Fractured

“Get her in here,” another man’s voice responds, but there’s a growl to the tone of his words, anger fueling them. I’m tugged suddenly, drawing a scream from my lips. “Shut her up, or she’ll be put under again.”

“I suggest you listen to the boss,” the man who’s in the room with me says. He pulls at the material covering my eyes, and I find myself in a bedroom. It looks normal enough, nothing sinister about it unless you count the man who’s currently looming over me.

Dark green eyes leer at me. His bald head is shiny in the dimly lit room, and his smirk is nothing short of vile. Just the way he’s looking at me makes me want to throw up.

“You need to get cleaned up,” he tells me, ripping me from the bed and dragging me by my arm as I stumble behind him. He shoves me into a bathroom that looks clean, even though it’s rather basic with only a shower and toilet. There’s no sink or mirror.

“Where am I?” I glance at my captor, who looks ready to kill me rather than tell me anything I want to know. But I can’t be afraid, even though fear has a chilling grip on me. “Please, just tell me where I am.”

“The boss man requested your presence.” He pulls the door shut after his admission and leaves me shivering in the chilly room. Thankfully, I’m still fully clothed. But even so, it’s not at all warm in this house or apartment.

I rush to the window, trying to open it but find it locked. The mottled glass doesn’t offer up much of a view. Frustration causes a whimper to fall from my lips. The man bangs on the door before shouting, “Better get done in there, because if you don’t, I’ll come and do it.”

His words force me to move quickly as I strip and jump under the spray, which causes goosebumps to rise. The prickling of cold needles attacks me, but I make quick work of washing myself.

Once I’m out, I grab the towel that’s been left and dry off before putting my dirty clothes back on. It’s not great, but it’s my only option.

I’m tugging at my hair, pulling it into a bun as the door swings open and the hairless man comes ambling inside. Once more, he pulls me by my arm, tugging me along behind him, and I have no choice but to follow.

I had a feeling JD’s dad was behind this, but I haven’t seen him yet. Perhaps I was mistaken. I know he made a threat that JD shouldn’t contact me, and it’s been such a long while, I thought it was over with.

I’m shoved into an office that looks like it’s come straight from a classic novel. Antique furniture fills the room with an enormous painting surrounded by a gold frame hanging over a fireplace. The carpet is dark, brown or red, but it looks like it’s been there since the eighteenth century.

A large, dark, wooden desk sits opposite the door I’m brought through, and behind it is a man with salt-and-pepper hair, a nefarious look in his eyes.

He regards me as I move closer. The hand guiding me forward is not letting up until I’m right up against the edge of the desk. The man, who I’m guessing is the boss man, glares at me.

“There she is.” He grins manically, causing me to stumble backward, but I’m being shoved forward by the bald man. “You know, when I found out I had a rat in my company, I wondered just how I was going to get back at him.” He looks so calm as he speaks, like he’s telling me about the weather. “I did some digging, and once I found out all about his family, I shot him. The asshole bled out all over the floor.”

“W-what d-d-do you want from me?” My voice cracks, the tears that burn my eyes take over, and I’m tempted to turn around and run, but I can’t. I’m being blocked by the burly man.

“You, my darling, are just someone who got involved with the wrong family."

“I don’t understand,” I bite out, shaking my head in confusion. I never once got involved with anyone.

“You’re the love interest of a boy I want to bait closer. Until he’s in my clutches, I’ll keep you as a prize. I took down the man who thought he could infiltrate my business. Henry Montagu was nothing more than a dead man when he broke my trust.” There’s venom in his words.

I flinch back, wanting to run, to hide, but I know it’s no use. There’s nowhere for me to go. “I don’t understand why I’m here. I don’t know Henry Montagu.” It’s a lie, and the man before me can sniff it out.