Rick looks at him with an accusatory expression on his pock-marked face, but otherwise, he keeps his mouth shut, clearly taking Rio’s threat seriously.
It’s obvious Rio fucked up, and there’s a part of me that hopes they kill him for it.
“My name is Dr. Garrison,” the gray-haired man introduces, deliberately stepping in front of Rio. Swallowing, I stay silent. If the creep expects me to give him my name as if we're in a fucking interview, then he can shove the IV pole up his ass.
“How are you feeling?” he asks, taking a step closer. I bristle, and before I can tell him precisely what I’m feeling, he powers on, seeming to sense my incoming smart-ass response. “I imagine a headache. Any nausea?”
I tighten my lips. Probably for the best that he diverted the questioning. My mouth is only going to get me killed if I let it run wild.
I’m not going to get away with that like I did with Zade—though I’d still consider ‘getting away with it’ subjective. Even when he first made himself known and terrified the absolute shit out of me, there was always an odd sense of security in pushing his buttons, as if deep down, I knew Zade would never truly hurt me. Something that only makes sense now that he’s managed to worm his way into my life.
The man is incredibly dangerous… to everyone else but me. Even when he had a loaded gun pointed in my direction and used it for more than just a weapon.
But these men? Not only would they hurt me, but they would kill me, too.
“Nausea,” I clip, my voice still hoarse. Dr. Garrison begins fiddling with the IV, replacing the empty fluid bag with a new one. I hope it's morphine.
I drain the rest of the water in my cup, yet it does little to acquiesce the perpetual dryness in my throat. No matter how many times I lick my chapped lips, there’s never enough moisture.
“You have a pretty nasty concussion. Which means we’ll have to monitor you closely. I want to ensure you receive no further damage.” He shoots the pair a nasty look, and I get the feeling this is something they already argued over.
My mouth moves on autopilot, opening and readying to tell him not to waste his time—the two other men will ensure that my body endures plenty of more damage.
Sensing my intent, Rio snips, “I dare you.” His voice is stern and threatening, drawing my attention to him. “Your pussy will still work regardless, even if you’ve got brain damage.”
My mouth snaps closed, and I avert my gaze back to Dr. Garrison. His lips flatten into a white line, seemingly not impressed with Rio’s crude words.
Keep your mouth shut, Addie. We just went over this, dumbass.
“You’ve experienced extensive trauma, and despite what anyone says—” he gives Rio a nasty look— “we need you in tip-top shape.”
They need me in shape so that I will be worth something. But I don’t argue, not when it benefits me. Healing means gaining the energy to flee.
Licking my lips, I ask, “What day is it?”
“You really think that’s important?” Rick barks. “You don’t get to ask questions.”
I struggle not to mouth back. My lips tremble with the urge to impart nasty, hateful words to spew past them. But I manage to refrain.
“It’s Thursday,” Dr. Garrison answers anyway, ignoring the filthy look from the grungy man.
Thursday…
It’s been five days already since the car accident.
Zade would be looking for me by now. Most likely out of his mind and on a rampage… Jesus, he’s probably going to kill a lot of people. No, he definitely is. And when a grin begins to form, I know that man has well and truly corrupted me.
“Something funny?” Rick asks. I squash the grin and shake my head, but all I can think is that even though I may die, so will all of them. And their end is going to be so much worse than mine.
As the fantasies take root in all the ways Zade will wreak havoc, my eyelids begin to grow heavy, and fatigue weighs down the little burst of adrenaline I was running on.
The three men watch me closely, and even in my concussed, broken state, I don’t need a scientist to tell me that whatever he drugged me with, it's not morphine.
My eyes land on Rio, and my lids involuntarily close before I force them open. His lips quirk up at the sides, dry amusement swirling in those dark pits.
“Time to go to sleep, princess.”
Chapter 2
The Hunter
It’s not very often that people surprise me.
I expect the worst from everyone, even myself. Especially myself.
But when that voice registers through the fog of agony clouding my head, all I can feel is astonishment and the cold press of metal in the back of my skull.