He was surrounded by a magnificent courtyard garden enclosed within brick walls. Elaborately arranged flower beds adorned patches of grass organized neatly between tiled paths. Sprouts of pink and violet were interwoven with small yellow flowers, which were like rays of sunshine peeking through afternoon clouds.
Lamps mounted on large enclosures of cast iron provided just enough light to see nearby details without dispersing the intimate atmosphere reminiscent of a Victorian aviary. The cage interiors remained in the shadow, though he could spot plants inside, so maybe that was where all the chirping was coming from?
His breath caught when Diana pulled on his arm, because that was when he first saw a nearby cage. Not as big as the others, it was made with golden-hued bars and had a pagoda-like roof. With a walking space the size of a single bed, it would have looked like a luxurious enclosure for a house pet if it wasn’t for the fact that it featured a portable toilet in there, along with a supply with bottled water and a basket of vanilla cupcakes.
Air wouldn’t reach his lungs no matter how hard he tried to breathe.
“No… please. Look, I’ll do whatever you want. Just don’t lock me up in here.”
Diana pushed back her hair, at ease with the bodyguard at her side and the cuffs on Clover’s wrists and ankle. Middle-aged but youthful and with a flair to her fashion choices, as evidenced by the pink streak in her hair and the violet lipstick, she could’ve been a colorful Cruella De Vil. Quite appropriate for someone involved in human trafficking.
Whenever she spoke, the soothing tone of her voice pushed Clover closer to the edge of insanity. “Oh, sweet thing, don’t be so contrarian. We don’t want your beautiful face to wrinkle earlier than necessary.”
Her bodyguard might have been a cardboard-cutout video game goon. Bald, big, and with a stern face that looked as if it had never been touched by thought. He would have been ridiculous in any fictional scenario. But this was reality, and that made the man terrifying.
“W-what is this?” Clover uttered, but his attention darted to the scissors in the goon’s hands.
Diana’s face lit up, as if she were excited to share. “You’ll become the newest part of my menagerie. Once you’re broken in, I’ll have a comfier place prepared for you,” she said and rubbed Clover’s chest as if she were petting an animal.
This couldn’t be real. She was not right in the head, no matter how classy she appeared on the outside.
Clover flinched when the goon grabbed the front of his T-shirt, but it was when the scissors cut through the fabric that all his senses rang in alarm. A yelp escaped his lips when the cold metal slid against his skin, and whatever beauty Clover saw in this garden drained and soaked into the ground, turning into mud. Colors bled out, revealing the ugly truth of where Clover really was. Under the leaf of a large succulent, he spotted a speaker from which the bird songs originated. No flowers could obscure the fact that he was about to be put in a cage.
He took a deep breath when the man pulled the T-shirt off him but tried to think on his feet and angled his body in hopes the fresh wound on his back would go unnoticed. “What will you do to me?” he asked because at this point it was obvious pleading wouldn’t have any effect. Not with her. She’d already disregarded him as a human being and treated him as someone to use however she wished.
Diana smiled as if she’d been waiting for this question all along. “I will take care of you.”
Clover wasn’t sure about her meaning anymore when the man forced his jeans and underwear down. It didn’t matter that Clover had enjoyed so much semi-public sex in the past two months. He was still overcome by shame and fought the hot flush trailing up his body when cool air teased naked skin. Dread filled his heart, but there was no way for him to cower and hide his nakedness.
“In a cage?” he whispered.
Diana sighed and stroked Clover’s cheek with soft fingers. “You will get a bigger one soon, but a specimen like you can’t survive in the wild. You will be safe here, with lots of play time and delicious food.”
Panic clawed at Clover’s brain when he thought of his exposed back and the obvious wound by his shoulder blade. The tracker was his sole protection from a forever under this creepy woman’s heel, and he needed to keep it hidden at all cost. If he only managed to do that, his men would come for him. They’d keep their promise and take him home.
For so long, he trusted no one. Even Jerry, the man closest to what he might consider family, ended up betraying him. Yet Clover still had faith in people. No matter how much he sometimes wished to be a lone wolf and rely on himself, companionship was something he craved. With his four men, he was never alone if he didn’t wish to be. Someone always had time for him, and someone always gave him attention.