Dex cracks his knuckles with a pleased grin, and Jagger nods.
At least, after all this time together, we finally agree on something.
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
WREN
“Get up.” I sit up with a gasp, looking around as a headache pounds against my temples. I see I’m in a closet with a bucket. A pain in my hand and hip tells me that’s what I landed on when I was thrown in here.
A guard grabs my arm and hauls me up to my feet, wrenching my arm and making me cry out in pain.
“Shut up and start walking.” He gives my shoulder a push toward the door, and I quickly move before I end up tripping.
Glancing around, I see three men have come to collect me.
“Where’s Elias?” I ask as I’m led into the hall.
Nobody answers, so I just do my best to take in my surroundings. This hall is lined with doors, some open, some closed. I glance into each one we pass, but I don't see anything noteworthy.
We move back down the same stairs I was brought up… how long ago was that? Hours? Days? Although I passed out quickly when I was first placed in there, I remember waking several times in that horrid place. Each time I took the coward's way out and let the panic sink in so I’d pass out. It’s probably the reason for the pounding headache now. It might not have been the smartest choice, letting the panic take over, but I was too scared to do anything else.
I’m led into a different room this time. It looks a bit like a mix of an office and a library, with bookshelves lining one wall and a plain, nondescript table in the center, with a laptop and a single chair.
My brows pinch in confusion. This definitely wasn’t anyone's office; the setup was too temporary.
I’m led to a sofa on the far wall, set in front of a window. Glancing outside, I see it’s daytime and still raining. Does that mean it’s still the same day we were taken? Or is it the next day now?
“Sit,” the guard barks, and I quickly take a seat in the middle of the couch, as I wait to see what will happen next.
Anxiety and nerves start to fuel me as I watch two guards standing at the entrance, guns in hand. Would they shoot me if I tried to run? Would Robert really have gone through all this effort to catch me, just to kill me?
The truth is, I don’t really know him. I have no idea what he’s truly capable of anymore. I never would have thought he’d sell his own sister, so I clearly have no idea what extremes he will go to to get what he wants.
The question plaguing me now is: what does he want?
Movement has me glancing at the door as Robert steps inside. The moment his eyes connect with mine, he gives me a soft smile, the one he would give me growing up. One I thought meant that he cared for me, but now I know differently.That smile was a lie. A lie that I believed for far too long.
“Bring it in,” he says over his shoulder, and as he walks toward me, a man follows holding a tray with food and drinks on it. “Set it down there,” Robert points to the ground in front of me, and someone grabs a small side table and moves it in front of me as the tray is placed on it.
I glance at the bottle of water and cut up carrot and celery sticks before looking back up at him.
“Go ahead. You must at least be thirsty. You’ve been here for almost a day,” he says gently.
A day?
Well, that answers that question. And now he’s said it, I do feel parched. Keeping my eyes on him, I reach forward and grab the bottle of water. It looks sealed, but I doubt he would poison me; there’s something else he needs from me. And I have a feeling it’s my willing submission.
I drink a third of the bottle, then grab a carrot stick and eat it. Robert just stands in front of me, watching me the whole time. It’s unnerving, but I know I need to keep my strength up. A lack of food and water will not only make my body weak but my mind as well, and I need to stay sharp.
After I eat a handful of carrot sticks and drink half the bottle of water, Robert turns his head and nods at one of the guards, who exits the room.
“Feeling better?” he asks me. I nod slowly, unsure where this is going.
He takes a seat beside me and looks at me for a moment, a look of sadness covering his face. But I don’t buy it. “I know you don’t trust me anymore, Wren, but I do care about you. I’m only looking out for your best interest.”
“And selling me was inmybest interest?” I ask angrily.
“Yes,” he says, nodding his head. “Wren, don’t you understand?” He places his hand on my thigh, and I yank it away from him, not wanting his touch. He frowns at me but doesn’t comment on it as he continues speaking. “You can’t take care of yourself. You need someone to look out for you. I picked Ivan because he’d give you a good life. He would give you anything you could ever need.”
