Damaged Queen (Darkness Within Duet 2)

“I’ll deal with her tomorrow. I’ll find out what I need,” Draven said, heading back to his office. He finished off his whiskey in one gulp. Without another look, he headed upstairs to his room.

He took a quick shower and went to bed naked. As he lay down, he stared up at the ceiling, curious.

Getting to his feet, he moved to his window and opened the curtains. Axel’s father had built the cells so that he got a perfect view from his bedroom—the room Draven now had. Everything had been fully refurnished, and it was his space now.

Staring at the building, he knew she had to be freezing.

The cells were not a kind place. The point of them was to break the women who still had a spine, who still hoped to escape and get help.

One night, even two, it helped them to see the error of their ways. If the cold didn’t get to them in the height of the summer, the heat did. The sun was always beaming down on the building.

Then if they could handle the extremes of the weather, there were the rats. One or two, just enough to freak them out.

The stench was another thing.

Of course, there was nowhere for them to go to the toilet either.

Draven closed the curtain.

There was a time he’d intended to knock that building down.

Axel never went near the cells. Too many memories and his friend wouldn’t talk about them. He stayed completely silent about the entire experience.

Draven hadn’t used them in years either. Harper was the first cellmate in a long time. Kind of poetic.

He climbed back into bed and continued to stare at the ceiling. She was back, and he had big plans for her, lots of plans.

He thought about this fiancé. The one who she left behind.

Did she love him? Did she care about him? Was she heartbroken to have left him?

Buck and Jett entered his mind, and along with it, the spark of ice that spread within him, threatening to consume him just by their memories alone.

Whatever Harper had coming to her, she deserved it.

He was going to have a lot of fun.

Chapter Four

Harper lost track of the time.

There was no blanket.

Nothing.

Just the icy chill of the night.

She sat on the mattress. From the moon shining into the room, she knew it had stains on it.

Blood? Piss? Semen?

She didn’t want to think about what went on here.

All she could see was Draven’s face, his eyes. He was dead inside. The boy she once knew was long gone.

Resting on the edge of the mattress, she watched the rat that had entered her cage. It scurried along the edge of the walls as if it didn’t have a care in the world.

Alan was gone, which meant she was alone now. There was no way of knowing what he’d said to them or made them all believe about her. Draven didn’t know she’d been forced out of Stonewall.

Forced to run so that he and the others could have been safe. Her suffering hadn’t stopped there. Alan controlled everything, what she did, where she went. There was no freedom. When he told her to look happy, smile, and stare up at a certain guy, she did it. Every single instruction, from each vulnerable innocent girl to each guy he asked her to look at happily, to look proud of what she was doing. Those girls didn’t deserve to be taken, to be fooled into thinking they were living better lives, but Alan had made her do it, to keep her guys alive. His threats hadn’t stopped there. If she didn’t do as she was told, he soon had enough evidence to send her to prison. No matter what, Alan held all the cards, and he relished it.

She didn’t see Buck and Jett anywhere. Were they waiting to take their pound of flesh?

She wiped away the tears and closed her eyes. Sleep didn’t come. The cold kept her awake. The time passed though.

She saw it was getting light, and as it did, it lit up the room, and she saw the filth that surrounded her. Staying perfectly still on the mattress, she couldn’t stop shaking. She was so cold.

Time still passed.

No sign of Draven. How long would he keep her here? Would he make her freeze to death?

She didn’t want to die.

Still, no one came.

Harper got to her feet and moved toward the window against the wall. She saw men milling around. They were smoking cigarettes, talking. None of them were looking toward her.

Stepping away, she went to the cell door. Wrapping her fingers around the bars, she tried to pull, to grip them, to get herself to freedom, to do something, anything, that would help her get free.

“It’s pointless.”

She released the bars and stepped back as Axel stood in front of her.