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“It’s not your turn to ask a question. I answered yours, now you answer mine. Then I will answer more. That’s how this works. Give and take.”
He grins. “I like you. My name is Felix. I’m a guard here.”
“Yes, Enzo is alive.” I refuse to say he might be alive. Or he was alive before I left, but he might be dead now. I have to believe he is alive.
“Good, Enzo and I became something like friends while he was here.”
“Friends? I don’t see Enzo getting friendly with one of Milo’s guards.”
He shrugs. “Believe what you want. But I don’t always think Milo’s way is the right way, especially with how he treats women.”
His eyes heat as he speaks, and I can’t tell if it’s because he’s angered by what Milo does or turned on. He’s a hard man for me to read.
“But if you are here, then what happened to Enzo? He would never let you come here. He would defend you with his life, so he must be dead.”
“I made a deal of my own. To save him.”
He nods slowly before walking to the bars of my cage. He leans against them to get a closer look at me.
“You are tougher than you look.”
“Why do you say that?”
“Because it looks like you’ve been in a car accident, then thrown from a high building, before being beaten up by twenty men. And you haven’t once winced, moaned, or complained about how much pain you are in.”
“Then I would say I’m just as tough as I look.”
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He looks to my shoulder. “Let me fix your shoulder. I can’t do much about your leg, but I can fix your arm.”
I nod.
I don’t know if I should trust this man or not, but I don’t have much of a choice. It would help a lot if my shoulder were back in place.
Felix unlocks the door and then steps inside my cage. He doesn’t bother to shut it or lock it back. He’s trying to show me I should trust him. That he might be on my side.
But I don’t trust easily. He earned Enzo’s trust, and for now, that’s all I know.
“Stand up and turn around,” he says.
I do as he says, hoping he won’t slice my neck or try to rape me.
“Close your eyes and picture yourself somewhere else. And bite down on something. This is going to hurt.”
I laugh. “Do you know how much torture I’ve survived? I’ve had my shoulder dislocated and put back into place before. I can handle the pain without closing my eyes or imagining something else.”
“I warned you.”
He touches my arm, and I flinch.
“Told you,” he smirks.
“It’s not the pain from my shoulder. It’s from your touch. I don’t like being touched by strangers.” I don’t know why I told him that. It makes me vulnerable, but it’s not something I can hide well.
“Sure, it is.”
Ugh, he doesn’t believe me. Well, I don’t trust him. And my arm is tingling, sending alerts all through my body. There is something off about him, but I can’t figure out what. I don't get the same feeling I do when Milo touches me, but it’s not as calming as when Langston or even Liesel touches me.
