Page 2 of Beg for Death (Bloody Desires #8)

Where am I?

Pain flared to life along my spine as I blinked away the dizziness that threatened to take me back under.

My lungs screamed for me to take in a full breath instead of the little pants that escaped me.

The walls were painted a dingy yellow that bordered on tan.

There were no pictures or even posters hanging up.

There was a single night stand that I could make out, a chair on the far left with a door next to it, and what made it worse was the heavy metal wrapped around my ankle.

The only window in the room was covered by boards not letting in a shed of light.

My head was a mess trying to recall everything that happened to lead me here. I never partied, I didn't do drugs, and drinking was no go. If this was some sick prank I was going to go to the police this time. I couldn't stand being the butt of someone's joke, not again.

I squeezed my eyes shut as a wave of dizziness rolled over me. My stomach clenched and bile burned the back of my throat. This had to be some sick nightmare. All the stress from my classes was finally getting to me and I was having some kind of psychotic breakdown.

Yeah that's what's happening.

I licked my lips as saliva pooled in my mouth. This would be over once I counted back from ten. I'd find myself sitting at the small desk next to my bed and Professor Granger's paper still not done.

Even as I tried to come up with a logical answer the little voice in the back of my head wouldn’t let anything stick. The one that warned me every single time something shitty happened in my life kept urging me to see what was happening before me. I couldn't come to terms with it, not yet.

I counted back and when I opened my eyes the same yellow walls surrounded me. The same creaky bed was pressed against my back making a noise anytime I so much as twitched. I still had a cuff around my ankle that had a long chain on it.

Curiosity mixed with trepidation won out and sat up and stared down at the metal wrapped around it. The chain clinked as it moved. Some of it clanged and scuffed against the hardwood flooring.

"This isn't real." I whispered.

I sat up slowly, staring down at my body in confusion. I was still wearing the clothes I had on yesterday or was it still the same day? my phone and backpack with all my belongings were nowhere in sight. And it wasn't like there was any way to tell how much time had truly passed.

Pain registered the moment I pinched my thigh. I wanted to do it again to see if the pain was real but I knew it was. This whole thing was real. I was kidnaped?

Why?

"How long are you going to be in denial?" A rough voice penetrated the air and sent chills down my spine.

I scrambled off the bed, my legs not listening to my brain as I fumbled about. Instead of standing my knees hit the unforgiving ground and more pain ricocheted through me.

"Ah fuck." I shook my head forcing myself to ignore the pain in favor of seeing the man before me.

He was tall as he leaned against the door frame.

His tan skin was covered in tattoos that I could just barely make out.

There were probably more hidden underneath his clothes.

His facial hair was low, thick, and well groomed.

There were little bits of grey that probably put his age closer to my father's then mine.

His nose was slightly crooked like it had been broken before.

The man looked like someone I would have avoided at all cost.

So who is he?

"Are you going to stay on your knees?"

I blinked a few times. "Who are you?"

"You're being rude. When asking someone for their name you give yours first. Did that father teach you anything?"

The mention of my dad made my stomach turn. He hadn't taught me anything except to be quiet and out of sight. Even thinking about it made me feel queasy. I pressed the back of my hand against my lips trying to keep it down.

"I think I'm going to be sick."

"Shit." The man crossed the room rounding the bed and erasing the distance between us.

Fear flared up and only made my stomach roll even more.

My vision blurred as I wavered forward. His fingers were rough as they landed on the nape of my neck.

He squeezed, digging his digits into my flesh.

I was forced to zero in on the pressure on my neck.

My head was shoved down until my forehead rested on the cool ground.

My eyes squeezed shut as I prepared for the worst. Everything else around me started to settle down as I held my breath.

What was he going to do to me?

My heart pounded against my ribcage the longer we stayed in that position. My knees started to burn from bearing all my weight.

"Done?"

Panic tried to claw its way up but was stuck in the middle of my chest. The ball of nerves twisted and turned inside of me without an outlet. His hold on me tightened even further, sending little shocks of pain down my spine.

"Yes?"

"Is that a question?"

"No?" I squeaked. What was the right answer? What would make him stop hurting me and let me go?

"What the hell is wrong with you? Can't answer simple questions."

A shudder worked its way over me as I took in a breath. "Sorry."

The silence that greeted my apology only fueled my anxiety further. A crawling sensation crept up my arms and I desperately rubbed at them to make the feeling go away. What was I supposed to do here? What was I doing here?

His hand disappeared from my neck but not the pressure. I didn't dare move. What if it set him off and he ended up killing me? Fear laced through every single one of my limbs turning them into stone.

"This is how things are going to go. I'm going to ask you questions and you're going to answer them.

You scream and I will kill you. You try and run and I will hurt you.

I know you see the chain you're not going to get far although I encourage you to try it's been a while since I've been allowed to hurt someone.

You have no idea how hard it was holding myself back for three years. "

I chewed the inside of my cheek not caring about the pain or the taste of copper. My entire body trembled as I stayed still as possible.

Calloused fingers pressed into my flesh once more. The pressure built until I could feel it all the way down to my tail bone. A whimper was all I could muster as my brain shut off. Survival mode kicked in.

"You have no manners. When I tell you to do something you say yes sir. Am I clear?"

My mouth opened and I licked my lips, fighting the tears back. "Yes..Sir."

"Good." He released me and it felt like a nice cold breeze on a scorching day.

Do I stay like this? He hadn't told me I could ask questions. I kept them locked away for now. Although I wanted to know why I was there I didn't want to know at the detriment of my life.

"Get up and sit on the bed," he instructed.

I jumped up and regretted it instantly. My feet were nothing more than pins and needles. I winced as I moved around. I plopped down on the bed still staring at the ground. I made out each groove of the wood flooring as I waited.

"Look at me."

My head snapped up and I was instantly drawn into dark brown pools of his eyes. His gaze was heavy and only made me want to go back to staring at the ground. I swallowed and decided it was easier to look at his cheek.

"Did your father dearest ever talk about me?"

Why ?

I went back to chewing the inside of my cheek as I shook my head. My father would rather pretend I was never born then actually talk to me.

A single brow lifted and I sat up straighter.

"I said answer me. What are you, a fucking mime?"

I went to shake my head again but stopped short. "No?"

He pinched the bridge of his nose as he let out a heavy sigh I was all too familiar with. It was the same one so many people before him had given me. He was disappointed or better yet frustrated with me. I had that effect on most.

I scooted back on the bed, the chain dragged over the mattress rattling with each movement as I drew my legs up and sat crisscrossed on the bed.

I wanted nothing more then to take the thin blanket under me and wrap it over my head and hide away from the pressing feelings that were welling up inside of me.

I didn't know this man and yet he was staring down at me with the same look so many others had.

"Let's try this again." His voice was tight as if he was over our interaction already. "Give me solid answers, not ones that sound like a question. Am I clear?"

"Yes sir."

A small smile appeared on his face that ebbed some of the anxiety that was clawing up my throat.

Don’t think just do.

"Good. Now think about this before you answer. Three years ago did your father talk about someone special?"

Three years ago?

My head tilted to the side as I tried to remember back then.

I'd been home going to a community college before I transferred to a university.

Staying home had been my only option which was why in the end I'd worked my ass off to get a full scholarship in order to leave.

Sharing a place with someone who didn't want to acknowledge your existence beyond special occasions was mentally draining.

"No." The only thing my father and I shared was blood and at times even that felt thin.

The man hummed, his lips downcast in a frown.

Did I answer wrong? My anxiety was back gnawing at my insides. "Sorry."

He stared at me for a long while before speaking again. "You haven't gone home in the last month or so. When do you normally visit?"

"If I don't take summer courses I go back, but I haven't been back since last year."

The man looked puzzled before he pushed off the wall. "Then you have no idea why you're here do you?"

"No." I bit down on the meaty part of my cheek. The pain was grounding as I waited on bated breath for him to tell me.

"Good." He turned and headed for the door.

Panic riddled my body with icy chills. "Wait." I was up on my knees on the bed ready to get down but too afraid to actually get up again. "Who are you?"

The man smiled at me like he was having the time of his life.

"That's a good question." He chuckled; it sounded dark and twisted.

"The bathroom is right over there." He pointed in some general direction but I was still stuck on the fact I had no idea what I was doing there.

"This is where you'll be staying for now. "

"Stay?” No, that couldn’t be right. “Why?" My voice broke. "Why am I here?"

He turned fully to me, his arms crossed over his broad chest. "It’s none of your business."

What the fuck does that mean?

All the questions flooded into my head and not a single one came out of my mouth. My chest felt heavy with an unbearable weight as he stepped out of the room and down the hall. I should follow and yet my body wouldn't move.

"Someone is going to come save me," I whispered in defiance.

I didn't have many friends but I'd recently met a really good one.

As the night played out in my head I recalled that I was supposed to be meeting him last night.

Hopefully when I hadn't shown he’d called the police.

If not then I was fucked. This had something to do with my dad then maybe he would come for me.

That thought felt less hopeful than me escaping on my own.

What the hell am I supposed to do? Just when I thought I'd gotten a grasp on my life it was now placed in the hands of a psycho.