“Emmie,” he sighs. His voice softens despite his grip on my arm remaining unrelenting. “I’m not going to hurt you.”
“Then why am I here?”
He slams his lips shut as his eyes bore into mine.
“What do you want from me?” I demand, slamming my foot down like a petulant child—not that I think it’s going to get me anywhere.
“Come on.” His other hand wraps around the nape of my neck and he pushes me forward, out of the room and into the blinding light of a hallway.
“Where are we?” I ask as he continues pushing me.
“You ask a lot of questions,” he mutters.
“Wouldn’t you if you were being manhandled by some masked cunt?” I spit out—much to his irritation, if the growl that rumbles from him is anything to go by.
“Careful, Princess. I could quite easily lock you back in that room and leave you to the wrath of the others.”
My lips part to bite back again, but I quickly consider my options and close them once more. If he’s actually intending on looking after me, then I should probably keep my frustrations over this situation bottled up for now. At least until that dick from earlier reappears.
“Where’s the guy from before?” I ask as we approach a closed door.
“Called away. I got left to look after our new little pet.”
He brings me to a stop at the door and releases his hold, allowing me to turn around.
“Give me something,” I plead, holding his eyes, desperately trying to figure out who he is.
I know him. I fucking know I do.
But who?
Is he a Reaper? A Wolf? Cirillo?
Reaching out, he pushes the door open and nods into the room, allowing my eyes to drop to the ink on his neck. It looks to be the tail end of a snake that finishes behind his ear. It’s pretty unique, but I still can’t place him.
“We’re not going to hurt you, Emmie. We just need… we need you on side.”
“And locking me in a dark room is the way to do that?” I hiss.
“I’m not the one making the rules, Princess. Take your time, but don’t try anything stupid. The window is locked, the glass is toughened. There’s no point even trying. And if I think you are, I won’t hesitate to drag you straight out and throw you back into that room.”
I hold his eyes for three seconds, but he never backs down.
“Fine,” I hiss, stepping into the room, although I can’t deny that the clean, fully equipped bathroom before me isn’t a welcome sight.
Glancing back at the guy, I let a soft, appreciative smile pull at the corners of my lips.
“Thank you.”
“Be good, Princess. I’ll be waiting.”
With that warning hanging in the air, he closes the door and leaves me alone once more.
Only this time, I’m not in a dark, dank room.
Wasting no time, I race forward and turn the shower on as hot as it’ll go before stripping out of my dirty, blood-coated school uniform.
It’s not until I’m naked that I realise there’s something else missing.
Lifting my hand, I press my palm against my chest where my necklace—my ring—should be.
“No,” I sob, grief washing through me as I realise that I’ve lost a part of what Theo and I shared, despite the fact I mostly want to forget it ever existed. That ring symbolised more to me than our sham marriage. It reminded me of the couple of good times we had. Because there were a few.
A tear slips down over my cheek as I mourn my loss. Maybe it’s how it should have always been. I should have taken it off the second Cruz escorted me out of that hotel and forgotten anything between us ever existed.
Maybe whoever these arseholes are, are doing me a favour.
My freezing skin burns and tingles the second I stand under the torrent of hot water. The wound in my shoulder hurts like a bitch, but I use the pain to ground me, to keep me fucking sane.
I have no idea where I am, who’s holding me here, or why, but as I tip my face up to the stream, I forget all about it as the dirt, grime, and stupid decisions from the past however many hours washes down the drain.
Despite telling me that I could take my time, long before I’m ready to get out and return to the dark cell they seem to have decided is my room, there’s a loud knock at the door.
“Emmie, you still in there?”
“No,” I call back with a smirk.
“Time’s up, Princess. I need to get you back to your room.” There’s a little panic in his voice that makes me smirk.
“Are you breaking the rules right now?” I call back once I’ve turned the water off.
“Unless you want us both staring down the barrel of a gun, you’ll hurry your arse up.”
“Jeez, keep your hair on.“
“You don’t even know if I’ve got any,” he shoots back.
“Yeah, fair point,” I mutter to myself, grabbing a towel that’s hanging on a rail and drying myself off.
“You decent?” he shouts again before the handle twists down and a pile of clothes pushes through the gap.
“No, but that doesn’t seem to be stopping you.”
“I don’t want to die today just as much as you don’t, Princess. Now get dressed.”
I do as I’m told, pulling on the sweats and hoodie. I was expecting them to be men’s and massive on me, but it seems whoever he is actually went to the effort of finding me women’s clothes.
The second he walks me back to the room I seem to be calling home, I regret my decision to get my hair wet, because the chill quickly surrounds me and a shiver runs down my spine.
“You won’t be here long,” he says but quickly slams the door closed before I get to ask what exactly he means by that, or how he could even know.
“Fuck’s sake,” I scream into the silence, although my mood quickly picks back up when I find a fresh tray of actual food waiting for me.
Dropping to my knees, I lift the sausage roll to my mouth and eat it as if it’s the last thing I might ever taste.
By the time shouting from outside my door hits my ears, I’m resting back against the wall once more with my belly full, and the dull throb that’s been assaulting my temples since I woke is starting to lessen.
Sitting forward, I try to make out what they’re arguing about but it’s too muffled.
Suddenly, footsteps thunder my way and the door flies open.
I gasp in shock, scrambling to my feet as the person standing before me glares at me.
“What do you want?” I snap, forcing as much strength into my tone as I can muster. I refuse to look weak. I refuse to cower when it’s what most people do when being threatened with his wrath.
Luis Wolfe.
Lovell’s most dangerous psychopath.
From some of the stories I’ve heard over the years—hell, even some of the things I’ve witnessed—it’s safe to say that his psychotic nature even gives Theo a run for his money.
His cold, dead eyes assess me as I stand there with my head held high.
“What. Do. You. Want?” I seethe, my chest heaving and my fists curling at my sides.
There’s movement behind him, but I don’t move my eyes from his.
After all, I don’t really give a fuck about his minions.
“Where’s your mother?” His deep voice rumbles through the air as disbelief washes through me.