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16
Evelyn
Iwake feeling extremely nauseous as I blink against the light.
I close my eyes, wishing for the dark room once again as I curl in on myself.
“How are you feeling, love?”
My eyes fly open, and I struggle to sit up, pulling the duvet up to my chest as soon as I realize I’m naked.
I look around the room in search of the man behind the voice. Dante is sitting in a chair next to the bed, a book in his hand as though he’s been waiting quite a while for me to wake up. He’s leaning forward over his knees, his head tilted to the side, a finger between the pages to keep his place.
I open my mouth to answer, but have to snap it shut to keep myself from being sick. My head spins as I try to remember what happened.
My mind draws a blank even as I pull me knees up to my chest in an effort to comfort myself and ease the nausea.
“I thought as much,” Dante says with a sigh, rising from his chair and placing the book down on a nearby table before stepping closer to me.
I shrink away from him without thinking, but he still manages to press the back of his hand against my forehead. It’s icy cold against my skin, and I feel an almost instant sense of relief. He starts to pull his hand away, and I grab his wrist to stop him.
“Don’t,” I whisper, my mouth dry.
“Bloody hell, you’re burning up,” Dante murmurs, pulling his hand out of my grasp much to my dismay.
I hang my head as my vision swims, my head throbbing. A few seconds later, just I think I’m about to pass out, Dante’s arms wrap around me and he pulls me to his bare chest. Relief washes over me again as he cradles me against him.
He presses his fingertips against my neck every few minutes as if checking to see if I still have a pulse.
“What’s wrong with me?” I mumble, my words slurred.
“Nothing is wrong with you,” Dante answers. “This is my fault. Evi, I’m sorry to ask you this, but do you remember anything that happened last night?”
I try but fail to recall anything from the past day or so, and I slowly shake my head in response.
“Wait,” I gasp, my mind struggling to clear the fog from my mind but ultimately failing yet again. I sigh in defeat as my shoulders slump. “No, I-I’m sorry.”
“Very well,” Dante says, “then we’ll have to do this the hard way.”
“Do what?”
Dante doesn’t answer as he lifts me into his arms and my body falls limp. He carries me over to the strange, empty room with nothing but metal hooks and rings set into the walls. Gently laying me down on the floor, Dante disappears from the room for a few minutes before returning with several metal cuffs.
“I’m sorry for this, Evi. It’s the only way.”
“What is?” I ask, fear clutching at my heart as he kneels to close one of the metal cuffs around one ankle and then the other. “What are you doing?!”
I don’t have the strength to fight him off, though I try.
“I need you to trust me, love.”
“Why do you all keep saying that? How am I supposed to trust any of you when I’m the one held hostage here and treated like some kind of mad science experiment?”
Dante doesn’t answer as he moves to cuff both my wrists.
“I know nothing makes sense to you right now, but it will … in time.”
“When?”
