The doctor is an older woman with short, curly gray hair and kind brown eyes. She’s definitely not what I was expecting. I thought some hack of a doctor was going to walk in here, look at my bruises and tell me I’m being a sook and to get over it. But instead, she looks over each of my injuries, carefully prodding them to see if there’s any further damage below the mottled skin.
Now the bruises have had some time to develop, my entire midsection is black and blue, and the sight of it has nausea rolling in my belly. The worst injury I’ve ever had was when my sister pushed me off my bike when I was ten. Two scraped knees and one palm full of asphalt, and I thought it was the worst pain I could ever feel. But Jesus, this is worse, so much worse.
“I think you have a few broken ribs, dear,” her soft voice says, and for a moment, I wonder how someone so kind came to work for a human trafficking ring. What kind of life led her here?
I nod my understanding, but I don’t reply. It’s not as if I need instructions on how to care for such an injury, because as it stands, I’m locked in a concrete cell with a heavy steel door and nothing more than a couch. I don’t have any of the things I would need, or any of the amenities to take care of it myself.
A single tear slips down my cheek despite itself. I don’t want to cry. I don’t want to show these people my weakness, but I’ve also never felt so fucking hopeless. I’ve never felt like my next breath is barely worth taking.
Her eyes clash with mine and pity creeps into the dark brown. “Broken ribs aren’t as bad as they sound. They’ll heal themselves in six to eight weeks as long as you don’t do anything strenuous to aggravate them.”
“You’ll have to give the care instructions to—” I wave toward the heavy door. I don’t know anything about what’s going on out there, or what my future holds for me, but I know that I’ll have no choice over it, and although I’m certain this woman is aware of that, I still feel the need to tell her. Maybe it’s idle hope that she’ll help me escape, but she doesn’t know me. She has no reason to help me, no reason to do more than exactly what she’s doing now.
“I will,” she agrees. “I have some painkillers here for you, I’m sure you’re in a lot of pain and these should take the edge off. I’ll leave them with the guard to give you at mealtimes.”
“I’m not taking those,” I reply immediately.
Her brows pull together in confusion, like she can’t see a single reason I wouldn’t want to take a medication prescribed by people who have been actively trying to sell me for the last few months. “It will help with the pain.”
“I’m sure it will, but it will also leave me more defenseless than I already am.”
She nods in understanding and looks as if she’s going to say something when the door swings open and one of the men who broke into my apartment and stole me away stands on the other side. It’s not Frank, the one who beat me, but that doesn’t make him any less menacing as he stares across the room at me.
“Times up,” he rumbles.
“I’m not done with my patient,” the doctor says, her eyes hardening as she stares at him. “You and I both know he instructed that she get the best care available. Do you want to tell him how you rushed me?”
All the emphasis on the man who has acquired me has dread forming low in my belly. If Annalise and all her men are scared of this guy, surely whatever future is ahead of me is full of pain.
He glares between us before turning and leaving the door slightly ajar. The sight of the open door makes me want to leap into action and run as fast as I can, but I think everyone here knows I wouldn’t get very far. Not with a hangover and broken ribs.
The doctor watches me for long moments as she considers her next words, but I’m not expecting anything that comes out of her mouth. “I don’t work for Annalise. I work for a man much more powerful, and one who is very interested in your health and safety. He will make sure you are protected while you’re here, and he will ensure you have any medication that will make you more comfortable until he’s able to retrieve you.”
I stare at her like she’s sprouting a second head, because she may as well be with the crazy shit coming out of her mouth right now. I can only assume she means the guy I spoke to through the speaker, but honestly, at this point, I wouldn’t be surprised if there was someone else involved in this whole crazy plot. I’m not worth this much hassle. I’m just an eighteen-year-old college student with a sad backstory. Why on earth are all these people so interested in me? I just don’t understand.
“I can see you’re confused and that you’re afraid. I would be too, if I were in your situation, but you don’t need to be. I’ve worked for him for a long time, and he does not hurt those he cares for. He will not harm you, that much I can promise.” She gives me a tight smile and stands from the couch. “I’ll leave some care instructions with that guard along with the medication should you choose to take it. I would highly recommend you do as it will allow you to relax and that will assist your body in healing. But it’s your choice. He will never allow anyone to force themselves on you.”
I close my eyes to stop the onslaught of tears that threaten to spill against my cheeks. Doesn’t she understand that by doing this, by buying me and expecting that I’m going to belong to him, he’s the one forcing himself on me? Perhaps these kinds of people don’t understand that kind of thing, but to me, it seems simple.
She leaves quietly, but the door doesn’t click when she closes it. I’m not sure if it’s a mistake or a test, but I’m not going to go out without fighting like hell.
I look around the room for the camera I’m assuming there is, but I can’t see anything, and I don’t have the time to be looking for it. I rush toward the door and carefully tug it open just enough to see a hallway made of the same concrete as my cell, and I let out a soft sigh of relief when I find no guards. Maybe I can get out of here. Maybe I can save myself.
Even if I have nowhere to go when I escape, at least I’ll be free.
