as I blew my thirty seconds lamenting my fear and deciding to come clean.
“Wait, I—” I said, my words ending in a scream as the whip lashed against my skin.
Agony, hot and overwhelming bloomed in the path of the lash, leaving a trail of fire lacing from my upper back to the top of my right shoulder. Tears instantly sprang into my eyes as my body tried to process the searing pain that was tearing through every nerve in my body. My knees buckled, leaving me to hang by my wrists.
“You have thirty more seconds.” His voice was hard, as if he was utterly unmoved by my obvious agony. Was he some kind of fucking psychopath?
I tried to formulate the words to say I wasn’t Lily, but all I could do was pant and try to process the throbbing pain soaring through my system, my ears only registering white noise. It wasn’t until I felt the bite of the whip once again land against my skin, centimeters from the previous strike, did I realize that, once again, my time was up.
“No! Stop!” I screamed.
“You have information for me?” His voice sounded gritty and rough, his arm rising in preparation to strike again.
I turned to look at him, wiping my sweaty forehead against my upper arm. I had to stop this, I had to make him understand I wasn’t Lily. I couldn’t take any more lashes. “Look, I don’t know anything. I’m not?—”
His lips tightened, and before I could finish the whip landed again. The leather tail slapped against the skin of my upper back, this time wrapping around my right side toward my breast. It felt like a blaze of fire against my skin. I was breathing heavily, panting, trying to orient myself, but unable to think under the pounding waves of hurt crashing over me.
“I’m not Lily. I’m not Lily, I swear,” I babbled out quickly, getting right to the point in a desperate attempt to stave off the next strike of the whip. For a moment, I heard nothing and imagined he was putting his whip down, planning to walk to me and release me from the restraints, perhaps even issue me an apology.
Instead, when I glanced over at him, I saw his arm rise.
“No, please,” I begged. My whole body tensed as I braced myself for the feel of the whip. Except there was no way to prepare for that feeling. This time it struck along my lower back and wrapped around my waist, leaving a visible welt above my front hip. I was getting so much pain input, my brain couldn’t sort it all out. As I sagged in the restraints, my thoughts scattered like dandelion spores. How did I get him to believe me? What was I going to do? Was I bleeding? Was he going to kill me?
I had to try again. “I swear to you, I’m not Lily. You have to believe me,” I rasped out, my throat bone dry.
When I turned my head, I saw his bleary features through the prism of my tears, his expression suddenly contorting to one of fury. He walked up behind me and wrapped his hand around my throat, leaning his mouth close to my ear. His t-shirt rubbed against the flayed skin of my back causing me to gasp in pain. “You think this is a fucking joke? You think I’m a fucking idiot? I don’t want to hear anything out of your mouth other than the name of your fucking boyfriend, you understand?”
“B-b-but…I’m not?—”
His hand covered my mouth. “No more!” he boomed. “I think you need some time to think about what’s in store for you if you don’t start cooperating.”
He quickly unbuckled my wrists, his strong arm wrapping around my waist as he practically threw me back on the bed face down. Just as quickly he had me once again shackled by my wrists and ankles. I was grateful for the position, lying face down, considering my topless state and the throbbing marks on my back.
“I think you need some time to process your situation. I won’t be so lenient next time I return.”
Lenient? Good Lord, I needed to figure out a way to make this man understand or I would be dead by tomorrow.