I shake my head quickly.
“Good.”
As I’m dragged inside, it quickly hits me that this place looks as much like a prison on the inside as it does on the outside. The handler drags me down a wide, soulless hallway to a large, thick, metal door.
“Don’t run,” the handler says, letting go of his grip on my arm. I don’t miss the way he flashes the shock collar remote at me as a reminder of the consequence of not following the rules.
“I won’t,” I say.
He shrugs before grabbing a hose connected to a spigot across the hall and shoving it into my hands.
What in the world does he expect me to do with this?
“You’re gonna make yourself useful,” he says, nodding towards the locked door. “If the boss doesn’t give a shit whether you live or die, I definitely don’t want to risk the skin on my back giving that crazy fucker a hose down. Not after the other one pulled that crazy move on Tony.”
I assume Tony is the name of the handler Ash slammed to the ground.
“You—you want me to go in there and... wash the alpha?” I ask, my brows drawing down.
“Do I have to fuckin’ spell it out for you? Yeah, I want you to go in there and wash ‘em. He’s all nasty from the fight last night.”
I stare down at the hose in my hands. The water will probably be freezing, just like it was when they hosed me down last night.
“No,” I say, shaking my head.
“You refusing?” The handler growls, his dominance thickening in the air around us.
“I—I don’t want to hose him down,” I say, fighting to keep my voice steady. “If you can get me a bowl and a washcloth or something, I can wipe him down, but I won’t hose him.”
He stares at me like he thinks I’m insane.
“Your funeral,” he mutters before dragging me into what looks like a supply closet of sorts.
A supply closet full of torture devices.
I’m starting to connect the dots about what this building is used for. There were quite a few thick metal doors we passed, far more than the number of alpha fighters they have here.
I don’t even know if Ash and Griffin are kept here, either, meaning all those other doors could lead to individual cells.
Would this have been where they kept me if Rowan hadn’t stepped in?
I keep my eyes on the floor as the handler rummages through shelves, cursing as he hits his head on one of them before emerging with a couple dusty looking old rags and a bucket.
“These’ll have to do,” he grunts.
“Thank you,” I say, shaking off some of the dust from the towels before tucking them under my arm.
He just continues looking at me like I’m insane.
I choose to ignore him as I walk back out into the hallway and fill the bucket with some water. Just like I expected, it’s freezing cold.
I’m no stranger to a cold shower. Freezing cold showers were one punishment used by the handlers at the facility, but it’s different coming out of a hose. It’s like actually being pelted with shards of ice, with how strong the jet setting is on these things.
I’d never deliberately use something like this on someone else, especially after being on the receiving end of it last night.
“When you’re done, bang on the door and I’ll take the bucket back. After that, you’re on your own. I’ve got orders to let the beast’s chains loose.”
“Oh, okay,” I say, huffing as I lift the heavy bucket.
