The duvet covered me. I smiled thinking how sweet Anse was. Anse? But he was missing. I heard the beeping coming from my left. I did not move. I merely listened. A familiar rhythm. The first impulse to break through this terrible headache was a primitive one.
Thirsty. I craved water.
I tried calling out. However, my mouth wouldn't open and my tongue refused to move, dry to the bottom of my mouth. I opened my eyes. I couldn't make it whether it was day time or night time. My throat was still impossibly parched. I heard a movement and suddenly there was someone sitting in front of me. I looked up and saw a faint figure. I felt him removing the oxygen mask on my mouth. I blinked.
My gaze fell on the small cup of water he held in his hands. He must have read my mind. He put the straw between my lips and I sucked greedily. I was knocked out and I escaped death. That much was obvious. There was a drip bag and IV pump on my left, the tube snaking down to my left arm. I couldn't strain my eyes any longer. I tried to check myself out, but my eyes really did not want to cooperate. Dull pain quietly boomed inside me. Though I couldn't tell whether it originated from my arm or my stomach. My limbs felt heavy.
The tightening sensation around my upper arm brought my five senses back. I jolted up, dazed. I clutched my aching head, before long I was shocked to find myself sleeping in a room. Blinking several times, I let my eyes wander about my surroundings; curtained window, garnished wooden furniture. I swallowed the panic climbing up my throat. I was not in the cell I was locked in before. It was luxurious and clean.
"Where am-"
That someone cut me off.
"You are in Ive's room"
Did he really just tell me that?
My eyes shifted to this familiar man sitting next to me who was wrapping the bandage around my right arm. He was the one who had hurt me before. When I tried to sit up, tried to gain some sort of angle on him, the hot pain ripped like a knife down my arm caused me to groan painfully. My head fell back, tears sprinting out my eyes.
"I'm just cleaning up your wound"
"You-"I croaked.
I squeezed shut my eyes for a few seconds to push away the tears blurring my vision.
"Don't try to escape. It won't take me long to kill you" he uttered coldly.
I managed a very slight nod. He stared at me. I gulped. My eyes frantically searched for a weapon nearby, in case he decided to attack me. I could grab the drawer next to me if needed. Taking deep breaths, I calmed my pounding heart and tried accessing my situation. Nothing felt right. I was supposed to be dead, not the other way around.
Why was I not dead yet?
From blood loss
My wound getting heavily infected
Ive ordering his men to kill me
I felt groggy. I tried to read the label on the drip bag to see what I was being numbed with. Probably morphine in the IV pump. I tried to fight through the effects.
"You've got to stay here" I mumbled.
A strong smell of chloroform, lingering around, mixed with dry blood penetrated my nostrils. I felt more dizziness kicking in. My eyes heavily begged for sleep but I was forced to keep them open. I need to get out of here. As he went out, I tried to get out of the bed. The more I exerted myself, the more the blackness seemed to cover my vision. My surroundings began to crumble and fade slowly. I shaked my head lightly, squeezing my eyes. I opened them again and attempted to get up until I finally gave up.
🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤
"He was just a young-"
"Crap"
"Did she-"
I could hear indistinct voices in the adjacent room. I tried to open my eyes, ignoring that crazy smell of chloroform in the air the best I could. My mouth felt dry again. Something clasped my throat. It felt like I hadn't eaten for weeks. I remembered being completely drained of my energy. My exhausted body collapsed into the arms of Ive. I noticed my sleeves being torn to put on a clean bandage.
I could recall everything that happened. Too much to handle! The head of a powerful gangster saved me from being raped, something so horrible. To be honest, I'd probably crash if he hadn't reached me right on time.
I inspected myself and I was relieved that I still had my clothes on even though they were soiled with dry blood. Why won't that brat kill me already? I scooted to the edge of the bed. Finally, I could stand up on my feet. I looked around for anything I could alert Ian and Hartley that I've been kidnapped. I walked extremely slowly and cautiously not wanting to gain any attention. I tried to ignore the disgusting stench of blood from my clothes.
My phone! Where is it! I had messaged Ian before I got abducted. Is he looking out for me?
Every step I took my weight felt heavier. I closed my eyes to shake off the nauseated urge. My stomach twirled. I was light headed. As I turned abruptly, my head bumped into someone's chest and my weight threw me backward but he caught me in his arms. My eyes were closed but I could feel myself being lifted and then something rough came in contact with my back. A wall? A liquid touched my feet. Droplets of liquid hit my head. Sweet scents mixed with the awful blood smell. Blueberries.
It was dripping from my body. I felt cold. My clothes became heavier and soaked. Water! My eyes snapped open. Water sprayed violently from the shower head. I opened my mouth gasping for air, brushing my hair behind. My heart stirred when I glanced up on someone standing in the corner. My eyes trembled with recognition. He was there standing while I was sitting under the shower head. Ive.
He was two feet away from me. My breath stuck in my throat. All the muscles in my body stiffened. A terrifying feeling crept up in my chest. I pressed my back against the wall, hoping to increase the gap between us. I felt conscious. My clothes hugged my body, showing my curves. I tried to fight off the quiver that shaked my lips. The water was cold. My heart pumped violently. I kept a blank expression. I can't let him sense my fear. The silence was thick and dense. I could hear water splashing. It made me feel uneasy.
The sides of his haircut were close to his skin, tight. The top was longer and blowed backward beautifully. Some water droplets ran down his dark blue shirt. He portrayed no emotions on his face as he leaned against the wall of the bathroom, hands in his pockets. His pale face looked blank. My gaze fell on my feet. I watched as blood turned the clear water a light reddish color.
"Leave" my voice came out as a whisper.
It took me a lot of effort to wrangle this word out of my mouth. I forced myself to lift my head, terrified to look into those malicious eyes, his dreadful stare. A single muscle twitched on his face as he heard my voice. He offered me a sly smile, a devilish spark in those amber eyes. I felt all the blood leave my face. His eyelashes, encircling piercing cold gaze. I blinked my eyes repeatedly as water droplets blurred my vision. My body felt more tired. I leaned against the wall towards my left to not put pressure on my wound.
"Clean yourself" his one eyebrow which he adorned with a piercing lifted as he uttered in a forced gentle voice, tilting his head to the side.
He scurried out. The sound of a door slamming told me that he left the room. I sighed with relief.I hugged my body, the sobs leaving my mouth. What do I do now? What mess have I gotten myself into?
The water was soothing my aching muscles and my exhausted body to some extent. I removed the soaked bandage. It revealed a deep dark crimson, red hole pierced my skin. I felt a sudden pain while I cleaned the dry blood near my wound. The body wash smelt a good, sweet blueberry scent.
It was the second time I was hit by a bullet. I've got many wounds on this hand. Last time a bullet had scratched my arm. It had always brushed through my skin. It would take time to heal. I wore his blue bathtub. Coming out of the shower, I took a glimpse of myself in the mirror. The bruise on my temple was lighter in color rather than the dark blue, purply it should have been. For how many days have I been unconscious? Two to three days, judging the wound that the knife had left. It was as if I wore a red choker.
I glanced around to see if the first aid kit was still on the side table. I grabbed it. I poured alcohol onto a cotton ball. I dabbed the wound on my neck. I hissed through my teeth as I felt a burning sensation as the alcohol came into contact with my skin. I had touched it too harshly. I didn't know how much time slipped past me. It felt like hours with these terrible nightmares.
Abducted.
Escaping a rapist.
Being this close with a murderer.