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Rusted bars of a cage. One used to hold big dogs, those crates.
“Asher!”
That voice.
I knew it. I knew it well.
Not in a good way.
Something was… something was very wrong.
I wasn’t safe.
“Sam?” I rasped, my voice unsteady.
“That’s right, little prince.”
“What… how… what is this?”
“Good, he’s coming around,” I heard him speak to someone.
That someone answered in the next moment, revealing just how bad this situation was.
An involuntary shudder rolled through me as I heard my father’s voice.
“That second sedative shouldn’t have hit him that hard.”
“I told you to be careful with the dosage. He obviously had something else in his system.”
“Something he kept quiet, off any doctor’s records. You know I’m monitoring those.”
“Well, you want him lucid enough to answer our questions, hand me that blanket and fire up that cigarette.”
A grunt of acknowledgement came from my father.
He didn’t like being told what to do, no matter how mild Sam had been about it.
He’d called Sam in because he was used to dealing with the dolls, all the drugging and abuse, and knowing how to walk that line between them being compliant versus being too far gone and out of it.
The clang of metal had me jolting and then Sam dragged me out through a small space, out of the cage it seemed.
It didn’t end there.
I was dragged across what felt like hard stone, the roughness abrading my skin along the way. I grunted as it rubbed against what felt like opened cuts and deep bruising.
That room… that room in the sub-level… that was where that damage had happened.
My father had inflicted it.
Then I’d done the same to him.
After he’d… after he’d touched Aurora.
Aurora. “Where is she?” I rasped.
Samuel didn’t answer.
Neither of them did.
