He’s violent and dangerous. My throat burns from his abuse, but my mind wonders how he’s become so cold. When he looked at me, there was a flicker of affection, of something he refused to admit. His anger was palpable, a force that made him act out in a rage, but then guilt marred his handsome face.
He is handsome.
Far too beautiful to be in this place.
I’ve known what it’s like to be hidden away. My father was overly protective of me, ensuring I’d never gone out partying like the other girls my age. I was like the princess locked away from the world, until the night I was stolen.
I stupidly went out of my way to defy my father for the first time in my life, and it’s landed me in here. I lie back on the bed. In an attempt to close my eyes, I’m assaulted by the eyes of my captor. The man who looks so haunted it made me question him. I expected him to stalk toward me and slap me, or worse, but he merely glanced my way with such sadness it tugged my heart.
Stupid girl.
There’s no way he can be good. He works for the devil, but he looks like an angel. My thoughts are at war. I can’t shake the questions racing through my mind. I want to ask him everything. I want to delve into his mind and find out what he’s hiding. But something tells me climbing those high walls he’s built will be pointless.
He could be my way out of here. I should’ve asked him about his brother. Or even perhaps why they do this, what the point is of hurting people. No, not people, girls.
My chest aches, but the pain between my legs is like nothing compared to anything I’ve ever felt. Rolling over, I curl into a ball and hug my thighs to my chest. It’s the only way I have some relief, but even then, there’s no escape from the nightmares I know will follow. My eyes flutter, and I sadly allow sleep to steal me.
The creak of the door, the echo of metal upon the concrete wakes me. My body is still curled into a ball. When I move, every muscle tightens.
“Wake up.”
The voice isn’t that of my captor, and my heart sinks. It’s not even his brother. When I finally manage to turn around, I find green eyes peering at me. It’s my captor’s friend. I’m not sure what his name is, but they both came to me on my first day here.
“You’re going with me today.” He smiles. It’s a friendly gesture, but a cold pit of dread sits in my stomach at his words.
“Where . . . where am I going?”
“Today you’re going to see what Drake can do,” he informs me. That must be my captor. It would make sense if he and Dante are brothers, twins. Dante warned me last night he was the bad one, the violent one. I can only pray Drake is not as volatile.
“And Drake is Dante’s brother?” He nods. “So, where is Drake taking me today?”
He stares at me for a moment, as if he’s trying to figure out if he should tell me what’s going to happen or not. I can’t deny the fear trickling through my veins. Those green eyes hold far too many secrets as they linger on me.
“Drake is the second in command. Dante, third.” He sighs, pulling a long white dress from the bag he’d been holding when he entered.
“And you?”
“I’m the foot soldier, sweet thing,” he smirks. I notice then how handsome he is. When he’s serious, those tattoos snaking up his neck from the white collar of his shirt make him look scary. But it’s his dimpled smile that makes him seem less intimidating.
“You’re only their lackey? Seems a bit strange. You and Drake looked like friends,” I observe, causing him to stop at the foot end of the bed. He doesn’t respond, merely throws the dress on the mattress.
“Get up, you’ll need a shower before you go out there. I’ll bring you something to wear as well.” His gaze takes me in, sizing me up in the dirty clothes I’m wearing. “Tonight, you need to look perfect.”
I silently take the material and slide it over my half-naked frame. The slight warmth it offers is welcome, but I know it won’t last long. Comfort in this place is short-lived.
“I’ll bring you food, and then I’ll take you to him.”
The man turns to leave, but I call to him, “What’s your name, foot soldier?”
He drags his gaze over to me slowly, pinning me with a curious stare, and I’m certain he won’t offer me his name. But then he smiles. “My name is River.”
“I like that.” I grin in return, and for the first time since I’ve been in here, I find light within the darkness.
“Don’t mistake my smile for friendship, sweet thing,” he says, twisting the handle on the door. “I’m not one of the nice men. Actually, this place doesn’t have anyone nice you can befriend. It’s best you don’t become attached,” he sighs. “Especially to Drake.”
He leaves me wondering what he meant. How can I become attached to a man I don’t know? A man who’s most likely going to hurt me? Make me cry? Is that how he likes it? How he gets off?
I sit in silence and wait for my food to arrive, but even though River has given me a few answers, it’s only unlocked so many more questions than I had before.