Page 24 of Breaking Sanity (Hell’s Asylum #1)

Alley

I wake up to the sound of the door creaking open.

I don’t remember when I fell asleep, but it did take me quite some time to find the bed in the dark.

The blanket is old, itchy and did little to warm me but I’ll take what I can get.

The light only hits the first two feet of the entrance, so it isn’t directly in my face.

It gives my eyes a second to adjust. Leaning on the door frame is the tall muscular man I have grown to seriously hate.

“Morning Vaughny,” I half sing and half croak. My throat is so dry.

“Afternoon Little One.” He steps into the room. “We have unfinished business to take care of. Plus, you need to get cleaned up and your shoulder needs to be looked at.”

“I will pass on the first. But I’m pretty sure it’s the exact same as yesterday when y’all banished me to this hole.”

“You’ve been down here for three. Now get your ass moving.”

There is no way I could sleep for three days.

They have to be fucking with us, right?

I jump to my feet. My legs feel like Jell-O, so it takes me a minute to get to the door. He yanks me out of the room and basically drags me down another hall. This place is like a damn maze. I wonder if there are any skeletons of people who tried to escape but couldn’t find their way out.

Vaughn opens a steel door and pushes me in. I keep on my feet but take in the room.

There is a small free-standing sink with a mirror on the side wall.

On the counter of the sink is the typical toiletries.

Honestly, I am super grateful, I really want to brush my teeth.

On the other side is a vanity with neatly organized makeup.

Next to it is a small closet; almost like an odd makeshift bathroom including the toilet that is off to the side enclosed in a stall.

The most disturbing part of it, is the giant metal trough in the center of the room.

“Um..” I say.

“Unfinished business.”

As I inch towards the trough, I gulp down the scream that is trying to crawl up my throat. It is filled almost to the brim with ice and water. I blink the tears away as the fear possesses my body.

“I am a man of my word,” he says, coming up behind me. “Now step in.”

“G-get fucked with a cactus,” I stutter. “I am not going to willingly step into an ice bath to be held under repeatedly.”

“Such a stubborn bitch.” He kisses the back of my head.

I expect him to toss me in but he moves in front of me.

With his hands on my hips, he spins us so my back is to the ice bath.

His hand pushes my hair out of my face and uses his knuckle to lift my chin.

I look up at his half-covered face. Vaughn’s smirk causes the scars on his cheeks to wrinkle.

He truly is ruggedly handsome. His thumb starts to move across my bottom lip.

“Just once,” he whispers to himself before he leans down and captures my lips. His kiss is more gentle than Nik’s but still demanding. My body relaxes and I almost melt into him. ALMOST. My legs hit the side of the trough, I didn’t even realize we were moving. I break the kiss.

“Hold your breath, Little One,” he chuckles against my lips.

With that his hand pushes on my chest and I go headfirst into the freezing water.

The hand still on my chest fists my shirt and drags me along the bottom, pulling my entire body in the trough.

I use my only good arm to try to push him off as I thrash to get out.

My lungs start to burn as the icy liquid starts to invade them.

He yanks me to the surface. I gasp, struggling for air.

It doesn’t last long until I am thrown back in to restart my struggle to get free.

He does this three or four times. Each time holding me under longer and longer.

He throws me out and onto the soaked surrounding concrete.

I start coughing up water and trying to get the oxygen to my tortured lungs.

I can’t get my bearings as Vaughn drags me by my hair to the enclosed shower located behind the toilet stall.

He opens the glass door and throws me in.

Before I know it, he turns on the shower.

The scorching hot water hits my skin; my body erupts with the intense feeling of pins and needles everywhere.

“Fucker,” I scream trying to scramble out of the stream. He moves to grab my ankle and drags me to the middle.

“Stay,” he barks, snatching the sprayer from its holder. He places his boot on my chest holding me down and holds the sprayer in my face. I try to turn my head to the side, but it’s no use.

When he finally removes his boot and sprayer, I go into the fetal position coughing and gasping for air. I hope he’ll just walk away and leave me alone. Keeping the tears at bay is no use and my body stings from head to toe inside and out.

“Now,” he grinds. “I will get you washed and cleaned up. Then we will go to medical and have you checked. If you act up again, we will repeat this process. Understood?”

“Leave me alone,” I choke.

“He will, Alley,” Baron says from somewhere in the distance.

When the fuck did he show up?

“How’s the head Baron,” I ask rolling on to my back. He’s a blurry figure just outside of the shower. His massive frame gives him away.

“Vaughn,” Baron moves into the stall. “Walk away now.”

“Don’t worry little brother, she is perfectly fine.” Vaughn laughs and steps out.

“Not the word I would use,” I mumble, spitting up the last of the water.

Baron’s warm touch sets my blood on fire.

I rip my hand from his grip and crab walk to the corner of the shower stall.

I bring my knees to my chest while keeping my eyes on him and clenching my legs shut.

He starts to approach me calmly. He stops when his Italian leather dress shoes touch my toes.

I turn my head and stare at the cracked concrete.

“You can’t get away from me, Kukla,” he says, crouching down. “No matter how hard you try.”

“We’ll see,” I mutter. Letting my tears finish sliding down my cheeks so he doesn’t see. Baron pinches my cheeks and whips my head to face him.

“Stop hiding from me, you’re only making this worse.” His wild green eyes scan mine in search of information he will never get willingly.

“Just because I am not spilling my secrets with you doesn’t mean I am hiding.”

I pull my face from his menacing hands and hang my head on my knees. The more I ignore him the more it gets under his skin. Baron wants the challenge, but the others do not. So, I play to their weaknesses just as much as they play to mine.

Baron places his large hand on my head. His fingers curl inward fisting the wet strands, using his death grip to pull my head back so our eyes meet.

The number of times this has been done to me, I almost feel like one of those voodoo heads where their hair is used as a handle.

He is now kneeling in front of me and dark anger shadows his face.

Using my hair, he jerks my face to be inches from his.

The sudden movement has me on my knees and using his hard chest to stop myself from falling into him.

The white of his button-down shirt turns see through under my still damp fingers.

“I will drag everything out of that head of yours, Alley. Do not force my hand or I will make sure it is more than fucking painful when I do.”

“Fuck you, Baron.”

“I always get what I want, and I don’t play fair to get it,” he says, pulling me closer. His eyes dart back and forth ferociously scanning my face.

I yelp as he throws me back on my ass. He grabs the sprayer and turns it on. Baron hands it to me and steps out, closing the door.

After my shower, I am silent. Baron watches me brush my teeth and comb my hair into a low pony. He eyes me like a hawk as I try to change one handed. He doesn’t move from his spot to help though. He smiles at my whimpers of pain trying to get my arm through the strap of the simple ribbed tank top.

Retreating to the corners of my mind I start to disassociate going to medical. It may be a little house of horrors in my head, but it seems more peaceful than reality.

Many years ago

From the voicemail I received, He is fucking drunk and high again. I don’t know why I expect anything different from him at this point. This has been going on for the past two years and has yet to get better. I am definitely insane for sticking with him.

I play hopscotch to get to his room to avoid stepping on sleeping bodies or half full red solo cups. His ragers are the reason I fucking hate parties. Well, that and I also got my ass handed to me at the first one I ever went to in high school.

I will say that one was my fault, but the football team started it.

It’s not my fault that they can’t handle the consequences of their actions.

However, I will say that taking an axe to two of their kegs then kicking them into the pool full of drunken teenagers was a bit excessive.

But that is what they get for bullying and embarrassing that poor girl.

I may not have known her exactly but that doesn’t mean I can’t stand up for her.

The music coming from Johnathan’s room is so loud that it almost drowns out the music from the living room.

I roll my eyes at the song I have come to hate, “Control” by Metro Station.

Used to be a favorite of mine, but Johnathan ruined it forever.

My hand starts to turn the handle when I hear a voice moaning over the music.

This mother fucker!!

Seriously?!

“Are you fucking kidding me,” I yell, ripping the cord of the speakers out of the wall.

One of my close friends, Jennie, screams falling backwards onto the mattress as Johnathan jolts to his feet. I should’ve known they were fucking around behind my back. They were a little too close the last time we all hung out.

“Get your fucking shit,” I start throwing her clothes at her. “And get the fuck out.”

“This isn’t your place Al,” she snarks, crawling off the bed.