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CHAPTERONE
DÉSIRÉE
There has to be something. My fingers trace along the wall for what feels like the hundredth time trying to find anything I can use to get out of here. I don’t even know for sure how long I’ve been here, and I’m not completely at a loss as to how I would get out. My head still throbs from whatever these bastards gave me to knock me out in the first place. It’s the only way they would have been able to get me out without a fight on their hands. Out of all my sisters, I may be the softest one, but I was still taught to protect myself.
I sigh and look up at the bare walls. A lot of good all those lessons are now. “No, focus on your surroundings, figure this out,” I whisper to myself, trying to get my mind back on track. The last thing I need to do right now is start feeling sorry for myself.
Besides, even if I can’t make it out of here on my own. My family will come for me. They will come, and they’ll kill anyone who gets in their way. I just have to hold out long enough for them to find me. I turn fast in the opposite direction and hiss out in pain.
“Goddammit!” I grit out as my hand flies down to my shin. A deep gash marks my skin from my knee down to mid-calf. It’s not bleeding anymore, but the edges of the cut are dark red and puffy. The edges are jagged, and even standing up, I can see the puss slowly leaking out of the wound. Every step I take feels like someone is stabbing me with hot pokers. I wake up feverish and with the intense need to vomit. I softly press on the side of my leg, trying to get some of the pain to dissipate, and I can feel the heat coming off it. Antibiotics would be enough to make sure I get over the infection, but these assholes won’t get me any type of medical care. Instead of wrapping my leg properly or getting me medication, they just pour a bit of alcohol on my leg. Not only is it painful, but it’s not doing anything to stop the problem.
I stand up straight, and my head spins at the small motion. There’s no doubt the cut’s infected. Mentally I may be ready to hold out as long as I can until my family is here to get me, but if I have a blood infection, there is, but so long I’ll survive until my body just gives out.
Since I’ve been here, I’ve seen a few guards, none of who I recognize. They don’t do much for me besides throw me some food and water and close the door to this small cell again. I try to stay off their radar, but right now, I need them to get me more help. I walk over to the main door and bang on it a few times. They’ve already been in to feed me today. I won’t see anyone until tomorrow, and I’m not sure my leg will wait that long.
“Hey, assholes, I know you can hear me!” I yell and bang on the door again. My stomach rolls with the exertion, and I have to swallow down the bile that rises in my throat. What’s the point of keeping me hostage just to let me die from a cut on the leg? I can only hope that whoever took me from the safety of my home is smart enough to know better than that. I bang again, and this time I hear the slide of feet on the floor.
“What the hell does she want?” someone says through the door.
“How the hell should I know? Open it and find out,” another man says.
“You know we’re not supposed to. One time a day, that’s what we were told.”
I’m already tired of hearing whoever is outside the door bickering, “If you don’t open this door, I promise, I’ll bang and scream all night,” I threaten.
No one wants to hear all that racket for hours on end. I don’t think I’d be able to do it since I’m so weak, but they don’t know that.
“Shit, open the door,” the man outside says.
“Back up. All the way to the wall,” one of them orders me, and I do my best to do just that. I don’t want them on top of me.
The heavy metal door swings open, and the same two men who came earlier to bring me food step in. “What do you want?” the taller one spits out at me. His hair is cut short, and his jaw is covered in dark brown hair. His thin arms are crossed over his chest, and he stares at me like he hates the very air I breathe. The other guard behind him is a little smaller, and from the way his eyes dart behind him every few seconds, he’s a little more skittish. I might be able to take him on, but not both of them.
“My leg. Someone needs to bring me some medicine for my leg.” I do my best to turn my injured appendage in their direction but even lifting my foot sends shockwaves of pain up my body.
“Tomorrow.” The bigger one tries to turn and leave.
“No! I already have a fever, and I can’t put much weight on it. It’s infected. How dumb can you be? Do you really think whoever you work for went through all this trouble just so I can come here and die? I need medicine. Real medicine, and I need it now.” I keep my shoulders back and my eyes glued to his.
His lip pulls up in a snarl. This one doesn’t like to be challenged. I don’t have a choice. If I don’t advocate for myself, I’ll be dead before they realize that they need to do anything to fix the problem.
“I think she’s right, man. That shit looks gnarly,” the smaller guard says, and suddenly I’m no longer the focus.
“Did I fucking ask your opinion? She’ll be fine until tomorrow.”
“What’s the harm in making sure? She’s right, you know. If the boss comes back here tomorrow and she’s dead, that’ll be both of our asses. She needs stitches and some meds,” the smaller of the two continues.
“I don’t give a fuck what you think she needs. Her being comfortable isn’t our concern.”
“We still need to fucking ask, Vin.” The smaller one takes a step into the big one, Vin’s, space.
“Fine, if it’ll stop your bitching, Carmine, we’ll ask the boss what we should do,” Vin snaps out.
I can’t help but giggle. I don’t know if it’s the fever or the throbbing pain driving me out of my mind. “What, you two big men can’t make a decision for yourselves? Gotta run off to the boss for every little thing? Does he tell you when you can jerk off too? Pathetic fools.” I fling my hand at them, dismissing them. I’m used to being around strong men. A family that knows what needs to be done and waits for no one to tell them to do it. Being held captive by such weaklings feels like a fucking joke.
Vin narrows his eyes on me, but instead of looking away, I raise my chin in defiance. “Pathetic? When I’m through with you. You’ll know the true meaning of pathetic!” he snarls, and I close my eyes just as the first of his blows comes raining down on my face.
I crumble to the ground as Vin continues to punch and kick me. My head bounces hard off the stone floor while my ribs feel like they’ve cracked in several places. I raise my arms to cover my head, trying to buffer the blows, but that only leaves the rest of my body open for him to beat on.
I feel the gust of air as the large man pulls his foot back and swings it forward into my leg, causing the blistering wound to open back up and start bleeding. My ears ring as I scream out in agony. Blackness tinges the edges of my vision as he continues to beat on me. Carmine, the smaller of the guards, shakes his head but does nothing to stop his partner from beating on me. I can’t last much longer, not like this. A final breath pushes out of my lungs as Vin’s boot comes down on my stomach. I can’t hear anything anymore, and the sweet promise of unconsciousness whispers in my ear. Just as my eyes start to close, Vin stops beating on me, and the door to my cell opens.
A bright light assaults my eyes, and I see someone walking toward me. This must be the boss. The person who is responsible for bringing me here in the first place. I should find out who it is so I know what I’m dealing with. It’s what my brothers would have told me to do. I can almost hear Tristan in my mind telling me to focus on everything around me.
I can’t lift my head up to see who it is. I’m so tired. My body overrules my mind, and I feel the very edges of my consciousness slip away. Sleep now, fight later.
