Page 33

MARISELA

“ G ood Morning, Miss Cruz! How are you feeling today?” A man with dark—nearly black—eyes and a shaved head pushed through the large metal door that separated me from whatever was on the other side of these padded walls.

All four of them. Gray with yellow stuffing and the occasional blood splatter peeking out from the seams.

He was the first doctor I’d seen since I was transferred from the icebox and deposited into this giant used tampon, his way-too-chipper voice and the dramatic swish of his white jacket telling me he must have been dipping into his patients’ meds on the regular.

Part of me was appalled by the idea. Another part was hoping he’d share because my fucking head was killing me.

“Like someone who got run over by a four-by-four and woke up in a nuthouse,” I grunted in reply. I’d figured that last bit out as soon as the blindfold was removed and I found myself under lock and key. Bars on the windows and not a shoelace in sight.

The man tsked his tongue while clicking a bright-red pen against his clipboard. “Now, now, we don’t use that kind of language around these parts, Miss Cruz. It’s insulting to all the good work we do here at Briarwood,” he corrected, and I could only imagine what that good work entailed.

I shivered at the thought. At the memory of what they’d done to my mother. At the memory of what I’d done to her myself…

The asshole flicked his pen against my forehead, three quick taps that had me gnashing my teeth and glaring in his direction. I might not have liked the taste of rare meat but not enough to keep me from biting.

His mouth twisted into a snarl and his voice dropped an octave as he squinted his eyes at me.

“Don’t make me put you in a collar, Marisela.

I promise you it’s not as nice as it sounds.

” Then, like nothing happened, his smile was back.

“Your father bragged about your impeccable manners. Let’s not make a liar out of him or a fool out of you. ”

“My father?” I shouldn’t have sounded so shocked. This was exactly the kind of thing he would do.

“Yes, Hernando spoke very highly of you over the phone. He failed to mention how pretty you were, though.”

I could feel the weight of the fucker’s gaze skimming me from chest to clit. Like he could see through the fabric of this flimsy hospital gown. Truth was he probably could. It wasn’t very doctorly of him, though .

Then again, I wasn’t above fucking my way out of here.

The guy was an asshole but it was amazing what you could do when you felt trapped.

He wasn’t bad looking either. A strong jaw, those dark eyes, muscular arms that hinted at the tattoos he was trying to hide under the sleeves he would tug at every now and then like he was worried someone might realize the kinky shit he was into when he wasn’t peddling pills.

I was one quick breath away from offering to suck his dick, after he got me out of here because I was smart enough to know to make the fucker pay upfront, when he pivoted on his squeaky shoes and slammed the door behind him.

He was still there, though. Lurking in the hallway.

I could see his shadow through the little glass window between us.

“Be careful who you play games with here, little girl,” he whispered through the door. “They might just play back.”

Then he walked away, his footsteps continuing to squeak down the hall until all I heard was silence again. Silence and the occasional scream.