Chapter 8
SUNDAY
It turns out that private jets aren’t that comfortable.
Santiago tied me to the chair in some kind of restraint that cut into my ribcage. At least he allowed me to take a pee first, despite keeping the door open and watching me the entire time. It appears I have no privacy where he is concerned, and it’s degrading as hell.
I was given a bottle of water and a blindfold once again, and the only saving grace of that is I can’t see his ugly face.
Throughout the flight, he slid his hands all over me. Kissing me, slapping me, groping me, and threatening me, but not forcing himself on me. That’s one thing at least.
I got no sleep or food, merely water and his attention.
When we land, I am so hungry I may pass out and welcome it.
Once again, we are met by a car and as we travel to his home, he whispers in my ear, “It’s been fun, honey, but I have business to attend to. Until then, you must sleep. Sweet dreams, and we will continue this when you wake.”
A needle jabs into my arm, and I welcome the fall into oblivion.
Thank fuck for that.
* * *
I hear voices. Loud then softer, distant then nearer. My entire body aches; my throat is dry, like sandpaper.
My eyes are heavy and it hurts everywhere.
I can’t move; it’s as if I’m paralysed and a low chuckle beside my ear sends shivers down my spine.
“Welcome back to the living dead, honey.”
Tears blur my vision, which is restricted by a blindfold, and as he whips it off, I stare into the hateful eyes of my tormentor.
“At least you’re awake. Remind me not to give you so much sedative next time.”
He smiles, almost lovingly, and laughs. “So, you are back where you belong, and it’s been a hard journey to get here. Now, I wanted to care for you myself, but duty calls and the business won’t wait, so I’ve instructed my housekeeper to bathe you and feed you in my absence.”
He moves, and I notice a stern-looking woman behind him. Her expression is fierce, angry even, and his smile has a sinister edge.
“Don’t attempt conversation with Alena. She won’t answer you. She is loyal to me, and I have instructed her regarding your care.”
He leans down and forces his hideous tongue into my mouth, licking and biting as if he’s in a frenzy. It’s the most disgusting thing I have ever endured, and when he pulls back, he winks.
“That’s your reward for being a good girl. If you’re not, well, let’s just say you won’t like the punishment.”
He turns to Alena and speaks in a foreign language, one I have never heard before, and she nods, her expression impassive.
He heads off without looking back, and as the door closes behind him, it leaves me with the stern woman who obviously hates me already. Her glare burns, and the derision on her lips is confusing.
She advances, her gaze dismissive as she holds a huge knife to my body and slashes the bonds away.
Before I can even process that, she grips me hard and pulls me up, yanking me from the bed toward the bathroom, her force impressive and her strength undeniable.
I am so desperate to be clean again, I don’t attempt to fight back and as she scrubs my body with the hardest brush, I bite my lip and say nothing. She is rough, cruel, and assertive, and as she scrubs my teeth and slams the brush against my hair, I struggle to get a grip.
Fuck my life.
When she’s finished, I am taken to a small room nearby.
It isn’t much to speak about because it’s empty save for one small bed and a table and chair.
The window is small and hidden behind bars, and as prisons go, this one is not much to speak of.
The best thing about it is the domed dish on the table and the aroma of actual food.
I couldn’t care less what it is, just that it’s here and the jug of water accompanying it is everything I need right now.
I am weak from hunger. Food is my number one priority right now, and the silent woman shoves me into the chair and leaves without a word, the only sound being that of the lock turning.
I’m alone. Scared, confused, and resigned to my fate—for now, anyway.
I haven’t lived with the Reapers for nothing and am aware there is always a solution to every problem, and the only way to figure it out is to be strong.
Therefore, I need food and water and a little time alone to work out what I’m going to do, and as I take my seat, wearing a thin cotton nightdress, I shiver in the air conditioning, loving how it prickles against my skin, reminding me that I’m alive at least.
I’m not sure how long I’ll be alone before Santiago returns to torture me some more, but I’m grateful for the solitude because anything is better than his company.
There is only one man’s company I crave, and tears prick behind my eyes as I stare at the dome covering the plate and wonder why things turned out so badly for us.
If only he had asked me to stay.
With a sigh, I lift the dome, and my mouth waters at the sight of the simple meal of salad, braised beef, and potatoes. As I lift the spoon, apparently, I can’t be trusted with anything else; my mind returns to the past and the glorious day I met Razor for the very first time.