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Before I have time to do anything, rough hands are all over my body running up and down it.
“Get the fuck off me!” I should as I try futilely to dislodge the unwelcome touch. It takes me a moment to realize what they’re doing when a hand falls on top of my hip and gropes, obviously feeling the hard spot beneath my shirt. My lips form a tight line as he pulls away my last blade, grinning at me before he uses it to cut my hands free.
My hands immediately start to burn and tingle as the blood rushes back, even more than my feet did. I resist the urge to rub them, keeping my eyes narrow and my body still, but tense, as Dick continues to pace in front of me.
“Wild little thing aren’t you!” he exclaims happily, rubbing his own hands together. “What do they call you, girl?”
I keep my lips pressed together and watch him. He looks at me expectantly for a minute or two, his face soft, before surprising me when the back of his hand knocks me to the ground.
I’m ashamed of the small cry that I let out, but I wasn’t expecting him to strike me. I resist holding my cheek, even though it throbs. My headache is just getting worse, but I’d be willing to bet that will be the least of my worries soon.
“Very well,” he says, the picture of pleasant again, and my stomach recoils at the expression on his face. I know dark men, and there is something pitch fucking black about this guy.
“We’ll just have to call you whore then.” He nods to one of the other men who immediately starts to pull me up.
This time, I am not bound.
Screeching, I begin to flail and fight with all I’ve got against the two men holding me. They obviously weren’t expecting me to be able to be so strong because I actually manage to knock one to the floor and almost get to the door before an ominous click behind me stops me short.
With slow steady motions, I turn to look face down at the barrel of whatever the fuck gun is being pointed at me.
“Clever girl,” he says in a mocking voice before slamming the butt of the pistol into my skull. Before I hit the ground I just barely have the time to wonder if I’ll wake up this time.
* * *
I let out a groan when I do wake up, I’m not sure I wouldn’t rather be dead. The room I’m in feels sort of damp as opposed to the dry oppressive heat of outside. When I begin to pull my head up I cry out again as the blood on my hair and face stick to the cold ground.
“Careful, you’ve got dried blood all over. I tried not to let you stick but it didn’t work, hold on,” says a feminine voice. It’s slightly familiar but I can’t place it. Small hands creep under my head and gently raise my head before placing it onto something musty but softer than the ground beneath.
I try to open my eyes but my left one feels sealed shut and I’m pretty sure it’s because of the blood too. Dick must have hit me pretty fucking hard if I bled this much.
The soft-touch comes back and something is brought to my lips. Despite the fact I can’t see this mysterious woman, I accept and open my mouth, grateful for the warm water that trickles down my throat.
“Thank you,” I manage to rasp finally before I force open my eyes. The room is dark, and I have to blink a few times to clear my eyes.
“It’s you!” I exclaim, choking on my own voice as I begin to violently cough. She gives me a confused look.
“Do I know you?” she asks and I actually let out a small chuckle. Of all the fucking people and places.
“Yeah,” I reply wryly. “We’ve met before, Sammi.”
Twenty Four
Axle
Fucking woman. What the hell was she thinking? My mind is awash with a combination of terror, fury and self-doubt. It’s making me fucking crazy and the fresh cuts on my arms aren’t helping. Hasn’t stopped me from adding a few more anyway.
“Where is he going?” Theo’s out of breath voice says from somewhere behind me. I don’t wait for him or anyone, just keep heading towards solitary and the sewers. I need to get down there. Dig. Get out.
“Fuck,” Ethan mutters, jogging to catch up to me. “A lot of people are watching, man.” I stop and glare at him before turning and look out. Sure enough, I can feel dozens of eyes watching me.
“Fuck it,” I grind out, starting to turn before Ethan’s arm falls onto me. The demon rises to a fever pitch and I yell at the same moment I turn and deck him in the face. My knuckle throbs from earlier and a fresh wave of blood pours out.
“Shit!” Ethan shouts, stepping back to hold his face. My breath comes harsh and heavy out of my nostrils as I watch him, my eyes still darting to the inmates staring at us.
Everything in me is screaming for Ana, to literally start smashing walls to get to her. The more logical side of myself knows if I actually want to keep her safe, I need to do this smart.
Does she even want me to keep her safe?
