“Why?” I ask. She’s the first person who’s been normal. Pleasant. Nice.
She walks behind me and starts brushing my hair. It’s knotty from not having it brushed for days. She has to pull hard a few times, but the pain doesn’t compare to the agony that’s wreaking havoc everywhere else, so it doesn’t bother me too much.
“We don’t always have answers for everything, Saskia. Some things are best not being known.”
Turning to face her, her old wrinkled face looks peaceful. But then I remember where we are. “Okay,” I say, nodding my head and turning back.
Closing my eyes, the first person that appears is Ryken. Then Livia. Then I see my shop. I miss it. I miss my shop more than I realized I would. Growing that business from nothing is something I’m extremely proud of. And to now have it taken away from me, it’s a difficult pill to swallow. I feel a bit delirious, my mind can’t seem to concentrate on one thing at a time.
“Now, some advice… nod your head… smile when asked… don’t ask any unnecessary questions. Do you understand me, Saskia?” She pulls hard on my hair when I don’t answer straight away.
“Yes,” I reply in a small voice.
The guy comes back in and looks at my arm, then his eyes look up to mine. “She ready?”
The hair brushing stops, and I realize he’s asking her not me.
“Almost.” Walking around, she pulls a toothbrush out, offering it to me, then points to the small white sink in the room. “Brush them.”
I do as I’m told on unsteady legs. My movements are deliberate, slow, measured, so I don’t fall over from the weakness I’m feeling. The older lady walks out the door, leaving me in the room with the man as I start to brush. Even brushing my teeth feels like an arduous task, every movement I make is tough for my body to undertake.
“It would be wise to not vomit again.”
I have no words to say, as I look up at him in the mirror and notice he’s watching me. Brushing my teeth, I spit out and rinse, and when I do he’s behind me again. His hand goes to touch my arm, I can see it in the mirror, and I pull it forward closer to my body, afraid he’ll bruise it even further.
He groans and reaches for my other arm applying pressure with his fingers. “Not much for the words are we, Blondie?” He pulls me out the door, then stops when the older lady comes back with a pair of white heels dangling from her fingertips.
“She needs to wear these.” She passes them to me then walks away.
What the fuck! High stilettos are expected to go on my feet in my weakened state? I wear heels, but these are next-level, and I know with the slightest twist my ankle will snap. I’m so unsteady on my feet as it is.
“You heard her, Blondie, put them on,” he barks out his orders.
I do as he says because as of right now I have no alternatives. He seems to be the only way I’m going to be getting water and food. And food and water is what I desperately crave right now to function.
“Where are we going?” I ask.
He grunts. I slip the heels on but pull back, more afraid of what will happen if I trip. I’m so unstable and shaky on them as I stand. He grabs hold of me and looks back, his brows furrowed, and then he realizes it’s because of what’s on my feet. His grip relaxes a touch, and his stance straightens, but he holds me tightly as we walk to a black door which he pushes open.
“Best behavior,” he mumbles almost in a whisper.
Loud music is blasting. Lights are everywhere, strobing. We make our way through a throng of people and come to a sizeable u-shaped sofa with a table in the center. I notice girls drinking, and only one man is seated there and he’s surrounded by women. His eyes lift, and it’s right then and there I realize that at any moment this man could kill me.
Nothing about his appearance is light or kind.
He’s frightening and hard everywhere.
And the way he’s looking at me makes me want to use my fight-or-flight response, and believe me flight is winning hands down.
I’ve been collected.
And the man who collected me is also one of the most dangerous criminals in the world.
Chapter Two
Ryken
“It’s me you can’t have. Haven’t you worked that out, yet, Ryken? Two wrongs can’t make a right. You and I, we’re two wrongs.” Saskia’s last words ring through my head, even a week later. A week is how long she’s been gone. A week is how long I’ve been searching for her.
Livia has fucked off, and that’s an understatement. She’s fucking furious and has no idea why. She knows I don’t want her to touch me, speak to me, be around me. I don’t want anyone near me right now.