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Hunting Adeline (Cat and Mouse Duet #2)(18)

Author:H. D. Carlton

Grabbing the scruff of Dr. Garrison’s collar, he lifts him up and suspends him over my face again. Immediately, I’m drenched in even more bodily fluids and brain matter. Barely closing my eyes in just enough time, I cover my face as Rio laughs and wrenches the body off of me, dragging him to the corner of the room.

Finally, the pressure eases, and I am able to breathe without coughing, but then a low whimper leaks past my lips.

My body curls in until I’m a tight ball, trying not to think about how blood is in my mouth yet thinking of nothing else.

I gag, my stomach revolting from the thought.

Something hard nudges my shoulder harshly, halting my retching. I lift my head enough to see Rio's boot, and then proceed to spit on it, pure red splashing on the black leather.

Two birds with one stone—a fuck you and an attempt to rid my mouth of Dr. Garrison's blood.

Rio doesn't appear bothered by it, though.

“You’re going to be fine. The dude was trying to kidnap you.”

“Just as you did. So, you’re saying you deserve the same fate, right?” I hiss, my body beginning to go into shock. I’m trembling violently, and there’s a numbness crawling up my arms and legs.

Stay calm, Addie.

Breathe.

Just breathe.

Rio laughs while I close my eyes and work not to freak the fuck out.

His presence closes in on me. I know that he’s crouched down, and hovering above me. Warm breath fans across my ear as he continues to chuckle.

“You have a smart mouth on you, but in this world, it’s not so smart. My advice? Dumb it down until the only words you’re capable of speaking is yes, sir. You’ll last much longer that way.”

A tear drips from my eye and I feel the beginnings of a sob forming at the base of my throat.

“Isn’t that what I’d want? To not last long? Better than suffering forever, right?”

He sighs wistfully. “You’re right. You’re going to die here anyway. I guess it’s not a matter of how long you last, but rather, how bad it hurts when it’s over.”

My lip quivers. He sighs again, and the frustration has seeped back into his tone.

“Come on, get up. We need to get moving.” He stands and walks a few feet away, looking back down at me. Waiting for me to follow.

Dazed, I manage to sit up. The pain is starting to settle back in my bones, making itself known once again.

“Can I at least shower first?”

Rio’s eyes sweep my crimson-stained body, and he grins at me. “Sure, princess. You can shower. But you can’t get those stitches wet on your back, so it looks like you’ll need my help.”

Shit.

Eyes boring into my ass were more tolerable than being covered in the entrails of a dead man. I kept my back to him while rivulets of blood washed from my skin. I nearly puked when I saw chunks and fragments of bone swirling toward the drain, too.

I mainly stayed out of the water and used a fresh rag and bar soap to clean up. Rio directed me on areas to avoid on my back, but didn’t touch me, and for that, I thanked the She-Devil above.

The hardest part was washing and rinsing my hair without bending too far over and giving him a view of what he called the “money maker.”

Fucking asshole.

The shower was in a quaint little apartment on a higher level in the building, much nicer than the makeshift hospital room below, but still no better than a cheap apartment in New York City.

I assume it’s where Dr. Garrison slept when he wasn’t operating on people brought in from human traffickers. He wore a wedding ring, though I saw no evidence indicating that a woman lived there with him.

Dear God, I hope she's not chained up somewhere.

Now, I’m in the backseat of a van again with a dark sack over my head, sopping wet, and shivering in my bonds like an old engine. The bastard failed to mention that there were no clean towels and got a kick out of watching me use a hospital gown to dry off. Even more so when I attempted to wrap one around my hair.

He wouldn't let me wear it, stating my hair is too pretty to bundle up in an ugly blue gown, but really, I think he just enjoys being a dick.

The clicking from my chattering teeth is swallowed by the hard rock music pouring from the speakers. My thick hair is still soaked, and the heat is on low—not nearly enough to keep me warm. If it weren’t for the lack of body contortion and levitation, it'd look like I’m in the middle of an exorcism from how hard I’m shivering.

It feels like I am. Everything hurts so goddamn bad, and with every tremble, the pain intensifies.

I’ve never been more miserable in my fucking life.

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