Page 7 of Wanted
Holding on to the tiles, I prayed for him to drug me. I didn’t want to think of my mother dying in her bathtub. Murdered by Travis Cross. She hadn’t killed herself, which was a relief. I’d spent years thinking we drove her to her death. We weren’t enough. Aris. Weston. Me. But we’d been enough. She’d loved us. She never wanted to leave us.
Aram took her from us.
Travis helped him.
Tears blurred my vision, but I saw enough to realize Fylox wasn’t stepping into the shower with me.
“Take off your clothes,” he instructed me. I’d never been asked to take off my clothes for any other reason than fucking. This was… refreshing. I didn’t let it get to my head. One by one, I ripped the fabric from my skin. The shirt and jacket I wore clung to my cuffed wrists. I didn’t wear tracksuits. I was the Princess of Katantia. People bowed down to me.
I disappointed my people. I left them…
Cold water poured down upon my skin, and my body shook harder than before. I didn’t open my eyes, for I didn’t want to see the stranger in the room witness my breakdown. I leaned against the cold tiles, engulfed in the ice-cold water tickling my skin.
“Why aren’t you begging?” he asked. I barely heard him because my ears were ringing.
“Begging for what?” I hiccupped.
“Beg me to turn the temperature up. Turn the temperature up yourself. What are you doing?” There was panic in his voice. It boosted my ego.I’m so proud of you. Sweetie, you’ll be the greatest princess this island has ever seen. We just have to be very careful about who you call your friend. Your status will cause envy…
I wanted her to leave my thoughts. I had a job to do, convince Fylox to like me. I couldn’t focus with her running circles around in my mind.
The cold shower stopped, and goosebumps decorated my skin. Whereas I thought I was shaking before, now, I could barely stand in one place. Nothing covered my body, and I knew a decent girl would protect her intimate areas.
I wasn’t decent. I was filthy. I deserved this. I’d grown up like this, debased and brutalized. I laughed at myself. A cold shower was brutal all of a sudden? Try fitting two dicks in your pussy. Fuck.Kamila, focus.
Time passed, and I dried up without the help of a towel. When I finally composed myself, I realized Fylox was standing farther away than before. There was a crease on his forehead, worry and pity substituting for his early fury.
“What the fuck are you looking at?” I bit back.
“Language.”
“SERIOUSLY!” I hated myself. I couldn’t control my mood swings. I’d just gone on a date with a shower, cleansing all the journey’s dirt from my body. Yet, I still felt nasty. Used. Dripping in dust.
“Dinner’s in three hours. I’ll bring your clothes. I have to lock your door, but I will remove the handcuffs.” Fylox approached me. We didn’t look at each other as I lifted my wrists for better access. There were open wounds already, my blood traveling across the back of my hand. I didn’t bother caring about it. It was just blood.
When he removed the handcuffs, I dropped my arms from his hold. The first thing I did was run my hands through my hair. It wasn’t even mine anymore. I’d been forced to change its color. I’d lost my character. Everything was changing around me.
I’d expected it.
I’d wanted it.
But living through it in four strange walls wasn’t all I had envisioned it to be.
♥♠♥
“Fylox?” a female voice yelled from outside. I stared at the ceiling from my position on the floor. Did he have friends over while I was locked up in this room?
“Fylox, where are you?” the voice called. Americans sounded different from us; we had a mixture of everything in our language. This girl sounded tender, sweet almost.
When I didn’t hear her voice again, reluctantly, I picked myself up. I slogged into the bathroom, intending to clean myself up properly.
I had a couple of hours to myself. I inspected the soaps and lotions, discovering that nothing had a scent to it. In Katantia, I had some friends mix blackberry into all of my custom-made toiletries.
It didn’t matter. I was able to wash my body just fine. I dried myself off after almost an hour of wasting my host’s water. I had a lot to think about. I didn’t like to reminisce about what I’d left behind. All I could envision was chaos. While I was a rulebreaker at heart, I had fucked shit up. I didn’t want to imagine what plans of torment went through Aram’s mind.
After finishing, I sat on the bed, gawking at the digital watch on the nightstand. My wrists itched. I hadn’t found any tape to shield the wounds, so they dried openly.
The time passed quickly. I kept feeling my heart pacing, and I sweated more than usual, although I was just sitting there at the edge of the bed, doing nothing. It reminded me of a time I had managed to survive once already, withdrawal. Every time you went down the rabbit hole of drug use, you had to dig yourself back up again.
