The man groaned as he pulled himself up to lean against the bars of the cage. He used his hands to pull his mangled leg to a more normal position.
“Oh, God, what have they done to you?”
His eyes flashed open. I trembled as the sharp green irises met mine. They were dark and tortured, fierce like a wild animal ready to attack. His lips pursed together and his sharp angular jaw clenched. He looked like he was mentally ready for battle, but his body was so ravaged with pain that his muscles refused to cooperate. He had tattoos running the length of his muscular arms. Actually, he was muscular all over. If we weren’t in such a fucked up scenario right now, I’d say the guy was hot. Like badass hot, but from the looks of him now, the guys below were trying to break any badass he had in him.
“What do they want from us?”
His eyes locked on mine, watching, steady and calm. The men torturing him hadn’t broken him yet. “Pain,” he said.
My heart pounded faster, harder, and the nausea swirled inside like a tornado threatening to sweep across me and take any sanity I had left. “Why? I don’t even know who these psychos are.”
His head tilted to the side and I gasped when I saw the ravaged area on his neck. My hand went to the bruise just below my right ear. His smile was cruel, eyebrows rising as he watched my reaction.
“Yeah, blood too,” he said.
I ran to the corner of the cage, fell to my knees, and vomited. I had a will of iron, but that had burned right through it.
His voice was deep and ragged as he continued, “They’ve no feelings, no remorse. And . . .”
I wiped my mouth with my arm and turned my head. “What?” I had to know. I needed to know what they’d do to me.
“He’ll never give up until he has what he wants,” he said.
“And what does he want? I’ve never seen these bastards in my life.”
“A woman. A powerful woman who will make him stronger.” He ran a hand over his face, wiping the water away. “You?” He shrugged and then grunted at the slight motion. “I don’t know what he wants with you.”
I kept on my knees and slid across the metal floor until I was closer to him. “How long have you been here? Who are they?”
He remained silent, eyes delving into mine, scanning down my body and then back up to my face. A throbbing rose in my head as if his magnificent eyes were drilling into it. Then suddenly it stopped.
“A week maybe, not sure. Time tends to get away from you here.” He ran his hand through his wet umber hair. “Don’t fight him.”
“Are you crazy? The first chance I get, I’m getting out of here.” He scowled and I nodded to the device that sprayed him. “Why the water?”
He stayed silent.
I saw the pain in his features, his brows lowering, eyes closing, and the lines in his face accentuating. “Are you okay? I mean, I know you’re not with what they did to you. How can you still be conscious?”
“Do not fight him,” he repeated. “If you do, it’ll be worse.”
“Fuck that. You might just sit and take what’s dished out, but I sure as hell won’t. One chance, that’s all I need, and I’m out of here.”
“A chance you will never get.” He laid his head back against the bars and closed his eyes.
I sat and wrapped my arms around my legs. I hated the silence, the sparks of the fire below the only sound in the underground hell. “What’s your name?”
“Balen.”
“I’m Danielle—Danni. These bastards grabbed me walking back from dinner with my friend. I think it was the same guys who were attacking this guy my friend is dating.” I heard him curse beneath his breath. I thought he said, “I’m so screwed,” but it was too muttered to be certain. “Are these guys wanted by the police? Are they at least looking for us?”
He huffed.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“The police will never come to your rescue, little one,” he said.
“Don’t call me that.”
He opened his eyes, head rolling to the side so he could look at me. “You’re little compared to me.” Well, yeah, he looked over six feet. “And delicate.”
Delicate? I hadn’t been called that since my father had died. Even though I was this rebellious, smartass kid who spoke her mind, my father refused to admit his daughter was anything but his delicate rose. My mouth had managed to get me into all kinds of trouble in school.
“Hey, Balen, when I escape, I’ll get the police to come get you. Don’t think I’m just going to leave you here.”
“You won’t escape.” He sighed. “Fuck, maybe if we’re lucky, others will find us, but without their help, we won’t ever escape this place.”
“God, you’re negative.” I shook my head. I was beginning to feel better just talking to this guy. At least my stomach had settled. Normality. That was all I needed, some sort of normality. “Can’t you have some hope? I mean, people get out of bad situations all the time. All we need is one mistake and—”
“You don’t get it. They aren’t normal.” He pounded his fist against the floor of his cage and the metal vibrated.
Footsteps.
I scrambled to my feet and gripped the bars as I peered down. It was that man, the one who held the sledgehammer. He strode across the stone floor as if he were floating. Calm, confident, and tall, with long black hair that reached past his shoulders. He gave a single nod to the man at the cranking device and then his head tilted up and our eyes met. Red. His eyes were red. God, what the hell kind of drugs was he on? I lost my footing as my cage began to lower.