CHAPTER 13 - ARIANNA
CHAPTER
Arianna
AS THE SWIRLING FOG in my head starts to clear, I groan, the throbbing in my temples, the pain in my wrists and ankles and the suffocating nausea worse than ever.
There’s no point in opening my eyes. I don’t need to see what awaits me. It’s the same as what I’ve faced every long second of every day, however many there’s been enduring this torture.
My brain is too fuzzy to process anything properly, and I need no reminders of what is coming.
Again.
The memory of Matteo’s voice pushes forward; his sneering face is never far from my mind’s eye. And Luca - that bastard - his hands which...
Then that shitty argument about me and...
Fuck!
The memory of the last conversation just before I was drugged again lurches into startling clarity.
Maria! They’re taking Maria to use in the same way they’ve used me. I can’t bear it! Not my sister!
But... Shit! That was when? Last night? An hour ago? When?
My mind scrambles to recall what was said and when.
That was it!
Oh God!
Matteo said he was meeting Maria “later”, so how long was I drugged for? An hour? A day? A week?
They could already have her, and if they do, what use am I when cuffed to a bed?
Maria...My little sister...
A hot tear escapes my tightly shut eyes, burning my cheek as it rolls down to drip on the pillow.
Groaning in pain and frustration, I pull against the shackles in a futile protest. I don’t care how much it hurts. My wrists are chafed to the bone, so what’s a bit more in the grand scheme of things?
Through the treacle-like mire in my head as I pull against the restraints on my arms, only to find they’re free, it takes a few seconds to register.
Shrieking with shock, I twist in the bed, willing my drugged eyelids to gain enough feeling to open.
I’m not tied down! How can I not be ti...
“Arianna.”
There’s a hand on my arm. What the fuck?
“NO!” I lash out. “Don’t touch me! Where’s Maria? Leave my sister and continue with me! Leave her alone, you bastard! I fucking hate you! What have y...”
“ARIANNA!”
My breathing halts.
That voice isn’t Luca Bristoni’s... It’s...
“You’re safe now.”
Red?
My lips move, but the words remain stuck. Is Red here?
Really here? Or is it another weird shift between reality and dreams?
With all my power, I raise my eyelids and a dark, swarthy form ripples into semi-focus. The curls of a ponytail rest on a white collar. Full lips and stubble spark a recognition so ingrained it’s like I was born to recognize the features.
“R-Red...” I whisper, my voice dry.
“Yes, it’s me, baby. I’ve got you.”
A hand gently encircles my wrist, and I flinch, blinking my heavy eyes at the grainy outline of something white wrapped underneath his fingers.
“I need to change this dressing, okay? You’ve got some deep cuts there, baby, but I’ll be gentle.”
My initial confusion and disbelief are replaced with a blinding sense of relief as it sinks in that this is Red - for real. He came for me, so I’m safe. I’m back with the man I’ve only just found.
This short, blissful surge of joy at his voice, his face coming into focus and realizing he’s here with me, evaporates - barged out of the way by a tsunami of loathing resentment.
Ignoring the pain and stiffness, I pull my arm from under his fingers.
I can’t look at him. I won’t.
I stare at the bandages and dried blood seeping through from underneath as his hand moves back towards my wrist.
“Get out!”
At my icy voice, his hand freezes to hover a few inches away from mine.
“Princess, let me change your dressings. I’ve done it once already before you woke up. I’m careful and I promise I wo...”
“I said, get out!” My words hiss through clenched teeth. I still don’t look at him. If I look at him, I’ll kill him. He abandoned me, so why am I here? To be used as a pawn again?
I don’t think so.
“Arianna, you must le...”
“Get away from me!” I lurch forward, feeling no pain in my wrist when my fist connects with his face. “Get out. GET THE FUCK OUT!”
Red swerves out of my reach to stand at the side of the bed. This time, my eyes move from his chest to a face wearing a look of hurt and confusion.
I meet his eyes, hoping that mine hold every ounce of hatred I feel for a man I thought loved me, but tricked me. Now I feel nothing but rage. His magnetism, handsome looks and pull over me dissolve into bitter memories.
Red holds my stare for a couple of seconds before he inclines his head slightly and turns around.
He doesn’t look back as he walks from the room, shutting the door behind him. As his footsteps fade away down the corridor, my racing heart begins to slow.