Page 17 of Savage Captor (Deadly Devotion #1)

Experimentally, I try to inhale a deep breath again, only to once again feel like there’s a fist closed around my lungs, preventing them from fully expanding.

Yup, I’m definitely sick. The waterboarding mixed with the general lack of basic human care has finally set in and caused my fragile immune system to plummet.

I glance down at my thigh, and startle to realize that I’m wearing different clothes than I last was.

A large shirt that obviously belonged to a man covers my top half, and loose sweatpants with a tied drawstring are rolled up to my knees.

Huh. I’ve also been washed—I don’t feel quite as sticky or sweaty as I did before.

There’s a slightly pleasant scent wafting from the shirt, either from detergent or a hint of musky cologne.

I don’t even want to think about someone here seeing me naked, so I make the executive decision not to wonder who changed me.

I try to ignore a lot of painful points of my reality. The throbbing in my thigh increases with each of my heartbeats. My lungs aren’t functioning right. I’m weaker than I’ve ever been, and even though I should definitely be dead, I’m still alive. Seems like I just can’t catch a break.

A faint beeping sounds from beyond the door.

Someone’s coming in. I set the water back on the table and try to shift positions to the pose I’ve grown used to, with my legs drawn up to my chest, but my injured leg isn’t being compliant.

I settle for hugging one knee to my chest while the other remains stretched out.

I’m not sure why I favor this position since it doesn’t have any real value; it won’t protect me from what’s coming.

But it’s nice to feel like I have something to hold, even if it’s only myself.

The door opens. A fine shudder works its way up my spine as Monster steps inside. He runs a cold gaze over the room with his crystal grey eyes. Something flashes in the steely orbs when his stare finds me, and another chill works its way through my bones.

I can only assume I’ve been kept alive so I can endure more pain. Recorded pain, this time, judging by the camera on the wall.

Monster spends several infinitely long seconds just staring at me.

There’s something new in his gaze that I can’t quite define, maybe don’t want to define.

There’s no disgust left in his eyes, probably because he no longer blames me for his brother’s death.

Now there’s something far darker lingering in his stormy gaze.

“You’re awake,” he says, stating the obvious.

I glance around. “Seems that way. Shame, I really thought I would die.”

His brows furrow. “Did you want to die?”

I sigh, trying to ignore the way my lungs seem to rattle.

“Not particularly, but it’s inevitable now.

Really inevitable. So, I guess I’d have rather bled out and been done with it than keep waiting for my death to come.

” Honestly, I thought that Monster would give me that courtesy after he found out I didn’t lure his brother to his death.

Maybe the few times I insulted his brother have made him vindictive. Who knows.

Monster shakes his head. Closes the door. Then, he slowly starts crossing the room, a predator on the prowl. I shrink back into the wall, but I can’t move very far. I certainly can’t leap off the cot and run across the room, which means I’m stuck .

Surprisingly, when he reaches me, Monster doesn’t grab my thigh and squeeze, or grab my throat to choke me out. Instead, he takes a seat on the very edge of the bed a few inches away from my outstretched leg. I watch him warily, while he stares at me unblinkingly.

“I have questions,” he says slowly. “Several of them. It’d be in your best interest to answer.”

If they’re questions revolving around my father, I’ll spill everything I know—just like I’d have done from the very beginning, if only Monster had asked the right questions.

“I know the routine,” I sigh. “I don’t answer, you hurt me. Badly. If I can answer them, I will.” A sardonic smile pulls on my lips. “Maybe you’ll even believe me.”

Monster glances away at that. His Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows, but then he composes himself and looks back at me. Was that a flash of guilt I caught?

“You said you ran from your father three years ago.”

I nod. “Correct.” Eric managed to get in touch with me after making his own grand escape nearly a decade prior and opened a small window of opportunity to get me out. Against all odds, it worked, though not without complications.

“And before then, were you his accomplice?”

I let out a puff of laughter. “God, no. I was his captive. His bargaining chip.”

Monster swallows again. “What… kind of bargaining chip?”

“A sow, I suppose,” I say, frowning thoughtfully.

“Not quite a lamb for slaughter, but close enough. I was being bred to get married off to one of Father’s associates.

He made my life very difficult in the interim.

” I shrug, as if it’s nothing, when in reality, even the faintest conversation about my old life is almost as painful as getting stabbed in the thigh .

I was imprisoned in a gilded cage with little freedom. I had about as much agency in my childhood home as I’ve had in this place, wherever I am. I was beaten by my father regularly, though I have to admit, the torture I’ve endured recently outshines anything Dad ever did to me.

Monster lets out a long, heavy breath. He looks down at his hands. If I didn’t know better, I’d say he looks guilty, but I do know better. Someone who can hold a woman down and place half their body weight over a stab wound on her thigh is incapable of guilt. Monster is incapable of guilt.

“How did you get away?” he asks, still staring at his hands.

I stabbed my father in the chest. “A stroke of luck.”

“There’s no such thing as luck in this world,” Monster says. He meets my eyes again, his gaze hardened. “How did you get away?”

“I got smart.”

He parts his lips as if he’s going to press the matter, but seems to think better of it. He seals them again and spends several long, uncomfortable moments gazing at me. There’s a heat to his gaze—not anger like before, but something else. Something weird and profoundly off-putting.

If he’s not pressing the issue and forcing me to answer his question, that means he doesn’t truly need the answer, he wants it.

I don’t know if this is an interrogation so much as a Q&A.

Almost like Monster wants to get to know the girl he’s going to kill.

That seems nearly as cruel as everything he’s done to me so far.

“May I ask a question?” I pipe up quietly.

“No.” His voice is harsh enough to make me flinch, and he catches the gesture. Sighs again. “Ask.”

“Are you going to kill me soon? I’m in a lot of pain, so if you’re trying to delay the inevitable, I’d prefer it if you didn’t. ”

Monster shakes his head slowly. “No, Scarlett, I’m not going to kill you soon. I don’t plan to kill you at all.”

Dread takes flight in my stomach, intermixed with a growing fear.

If he’s not going to kill me, then what’s his plan?

To keep me locked in here forever, like his torture toy?

No, I will not accept that. I’ll anger him into killing me if I have to.

He seems sensitive over his brother, each time I brought it up he’s almost killed me, so I’ll use that if I have to.

“You are going to kill me,” I say slowly.

“You have to. That, or you have to let me go and take me to a very specific place.” Eric has a safehouse set up for me that he showed me the location to.

I know how to get there from my apartment, even by public transport.

It’s possible that Dad isn’t looking for me yet , though it won’t be long before he starts.

Monster tilts his head to the side. “Take you where?”

Something sparks in my chest. Hope, I think. I should squash it immediately, but I don’t have the heart. Monster is talking to me, and he’s listening. I might be able to reason with him right now.

“University campus,” I say. If I’ve been gone over a week, Eric will know I’m gone, and he’ll be tearing up the country looking for me, as well.

Maybe he’ll have people waiting at my apartment in case I return.

Maybe they’ll take me straight to my older brother.

He’d get me help for my lungs and my thigh—he’d make sure I was taken care of.

He might never let me out of his sight or out from under armed guards, though.

“You want to go back to school?” Monster asks. “Aren’t you afraid that your father will be looking for you?”

“He will be looking for me if he hears that I’m alive.” I think. There’s a chance he’ll try to take me straight from here, only to sell me. It’d be his idea of a punishment. “But I think he’d give it a few weeks to hear news of my death. So… please let me go ASAP or kill me on the same timeline.”

“You are…” Monster exhales deeply again, and I envy his lung capacity. “Truly something.”

“So will it be the morgue or the university?”

“Neither.”

Damn. “Oh. Does that mean you’ll burn my body here? If you’re taking requests, I’d like it if you could scatter my ashes in the mountains.”

“Nobody’s killing you, and you’re not going anywhere.”

My brows draw together. A swarm of wasps takes flight in my stomach, a true flash of anxiety. “Then what are you planning on doing to me? You can’t torture me forever—you’ll accidentally kill me eventually.” I can already feel my body starting to fail me.

“The plans for your future aren’t yet certain, but I’m not going to let anyone hurt you.”

I blink dumbly, gazing at him, wondering if he’s brain-damaged. Did he —the Monster who stabbed me, waterboarded me, and threatened to kill me more times that I can count—just say he’d protect me? He’s joking. Or playing a prank.

“Repeat yourself,” I say quietly.

Monster seems to realize how ridiculous his words sound. His cheeks heat, and he looks away sharply. Shakes his head. Takes a few deep breaths. When he faces me again, his eyes are hardened with resolve. “ I’m not going to let anyone hurt you ,” he says slowly.

“You have a pretty sick sense of humor.”

“That’s not humor, Scarlett. That’s the fucking truth.” He doesn’t blink or flinch. Doesn’t start laughing and break the prank. Just… stares at me, almost like he’s daring me to disagree with him.

“If it’s not humor, then it must be a jarring lack of self-awareness. ”

“I’m aware,” he snaps, “of what… what was done to you.”

“What you did to me,” I say harshly. “ You , Monster. You tasered me until I passed out. You stabbed me. You choked me. And to top it all off, you called my fucking father and told him I’m alive!

” I didn’t think I was capable of yelling in this state, but Monster’s words give me a surge of adrenaline.

“I did,” Monster says. “And yet, that doesn’t change the fact that I’ll protect you.”

I shake my head, dumbfounded. “So, what? You’ve had a personality transplant since the last time we spoke, and decided that you’re now going to play the white knight?”

“She’s funny, too,” Monster murmurs, all to himself.

I’m genuinely shocked. The complete 180 he’s pulled is making me dizzy. The last memory I have before almost dying is of him tearing open the stitches in my thigh while on the phone with my father. Now, he’s narrating notes on my personality and insisting that he’s my protector?

On the tails of my shock comes a resurgence of fear. Monster might truly be insane. For the first time since I woke up in this hellhole, I actually wish I were dealing with Cain. Cain is a psychopath, but he’s coldly calculating—not completely batshit.

“ She is concerned that you’re out of your mind.

” I shake my head, baffled. “I don’t… I don’t understand.

” I wince as my vision starts swimming, and black spots appear in my line of sight.

Monster mutters a curse under his breath as I blink and right myself.

He glances at the metal desk. Zeroes in on the two pills resting on its surface. Gives me a hard look.

“Those are antibiotics that you need. Take them.”

“No. ”

“Scarlett,” he growls. “I did not save your life only to lose you to your own stubbornness. Take the fucking pills, or I’ll have the doc give you liquid injections of the antibiotics.”

I did not save your life only to lose you. Lose you. His phrasing is severely skewed, because losing me would mean he has me in the first place. Which he does not.

“I would like to speak to Cain.”

Monster’s stare darkens with anger. “No.”

“I need to talk to someone who’s not insane.”

“We’re not talking about Cain right now.

We’re discussing the necessity of antibiotics.

Take the goddamn pills.” His voice deepens.

His eyes start to burn with something new.

“ Now .” His tone takes on a strange, almost sensually raw edge, and it reaches somewhere deep inside me and activates my compliance.

I reach for the pills before I can second-guess what I’m doing, and pop them into my mouth.

Monster watches through narrowed eyes as I wash them down with water, praying that they’re only antibiotics.

He smiles, a wicked slant to his lips that makes my mouth run dry.

His smile reveals a dimple on his right cheek.

He’s unfairly pretty when he’s angry, but his smile is… stunning. “Good girl.”

Something uncomfortable shifts in my belly. I examine my hands to avoid looking at Monster. Someone even washed the grime out from around my painfully raw nailbeds, and applied some sort of ointment to help them heal.

“Look at me.” He uses the same deep, gritty voice that caresses me like velvet and demands my obedience. My eyes lift, meeting his. “I work for a contracting company known as the Nighthawks. Have you heard of us? ”

I think Eric might’ve mentioned something about the Nighthawks once, but I don’t believe that the name is commonplace, so I shake my head.

“We’re an organized group of assassins. Not unlike the company your dad runs, the Widowers. I’m third in command here and Cain’s second. We were both given bad intel by our boss, who insisted that you lured my brother to his death.”

“Wonderful. Sounds like a Shakespearean plot.”

“Cut back with the sass,” Monster says sharply.

My lips seal, and his gaze lower to them.

He stares at them hard, brows furrowing with anger.

He gives his head a shake, then stands. “I have some things I need to go take care of. You’ll be safe here.

Max will look in on you while I… figure out next steps. ”

I’m struck silent as I watch him walk away. The door slams shut behind him, and I drop my head to my hands.

What the hell have I gotten myself into?