Page 11 of The Wolf

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.

“Maybe that's exactly what you need since you're torturing innocent people.”

“Torture?” He let out a chuckle. “You think this is torture? Wow. This would be pathetic as a form of torture. Trust me, if I decide to torture you, it won't be like this.”

“How about you grow some fucking balls and tell me why I am here then.”

There was a knock at the door. Vega turned and called out, “Yeah?”

“It's time,” a man said.

Vega moved to the door and opened it up. The man with glasses was back. He pulled on gloves as he walked into the room. He looked and acted like a doctor, but he was so cold—dead on the inside. Obviously, whatever compassion and ethics he once held were gone.

He pinched the tube and slowly pulled it out of my nose. The sensation was strange, like pulling a long string of spaghetti out of your mouth that had gotten stuck in your throat. I coughed a little until it was finally free.

The man then moved to my arm. He placed a gauze over the IV line against my skin and plucked it out.

A small piece of tape was placed over the gauze.

He had a few words privately near the door with Vega that I couldn't hear, and then he walked out as if nothing had happened.

He just walked away like he hadn't just violated the Hippocratic Oath.

Vega came to the edge of the bed. His fingers teased the ends of the bindings at my feet. “I'm going to untie you now, but just know, every single time you refuse to eat, this is what happens. Do you understand?”

“Yes.”

“Are you going to eat from now on?”

“Yes. I'd much rather eat than go through this again.”

“Good. We understand each other then.”

I arched a hard brow. “I don't think we understand each other at all.”

He pulled the knots loose and said, “I'm not asking you for much. All you have to do is comply. Do as you're told, and this will go much more smoothly.”

My eyes burned with fire. “Smoothly? How can you even say that? You're talking like this is normal. This isn't normal. I want to leave, not comply with a fucking a thing.” I sat up and rubbed my wrists as he pulled the last binding off.

“Well, unfortunately for you, complying is your best option.” He stuffed the rope bindings in his pocket and walked to the door. “Do you want to take a shower?”

“What?” I asked, confused by the question and his casual stance. Vega didn't look out of place or uncomfortable. He looked right at home, relaxed and at ease with the entire situation.

“Do you want to shower?” he asked again. I stared at him for a moment with a look of perplexity. “Well?”

I glanced around the room, twisting my head left to right and then looking behind my back. “Where? There's no shower in here. Are you going to bring me a bucket of cold water and a bar of soap? Another favor for me just like this meal.”

“There you go with that humor again. I'm not talking about a bucket of cold water. There's an actual shower you can use.”

I let his statement linger for a moment. The shower was someplace else. If I agreed, he'd have to take me there, and maybe I could find a way out of this place. The thought ignited a flicker of excitement and hope.

“Yes, that would be nice. I could use one.”

“This way,” he said. He opened the door but stopped abruptly. Vega turned to face me. “No funny business. I don't want any more trouble. Do you understand?”

“Why would I cause any trouble?”

Vega didn't answer. Instead, he tugged one of the bindings from his pocket and said, “Hold out your hands.”

“For what?” I asked.

“Just do it.”

“No.”

Vega clenched his jaw and tilted his head. In one quick swoop, his hand was around my throat. He pulled me, shoved me against the wall, and growled. “This isn't complying. This is the trouble I'm talking about.”

He held me firmly in place. His fingers tightened, pressing against the throbbing vein in my neck. Vega's face was inches from mine. I could smell the mint on his breath and the musk of his cologne.

I wanted to speak, but the pressure was too great. All I could do was gasp with airless words. Vega's eyes darted between mine. They were dark, glinting like gunmetal under the low light. His jaw was covered in stubble, and his hair swept across one eye.

“I'm going to tell you one more time. Give me your hands.” I held up both arms. “Good girl.” Vega released my throat and tied the rope around my wrists. He wrapped the other end around his hand and walked forward, tugging me behind him like a dog on a leash.

The building was old. What I thought was a rundown hotel was actually an old factory.

The hall opened up to a giant room. We were on the second floor.

Beside me was a flaking green railing. Below us was a cauldron that had to be twenty feet high with a diameter as wide as an above-ground swimming pool.

“What is this place?” I asked.

“It's an old soap factory, been shut down for years. I bought it a little while back. It works great to keep things under the radar.”

“You bought it?”

Who was this man? If he had the kind of money to buy a factory, why take me? What was the purpose? What could I give him that he didn't already have?

“What? Do I not look rich enough to make a big purchase?”

“People can be all kinds of things beneath the surface. Clothes don't mean shit.”

That was one thing I did know. I learned it firsthand from my father and the people who worked for him, the politicians he bribed, and the police he paid off to look the other way.

You grow up thinking that people are exactly who they say they are, and then one day, you see the truth.

The veil gets lifted and the world you knew is gone.

“For once, we agree on something,” Vega said. “Humans are chameleons.”

The metal floor was cold beneath my feet. My toes prickled like I was standing on a solid block of ice. “What kind of work do you do?”

“The kind that's none of your fucking business.” Vega gave the rope a tug as he got a few steps ahead of me. “Enough with the questions.”

I stopped talking and took note of every door and window. The windows were fogged up and high above my head. There wasn't a chance in hell I could climb to one and jump out. There were several doors, but it was hard to tell if any of them were an exit.

“The shower is in here.” Vega pushed through a doorway.

The hinges creaked loudly as the door swung inward and slammed loudly as it closed.

The room was covered in clean white tiles.

There wasn't a spec of dirt anywhere to be seen.

It appeared as sterile as a hospital. A far cry from the filthy room I was being kept in.

Vega pulled me all the way to the corner of the room.

“Where's the shower?” I asked.

“Right there,” he said as he jerked his head.

There was a drain built into the floor, and a shower head with hot and cold handles was built into the wall.

A small basket with soap and shampoo was on the floor against the wall, and a towel hung on a rack right above it.

The tiles were as bright as if you stared straight at the sun.

Blinding and vibrant despite having no color.

“You have ten minutes.” Vega released the tether.

“I can't shower like this,” I said as I held up my tied hands. “Can you untie me, please?”

He pursed his lips but reluctantly agreed. “Don't try anything stupid.”

“I won't.” I thought he would give me some privacy, but Vega only turned around to face the opposite direction. “Aren't you going to leave?” I asked.

“Why? So you can try to escape? Not a chance in hell.” Vega answered quickly without a second thought.

“I can't shower with you standing right there,” I proclaimed, instinctively covering myself with my arms. I wasn't naked, but just the thought of having to shower with him right there made me feel completely exposed. “Some privacy would be good.”

“Fine. Then you don't shower. I'll bring you back to your room.”

Vega turned and started to reach for me, but I said, “Okay. Alright. I'll shower. Just promise me you're going to stay facing the other way and not be a pervert.”

“Pervert? Did you forget I was inside you already?” Vega ran his finger under his nose and inhaled a deep breath. “I think I can still smell you on my skin.”

My brows angled hard as my pussy clenched with the reminder. My body was defying me. I didn't want to think of the pleasure he had given me. “Promise me,” I demanded.

“I don't make promises. I can give you my word that I won't; that's it.” His voice echoed over the tiles, making it sound like he was all around me. I shuddered. My skin bristled as his voice encased me in a warmth of sound.

“I guess that's good enough.”

“It has to be good enough because that's all you're getting.” Vega twisted away from me and faced the direction we came in. “So, let's go. Get it over with.”

I slipped my dirty red dress off and kicked it to the side. The metal of the faucet was cold against my fingers, and the floor was smooth under my feet. I turned on the shower and let the hot water cascade down my body.

The water swirled around my feet like a whirlpool in the middle of the sea. Dirt slid down my legs, creating a swamp around the drain. The beautiful whirlpool was now a mudslide, just like my life.

“Hurry up. This ain't a spa,” Vega barked.

“I'm almost done,” I said as I rinsed the shampoo out of my hair. I turned off the water and wrapped myself in the towel. “Okay, I'm finished.”

Vega turned around and said, “It's about damn time.” He looked me up and down. “Why didn't you put your dress back on?”

“Because it's dirty and disgusting.” I kicked the dress in his direction. “I'm not wearing that. Look at it.”

He dragged his fingers through his hair and eyed me. “That's alright. I have something else you can wear.” Vega held up the rope and said, “Hands.”

I complied, holding out both wrists for him to tie.

Vega grabbed the binding and walked towards the exit, pulling me along again.

I should have felt less than human. I should have felt disturbed and disregarded.

I was being walked like a pet. But I didn't feel anything at all.

I was more focused on finding a way out than caring about the optics.

The factory was quiet. It obviously wasn't a factory that was in operation. There were no other people around. Other than the few people I had seen, there certainly wasn't enough to run a place this big. A factory like this, if it was running, would be loud and buzzing with life in its heyday.

We reached the door to where Vega was keeping me. “I'll be right back with something for you to put on. Sit tight.” He pointed at the cot as his hulking shoulders blocked the doorway.

“Don't worry, I'm not going anywhere,” I forced a smile as my brows reached high.

He chuckled lightly and shook his head. “I wouldn't suggest you even try.” Vega shut and locked the door.

I sat on the bed. I was cold. My hair was dripping over my shoulders.

The water droplets tickled as they glided down my back.

I was shivering from head to toe. I tried to wrap the damp towel tighter as if that would help.

It didn't do shit. My teeth chattered, rattling around inside my head like dice.

Vega returned a few minutes later carrying a bundle in his arms. “Here,” he said as he dropped the clothes on the cot. “You can put these on. I have some shit to take care of right now, but I'll be back in a little bit with your dinner.”

“It's pretty cold in here. Any chance you could turn the heat up?”

“I'll see what I can do.” He tossed me a smile and a nod.

Vega started to leave, but I stopped him. “Wait,” I said. “Thank you.”

“Don't do that.” He looked back at me over his shoulder, his voice ominous. “Don't thank me.”

“I'm serious. I'm sure you didn't have to let me shower or give me clean clothes. I appreciate it. I honestly do.”

Vega lifted a brow suspiciously. “You're full of shit.”

“I'm not. The little things matter.”

“Don't mistake my actions for kindness.” Vega's mouth turned razor thin. “And you being pleasant doesn't change a thing. I hope you know that. People lie. Especially people in your situation. They lie all the time.”

“I'm not lying. I swear.”

“They say that too.”

“I'm not a liar. My name is Poppy Aneska. Does that ring a bell? I wasn't lying when I said my father would come looking for me or that he'd give you any amount of money for my return. Although, if you own this place, I don't know if it's the money you're after.”

“I know exactly who you are. That's why you're here.” My mouth dropped open as Vega smiled and shut the door behind him.

I wasn't in the wrong place at the wrong time. Vega knew what he was doing. This was planned. I was his target.