It seems like it’s been a few hours since Shane left, and the cramps in my stomach started shortly after. At first I wondered if they were brought on by the sex. Not that it was particularly rough, at least not by Shane’s standards, but they have been growing stronger and stronger. I groan loudly as I feel the warm, sticky wetness between my legs and realize my period has started a few days early and has chosen to arrive at the worst possible time. I don’t even have any damn panties since Shane tore them off me. Just this stupid nightdress. Not even a sheet on the bed to soak up the blood. I can’t just sit on that awful uncomfortable toilet until he or one of his brothers decides I’m worthy of another visit.
I cross the room and bang on the door with my fists. “Hey. I need to speak to one of you.” I shout.
No answer.
“Hey. Please? I need some things. I’m bleeding here.”
Still no answer. Damn! I don’t even know if any of them are out there.
I go on banging on the door, yelling until my voice is hoarse and my knuckles are bruised. No-one is coming. I’m bleeding heavily now and there’s not a damn thing I can do to stem the flow. I crawl over to the mattress and lie down, curling into a ball as I start to cry again. Never in my whole life have I felt so alone. To think that the men I once felt so loved by are out there letting me suffer like this is so painful to me that all I want to do is fall asleep and never wake up.
Waking with a start, I shiver in the cold room. My bottom half is soaked and sticky. I have no idea how long I’ve been lying on this mattress. I must have fallen asleep and now everything is soaked in my blood. My eyes and throat are raw from crying and I feel so weak I don’t even think I can stand.
I don’t even have the energy to open my eyes when the door opens.
“Oh fuck, Red,” I hear someone say and assume it’s Mikey because that was what he used to call me.
Someone else walks into the room then. “What the fuck!” he hisses and I realize it’s Conor and my heart almost breaks in two. I hear mumbling between the two of them, but I can’t make out what they’re saying and I no longer care. The Ryan brothers can all go to hell.
I have a sudden sense of moving and my eyes snap open as I realize Conor has lifted me off the bed. I try to recoil back from him, but his arms are huge and I am wrapped in them. “Get your hands off me!” I can only croak the words because my voice is so damn hoarse from screaming and shouting for help.
“I’m not going to hurt you, Jessie,” he says softly. “But we need to get you cleaned up.”
I don’t have the strength to fight him, so instead I close my eyes and wait for whatever fresh hell is in store for me next. I can smell the petrol and the fresh air as he walks me through the basement and towards the elevator before he walks us inside. A few moments later, I hear the ping of the door opening, signaling we’ve arrived at wherever he’s taking me.
“What the fuck?” I hear Shane’s voice saying from nearby and Conor’s arms tense around me, but I still don’t open my eyes.
“Stay the hell away from her, Shane,” Conor growls. “She is not going back to that fucking basement.”
I can’t help but feeling a small surge of relief at that, because I hate that freaking basement. But it’s a small comfort. So what if they keep me in luxury? They’re still planning on handing me back to the Wolf.
Conor keeps on walking me through the apartment and I open my eyes to find he has walked us into my former bedroom. I choke back a sob as I recall the memories we have shared in this room. And despite everything, being wrapped in Conor’s strong arms is so warm and familiar.
Mikey comes out of the bathroom as we head towards it. “Tub is running. I used some of that vanilla stuff you like, Red,” he says with a half-smile and my stupid face smiles back instinctively.
“Can you stand?” Conor asks.
“Yes.”
He places me down on my feet and then holds his arms out around me as though I’m a child who is just learning to walk.
“I’m fine,” I snap. “It’s just my period. But I had nothing down there to stop it…” I shake my head and swallow the tears.
“I know. I’m sorry,” Conor whispers.
“I’m going to leave you to it,” Mikey says with a final anxious glance at me before he walks out of the room.
My head spins and I place my hand on the wall to steady myself, leaving bloody fingerprints on the pristine paintwork.
“You sure you’re okay?” Conor asks.
I look up into his face, the one that I used to love so much. No, I’m not okay, Conor. You and your brothers have kidnapped me and left me to rot in some windowless, airless room, you bunch of heartless assholes! That’s what I want to say, but instead I simply nod.
His Adam’s apple bobs in his throat as he swallows, and I notice that his expensive gray suit is covered in my blood. Nice! Serves him right for leaving me with no sanitary products. “All of your things are still here. You can stay in this room now. I’ll bring you some food in a little while.”
I nod at him. “I should get cleaned up.”
“Yeah. Of course.”
“You wouldn’t want me looking a mess when you hand me over to the Wolf, would you?” I snap and he frowns at me, but I don’t give him a chance to reply. I turn and walk into the bathroom and lock the door behind me.
