Something else. what sort of house had the cell like cubicle I’d been held in and vents like where I’d just crawled from?
It didn’t matter. Whatever it was and wherever I was, I needed to get out.
I made a run for the doors, opened them and landed smack into a wall.
The impact made me rebound and recoil. I stumbled backwards but gathered my footing only to see that it wasn’t a wall I crashed into.
It was Balthazar Kane.
Balthazar Kane. My worst nightmare.
“Oh my God…” I breathed.
“God will not help you here, sugar.” He snarled and landed a slap straight across my face.
As the pain lanced through me stars speckled my vision.
Part of me thought I should have prepped for the slap.
In the last few weeks I’d been slapped twice. In my life no man had dare hit me. The previous two slaps came from people who were holding back. Pa and Armand.
When Balthazar slapped me, the stars blurred my vision. I could feel myself falling and then there was darkness.
* * *
The man knocked me unconscious…
My eyes fluttered open and I found myself staring at something gold and silky.
And,my head…
It had that sensation again. Like it might explode . Not as bad as last time though although it was still pounding.
I blinked several times and moved my head.
Now I was looking at rails. Gold rails. It reminded me of a bird cage.
I shuffled and saw more rails then I made the mistake of bolting up right because now my head felt like it just might fall off.
It would have been the least of my worries because the reason why the rails reminded me of a cage was because I was in a cage.
I was in a fucking cage!
“No…” I cried and brought my hands up to my cheeks.
I was in a cage.
I shook my head as I looked around.
This was a bedroom. There was a massive four poster bed in the center of the room with a large French window leading out what I thought was a balcony.
But this… this was a cage. A human sized cage in the room. the gold silk was the padding on the floor. the bedding, like what you’d have for an animal.
The room door opened and Balthazar came in carrying a mug. He looked so ordinary with his mug.
He wore a knitted gray jumper , black slacks and had his dark hair slicked back. If not for the scar running down his cheek he really would have looked just like a regular guy. He smiled when he saw me and set his mug down on a little table by the wardrobe.
“Hello pet, you’re awake.”
