Page 9 of Brutal Captivity

“Alright, suit yourselves. You’ll see, though.” I shrug, attempting to go for nonchalant but my shoulders feel much too stiff.

Leo gets up and grabs something from a bag that I hadn’t even realized was sitting on the table. It’s a Polaroid camera, much like the one I own. I like the nostalgic quality photos that Polaroids give me.

“What are you doing with that?” My eyes are wide as Leo produces a newspaper from the very same bag.

“Ransom photos. Should be a piece of cake for a professional model such as yourself.” Leo’s mouth breaks into a wide smile, and all I can think about are all the ways I could wipe that cocky smile from his face. I don't say anything as I’m handed the newspaper with today’s headline plastered across the front.

When I don’t immediately hold it to my chest, Leo reaches forward and grabs it. His knuckles drag from my navel all the way up to the middle of my chest as he positions the paper. My whole body jolts, as if his touch electrocutes me. A chill goes up my spine, following the trajectory of his touch. My body sways toward his touch when he pulls away.

Click.I blink several times, the flash of the camera almost blinding me. The flash wasn’t even needed. This room’s fluorescent lighting is bright enough. I am going to be completely washed out in the picture.

“Got it.” Leo takes the paper from me and waves the picture in the air. I almost tell him that it will do nothing, in fact, shaking a Polaroid can actually damage the picture. He walks toward the door, looking down at the photo.

“I’ll be back to check on you later. Eat or starve.” The door shuts behind him with an audible click. A few seconds later, the sharp click of the lock echoes through the room, the deadbolt sliding firmly into place.

five

“The princess has some street smarts after all.”- Leo

Wednesday Morning…

Myjawclenchesinannoyance. Daron and I have an early morning meeting with Peadar, which is the first issue of the day. Fucking mornings. Peadar doesn’t say anything about killing Nico, but that is the only thing that goes well throughout the whole discussion.

It all goes downhill when Peadar gives us our next task. I’m pissed, to say the least. Nevertheless, we are on our way to Callisto and Nico’s holding cell with coffee and donuts. Knowing the pretentious little brat, he probably only eats donuts made with organic non-fat almond milk flavored with rosewater and pistachios or some shit.

“Did Callisto ever eat?” I ask out loud, remembering the princess’ refusal the day before. Evan took them dinner, so I don't know if that went over better or worse. It feels like a lifetime ago.

I have been stressed ever since we brought the pair back with us. I want to slit the throat of whichever of Peadar’s men gave us the wrong information about Callisto being home. I’m so fucking livid. We end up in this clusterfuck because of bad info from some idiot, yet we’re taking the punishment for it.

“I don’t know. Why do you care?” Daron’s eyes find mine, studying me curiously. Fuck. I have no idea why I even ask. My brain-to-mouth filter doesn’t seem to be working today. It’s too fucking early for this shit, and I only managed to sleep a few hours. My head is already pounding, and I hate my life.

“I don’t.” I push the two words out through gritted teeth, refusing to look at Daron.

If the princess wants to starve, then that’s his choice. I don't give a damn. I did what I was supposed to do. I brought him food, and now I am doing something else I was told to do, as much as I hate it. Sometimes I fucking hate my job, especially when it involves ridiculously pretty boys who are also equally as ridiculously spoiled.

“Are Fletch and Evan ready?” I ask as we reach Callisto and Nico’s cell door.

“Yeah. They’re outside, getting the van ready. You’re going with Fletch right?” Daron asks, switching the carrier holding their coffee from one hand to the other.

“Yeah.” I grip the box of donuts then take a deep breath as I unlock the door. I don’t see Callisto or Nico on either of the cots, so I walk into the room, eyes scanning from left to right then back again.

Something slams into the back of my head, blinding pain shooting down my spine. My knees hit the ground, but I bite back my cry. The room goes out of focus. I close my eyes, opening them again, a weak attempt to blink the dizziness away. When it subsides a bit, I’m met by the sight of the rainbow on Callisto’s expensive loafers retreating quickly from my blurry view, before my eyes slowly close. I desperately want to let sleep take over because the light in the room hurts my eyes.

“Leo, you okay?” A muffled voice says followed by a warm hand on my back, and I need to open my eyes again. I need to stay conscious despite the searing pain making its way from the back of my skull to every other part of my body.

I brace my palms on the cold floor, taking a deep breath before I push my torso off the ground. I groan, the pain radiating to my spine now. What the fuck did they hit me with? I shake my head, trying to clear the fog from my brain. It makes the pain worse, a wave of nausea roiling in my empty stomach.

“‘M fine. We need to go after them.” My bleary eyes roam the empty room, looking up to find Daron’s worried expression. My lagging brain starts to catch up from the blow.

Adrenaline pumps through my veins, providing temporary relief from the pain in my skull. We need to catch Callisto and Nico, or Peadar may actually kill us. I push myself to my feet, ignoring the feeling of my brain throbbing against my skull. Daron is already gone, so I take off into a run, my powerful legs catching up to Daron easily.

We burst through the door, and I immediately see that Fletcher and Evan have wrestled Nico to the ground, holding his hands behind his back. “Which way did he go?” I bark, squinting against the bright sunlight that provides zero warmth. Fletcher points in the direction of the dock, and I curse under my breath. “D, stay here. I’ll go.”

“You sure? You took that hit pretty hard.” Daron’s brows draw in concern.

“Yeah. I’m faster than you. We both know that.” I smile, but it probably is more of a grimace since my injured brain apparently doesn’t like the sun. I take off running in the direction that Fletcher pointed, heaving air into my lungs and pumping my arms to gain speed.

Every step that pounds against the asphalt feels like an ice pick directly into my skull. Everything above my shoulders hurts. My brain, my cheeks, my fucking teeth. Everything. My stomach churns, nausea from the pain making it bubble. I push through, letting the adrenaline take over. I catch a glimpse of Callisto’s long legs moving toward a parking lot. I push my body to run faster, ignoring the throb of pain in my head with each thump of my shoes hitting the pavement.