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Vega gently brushed the hair from my face with his fingertips as he smiled. “Ignorance isn't a blessing; it's a curse.” He spread his bear-sized palm over my forehead and pushed my head down.

The man with glasses took a small plastic tube and forced it up my nose. It didn't really hurt, but the second it moved from my nasal passages to my throat, I began to gag. My insides bubbled up, pooling in my throat and trying to come out. My eyes watered with tears that were hot as fire.

I blinked, releasing the tears. Vega's eyes connected with mine, and for a split second, I thought I saw a flicker of compassion. It was quick, disappearing the second I blinked again. The tube slid all the way down my esophagus and into my stomach.

“There,” the man said as he taped the tube to my cheek. “We're all done here.” He pulled the gloves off his hands and dropped them on the tray. “I'll be back in a little while to check on her.”

Vega released my forehead, but his hand stayed on my head. He rubbed the side of my temple with his thumb, drawing light circles. “I'll come get you when she's finished.”

“Come get me immediately if you see any blood around her mouth or coming out of her nose,” the man said.

“Of course. I know how this works.”

“You're going to need stitches,” the man responded. “That cut is pretty deep.”

“I'll worry about that later, it's fine for now. Thank you. You can go.”

“I can just grab—”

Vega snarled, “I said go.”

The two men left, leaving us alone. Vega kept rubbing my head. His fingers moved into my hair, massaging my scalp.

“What is happening to me?” I asked.

“I warned you,” he said callously. “But you didn't hear me.”

Chapter Seven

I twisted. I pulled. I yanked with all my might. But I couldn't break free.

My skin was rubbed raw around my wrists and ankles. The cool sensation that flowed into my veins had diminished and was nothing more than a warm burn. I had this foreign object going down my throat and the insistent urge to spit it out.

Vega was sitting on the stool across the room, watching me. “I don't know why you're still fighting it. It's a losing battle.”

“I don't feel good,” I said. “Please, untie me.”

“You don't feel good because it's like you're running on a full stomach. Quit moving around so much and you won't feel like shit.” He stood up and stalked toward me. His eyes danced over the bag connected to my arm. Vega tapped it gently, causing it to swing back and forth. “It's almost empty. Won't be long now until you're finished.”

My eyes felt puffy from all the crying, but I had no more tears to shed. There was nothing left inside me despite the fluid being forced into my body. “Why won't you give me any answers? Please, just tell me why I'm here.”

Vega stroked his jaw as his eyes settled on mine. “Answers won't change anything. Do you think having all the answers will help? Because it won't.”

“You don't get to decide that for me. I should be the one that decides if it helps or not.”

“I don't know if you realize this or not, but you don't get to make the decisions here.”

“Then who does? You?”

“Yeah, I'm the one in charge. You might not like it, but that's life, Red.”

“My name's not Red. I told you that already.”

“I know, but that pretty red dress gave you the title.”

“Can't we talk about this? I'm sure we can fix whatever the problem is. Tell me what's going on. How can I help? Obviously, you need something. I can get you whatever you're looking for. I'm sure of it. Just talk to me.”

“You're not here to be my therapist,” Vega sighed.