Darkness washed over her, taking her away with it into a place that was blissfully free of pain.
Until it wasn't. A moan fell from her lips as she was jostled.
“Don’t hurt her,” a voice snarled.
Wait. She knew that voice.
It almost sounded like … Mr. Bedroom Man. Only …
Why would he care if anyone hurt her? After all, that was the exact reason he and his friends abducted her. Theywantedto hurt her. Theyhadhurt her.
Except afterward, he’d told her that they fixed what they broke, then knocked her out so he could tend to her wounds and rehydrate her.
Rose was getting a headache trying to figure out what was going on.
Or maybe that was because the ceiling had collapsed on her.
“Don’t touch her,” Mr. Bedroom Man growled, and someone else gave an annoyed huff.
“How exactly do you expect me to help her if you won't let me touch her?”
She knew that voice, too. It was the man who had given her the pills in the basement that made her pass out. Was he some sort of doctor? Weren't you supposed to take some kind of oath to do no harm when you became a doctor? You know, because you wanted to save lives not take them.
Mr. Bedroom Man grunted, but she felt herself move again, and she couldn’t help another moan escaping.
Damn, she hurt all over.
“Would you stop looking at me like that. I heard your threat loud and clear. She dies, I die,” the other man said, and Rose had no idea what that could possibly mean.
No one cared if she died.
Certainly not enough to kill someone else because of it, which, if she was reading the words correctly, a threat had been delivered from Mr. Bedroom Man to Doctor Man involving her and whether she lived or died.
Too bad for them that the idea of dying didn't seem so bad right now.
Set down on something soft, Rose would have assumed it was a bed, but why would they put her on a bed? There were no beds in her cell, and they’d put her back in her cell after whipping her, so she doubted they would upgrade her accommodation just because she had managed to pull the roof down on herself.
Then again, Mr. Bedroom Man was sounding awfully possessive all of a sudden.
Hands began to skim her body, and she didn't need to open her eyes, something which it seemed she couldn’t do anyway, to know that Mr. Bedroom Man was shooting death glares at Doctor Man.
What the hell was up with him?
Why was he worried about her dying when he planned to kill her anyway? Her brother wasn't going to care about her andgive them what they wanted, so the only logical next step was for them to kill her.
Yet it seemed he was trying to fix her instead.
Something sharp pricked the inside of her elbow, but honestly, she was hurting so badly all over that it barely even registered on the pain scale.
When hands brushed across her arm, Rose screamed and jerked off whatever she’d been set down on. That didn't just hurt, it broke the pain scale.
“Hold her down,” Doctor Man instructed.
“Give her something,” Mr. Bedroom Man countered, sounding almost panicked.
“Can't, don’t know how badly she’s hurt. From the way she’s breathing, I know there are cracked ribs at least, but if I give her too many drugs without properly assessing her, I could kill her. That what you want?”
The responding growl was answer enough.
