7. Ali
seven
Ali
H onestly, I’m just getting sick and tired of being knocked out and waking up somewhere unknown. Take a week ago, for example. There I was minding my own business when I heard someone in trouble. Being a good civilian and all, I go to help. Unfortunately, the assholes got the better of me, and I blacked out. Sometime later, I wake up in a trunk, which leads me to attacking a man and then getting kicked in the head and knocked out, again, only to wake in a cage.
That’s not where it ends. Oh no, a week of being in the cage, I’m told I need to change into some crazy costume before, yet again, you guessed it. I’m drugged and wake up on a train, only to get thrown off the train into some more bullshit these people call “The Trials.”
Fast forward a few days, mix in three sinfully hot men, a game of who can kill more hitmen, one night of equally as hot group sex, and three psychotic fathers trying to kill their sons, and voila, I’m knocked out trying to find supplies to save one of said sons.
Honestly, my life would make one hell of an action movie right now.
Girl gets kidnapped.
Girl must fight to survive in a twisted death game.
Girl falls in love. Sort of, maybe. Their crazy matches my own, so it could work.
Girl gets kidnapped again by the evil supervillain.
Blah. Blah. Blah.
I would love a fast-forward button so I could get this all over with. The last time I got knocked out, I couldn’t even get a kill in. One of the sneaky bastards snuck up behind me as I gave an epic war cry to charge at whoever I heard in front of me. Truthfully, it was a rookie move on my part. All that training and for what? Now here I am— in a new shiny cage, being told what to wear, what to do, and when I can do it.
I will admit they got smart this time around. Last time I woke up in a trunk, I was able to rush out and attack whoever was letting me out. This time though, I was blindfolded and my hands were zip-tied behind my back. They had to basically drag me to the first room I was left in because there was no way in hell I was going to make it easy for these fuckers. The first room ended up being some type of weird half-bathroom, half-torture-looking room. I was placed in a chair and left there for hours, tied in place, but the blindfold was removed so that I could see what would await me. The torture side literally had surgical tools hanging from the wall and some regular old power tools. A metal morgue table sat in the middle of the space that led to the shower/toilet area. I’m pretty sure it was all a scare tactic because there was still blood covering the table and floors from the last person they must have had in here. But come on, who does that? Just leaves evidence everywhere. Someone is a little too confident, I would say. Or stupid. Either or.
After a few hours to think of all the poor choices I’ve made in my life— and all the ones I haven’t gotten to make yet— a man comes strolling in dressed in a grey three-piece suit and looking completely out of place here. As I took him in, he seemed oddly familiar, but I couldn’t place him. At least not until he spoke. I couldn’t tell you which father he was until I met his eyes. Light gunmetal grey eyes met mine, and all I could see was an older version of Arsen.
A pang shoots through my chest at the thought of him and the other guys. They must be worried about me if they’re still alive. At least I hope they are. I never should have left Riot; what if he didn’t wake up and someone found him? He would have been unprotected. I don’t even know if the other two made it to somewhere safe after we got separated. I force those thoughts away, needing to focus on the new threat and situation I’ve gotten myself into.
“Well, aren’t you a pretty little thing in person?” Arsen’s father takes a few steps forward, circling the chair before stopping in front of me. I don’t say anything, just stare at him blankly. Men like this want a reaction; they want you to beg and plead for your life, but I won’t give him that satisfaction. He can get fucked if that’s what he is waiting for. “You know, I’ve been watching you these last few days. Hanging around my son and his little friends. You were a bit of a surprise, but when they told me you survived, I knew I needed you.” A sickening shiver of disgust skates down my spine as the asshole reaches out and drags his finger along my cheek. I bite my tongue, holding back the retort I want to make, but he sees the defiance in my eyes because he grins. “Oh, it will be so much fun breaking you, darling.” I want to say I’m not a fucking animal that you can just break and suddenly they are loyal and obedient, but I guess he can find out the hard way, but before I can, he turns and heads back to the door but pauses in the doorway.
“I want her scrubbed clean and dressed for tonight’s festivities.” Looking over his shoulder, he pins me with a look. “You will do well with behaving. I would hate for your little boy toys to end up hurt… or worse.” And then he’s gone, leaving me reeling. Does that mean the guys are safe? That they made it out alive? But how? Their fathers were actively trying to kill them, and now? What they just decided not to… no something isn’t right, but some part of me prays they’re okay.
Because somewhere along the last few days, I’ve fallen for those psychos, and I’m not sure what I would do if they weren’t there to catch me.
T hat was all earlier today, but I feel like it was days ago. After fuckface left, three women and two guardsmen came in to “scrub me clean and dress me for tonight’s festivities.” I didn’t bother asking for help to escape because the women all seemed brainwashed as it was with their heads continuously bowed and eyes shifty. I also knew fighting wasn’t an option yet either. I still felt so drained from the trials, and I had no clue where the fuck I was. So, I would have to play this right, act like the meek, quiet girl until I get my chance. Hopefully soon.
So, after I was thoroughly scrubbed and reddened, I was handed a scrap of fabric and a mask and told to get dressed. I was a bit confused at first waiting for the rest of the “clothes”, but when no one budged, I realized this was it. When I held it out to see exactly what it was, I almost laughed. I was given a hot pink set that included a G-string and a lacy see-through bra. I mean, I wore this stuff all the time, but under my clothes and not as actual clothing. But I had to choose my battles, and this was not one of them, so I simply slipped them on and placed the now hot pink bunny mask to match over my face. Once I was done, my arms were wrenched behind my back, and I was zip-tied again before I was led out of that room and across what I realized was a mansion-like house. I was paraded across a ballroom, where servers and staff were setting up tables and decorations in some Halloween theme before they shoved me into a small closet room.
I was told… “Behave until Mr. Castro is ready for you.” Then left alone, still tied on the floor of an empty room, where the only light came from the crack at the bottom of the door. It wasn’t long after that that the volume in the ballroom rose. I could hear men and women laughing as if they didn’t have a care in the world, but I focused on the voices I could hear closest to the door. I could hear Mr. Castro and a few other men, but it was all mumbled until the door was suddenly yanked open.
“Come on out, sweetheart. I have some important guests who have been waiting for a good show tonight. Maybe if you behave, we’ll give you some extra treats,” he coos at me. But when I don’t move and just blink up at him, his smile fades to annoyance. That’s when he reaches forward to grab me by my hair. This is also when I decide, fuck it, I was never good at behaving and patience is definitely not one of my virtues, so I do what I do best. Cause mayhem. I lunge forward and snap my teeth around the asshole’s hand. This causes him to yank back, yelping out as he glares daggers down at me as I grin up at him. “Stupid bitch. Don’t you know not to bite the hand that feeds you?”
Technically yes, you’re not supposed to bite the hand that feeds you, but this fucker hasn’t actually fed me once since I’ve been here, so that doesn’t count. “Let that be a lesson, asshole. Put anything else near me and I’ll bite your fucking dick off,” I warn, my grin turning feral.
But let’s be honest, it was an automatic reaction, I swear. Anyone would have done it. It’s like an unwritten rule: if you stick your hand in a cage with a wild animal, it’s bound to bite you. And right now, I feel feral, so yes, at this point I will bite, scratch, kick, scream, and maul the hell out of anyone who comes near me.
Mr. Castro suddenly leans down into the closet, his cheap mask not hiding his anger at me. “If you don’t get your ass out there right now and on that stage, I will put a bullet in each one of your lovers’ heads.” His words have me snapping my eyes behind him. Could he mean the guys are here? Now? Not wanting to test his patience and more than a little curious if his words had any truth, I slowly came to my feet, wobbling a bit in these stupid heels before Castro reached forward and cut the zip ties. I go to take a step around him when he grabs my arm and jerks me to a stop before leaning in close to my ear. “We have men on standby who are just waiting for our signal. So don’t be stupid, little girl; get your ass on that stage and give us a damn good show.”