“Can you… please… just… let me die? P-please, help me,” I sobbed with my eyes still closed.
“Oh, darling… I wish I could, believe me, I do, but that would go against everything I stand for,” he explained, then bit into the thread to break it off. “There. You should be fine. You’re too strong for your own good. Aren’t you?” He paused or I passed out. Nothing was clear, not even the words coming out of my mouth.
“May I have some water? I’m so… thirsty. Please, Doctor.”
“Yes. You lost way too much blood. These men have the patience of raging bulls. What the hell could be the hurry? A week and you’d be back to normal. Why do you girls bother getting into so much trouble?” I almost apologized, then remembered all I’d done was defend myself and try to save a girl from a madman.
How could he be against giving me the mercy of death, knowing they would torture me into it? I guessed the gentle demeanor didn’t match his morals. It was all an act; he didn’t really care. No one was going to help me. As I accepted my fate, fear jumbled all my thoughts into one another.
They lifted me to help me sit so I could drink cold water. I couldn’t get enough of it and chugged it.
“Is she ready yet?” Lord Adler called from across the room as I drank.
“No, not ’til the bleeding stops.” He wasn’t lying. My bandages had been changed twice already.
“She looks just fine to me,” another asshole joked.
“See how she’s drinking all that water? That’s a sign of significant blood loss. Unless you’re looking to party with a corpse, you’ll wait a few more minutes.”
“Wow. The bitch has the doctor under her spell too.”
Only after drinking all the water did I dare to look around the large room. The door was a yard to my right, and the sectional, on which they sat joking and ignoring everything that had been done to me, was to my left. To get to the desk, one had to climb three thin steps.
From my short peek, I didn’t see Sir. I couldn’t believe I was stupid enough to still be hopeful he was alive. I guessed I was destined to always be searching for him, like I did my Killian.
I lay on my belly on the wood, my palms under my cheek while I stared out the window at the forest for a long time. Everything hurt, but at least there was a wall made of glass from where I could watch as the sun dipped into the pine forest. The wind bent the longest of trees, their branches tickling each other. There were less and less birds flying.
Something broke the air,ShhhWissshhh, then I felt it across my ass. I had to gasp to swallow the scream at the splitting heat that tormented my butt cheeks. He’d stricken me with a horse whip. Before I knew what’d happened, I fell from the desk. Laughter thundered, but I felt the bandage soak with way too much blood.
“Stand up.” It took a long time, but after standing as I’d been taught, I kept my gaze to the floor, my fingers interlaced in front of me, and waited, trying to keep myself from collapsing.
“Gentlemen, look who’s ready.”
“Awww… I can see why he’s so methodical with her. Her skin is… amazing.”
“Her skin, George? Seriously? What are you, gonna silence-of-the-lamb her?” They laughed.
One of the men stood and walked up to me. “Come, dear. Let us see.” He turned me in a circle while holding my hand up high. “I mean, goddamn, look at that ass. That alone is almost worth not killing her.” When he stopped, he lifted my chin so I could look at him. The windows were behind me.
There were seven of them. It was snowing outside. Even if I jumped out the window… and survived the fall, again, it was snowing outside. I could no longer hide my fear, so I snapped my head down again and repeatedly pinched the tip of my finger.
“Have you eaten, dear?” the only man sitting on the sofa asked.
“No. I have not.”
“James, why don’t you see if her meal is ready? Put some nutrition into that skinny body.” He was so obese his belly reached halfway to his knees. Even though the room was frigid cold, his skin glistened with sweat. The rest of the men were younger, from twenties to forties, but he didn’t look less than fifty. His tone hadn’t carried malice. I hoped it wasn’t lying to me. It sounded like the tone of a leader, a father. The assessment made my heart ache for mine. “Why don’t you take a seat at the desk?” he proposed.
I was grateful for the added rest and kept falling asleep while they talked.
“WhereisTristan?”
“Taking care oftheoverlord.”
“Oh. What an honor.” There was sarcasm to his tone, but I could scarcely pay enough attention.
It was one conversation among many. Soon, it all became background noise. I searched for something, anything I could use to defend myself, but the top of the giant wooden desk was empty, and the drawers were all locked.
As they conversed, they emptied the bottles of scotch and whiskey, and I kept hoping they would drop dead fromdrunkenness and that someone would just take me back to my room to be left alone. Their intentions were clear. There was no escaping this.
