GRAYSON WAS CONSCIOUS, HE FELT, SAW EVERYTHING THEY DID. Every action they took, every emotion they felt that plastered their hard faces as they carried Grayson.
He felt like a sack of potatoes being thrown wherever. Hating the feeling, he growled a low growl, showing his distaste of the situation. But the guards never uttered a word, their mouth stayed in a straight-line, emotionless, cold.
Having no control of anything, not even his physical body felt absolute shit in every way. They threw his body hard on to the mattress careless, making it bounce slightly at the force of their throw.
It was fairly obvious they didn't particularly care, a strong hate wavered out of them in full force. But they couldn't do anything to him, not even if they tried.
