Page 14 of Trapped

Has it been hours yet?

“Because I hate them all,” I spit out, my animosity lacking any bite. I’m floating, my body caught in the air, my thoughts spun around my consciousness.

“Who?”

“My…” My throat constricts and I choke out a dry cough, fingers curling against the web for another useless attempt to break free.

“Enzo!” An order is barked, followed by a gentle tilt of my head. Then, a cool liquid is pressed against my lips.

“Drink.”

I sputter, jerking my face trying to escape the liquid. “F—fuck off,” I choke, then grimace in pain when the bodyguard grabs me by my hair and jerks me back to the drink, this time less friendly.

“It’s just water,” he grunts into my ear. “You need to come down, Robin, and water will do the trick.”

“Va-te-faire…” I don’t manage to finish the swear words, because the next second, he angles my head all the way back and liquid is falling down in a storm of droplets that hit my nose, mouth, and ultimately, my throat. I sputter and wheeze, before my mind droops in relief. It’s water.

After a few gulps, he removes the bottle from my lips, then releases my hair, carefully not to push my nose against the thread. So far, my face is the only part that hasn’t been taken by the brilliant strands, aside from two useless fingers. As if to make a statement, the bodyguard takes out a pair of scissors and cuts the silk wire right in front of me, making sure that my face is left free.

“There.” With that word, he disappears back into the darkness. I stay like this for an undefined moment, while my thoughts swallow me up once more.

“My family,” I admit, although the question has long been absorbed. “I hate my family.”

It’s actually not as hard as I thought it would be, sharing these words with someone else, provided he’s still here. Even if that someone else is wearing a cloak and a mask and has me trapped into some fucked up spiderweb in the middle of the night in Monterrey Forest.

“Hmm,” is all he says, voice smooth and soft. I still can’t see him, although I’ve got the feeling that my vision is becoming a little clearer. Or perhaps that’s yet another mindfuck. Regardless, it gives me more strength to share my next words.

“I was never like them. My dad, my brothers, they are…typical rich people, if that makes sense?” I wince at the judgemental choice of words. “I was more like my mom.” The thought of Mom makes my words falter. When I don’t speak for the next few seconds, Copper Mask asks,

“Was?”

“Yeah, she, uhm…she left me. Us. She left us. It’s been a while.” My voice breaks at the end, and I hate myself for it.

“I didn’t know,” he says. I huff out a snort.

“Yeah, well, you don’t know me.”

“Oh, I know much more than you think,” he throws back, causing a shiver to run down my spine.

“What does that mean?” I ask.

He lets out a raspy chuckle. “You know what that means, papillon.”

“Stop calling me that.”

He doesn’t reply for a moment, and I’m left fighting with the dark-brown silk. What the fuck did he use to make it stick like that?

“I think my patience hit its limit.”

Those words, and the hungry growl that follows, are the only warning I get, before a rustle passes through the shrubs right across from me. I expect the trees to bend forward, their branches and leaves bowing right in front of me. I blink, throwing the hallucinations away.

His black cloak flutters around his shoulders as Copper Mask slowly makes his way forward, and my legs kick and thrust against the web. Not the trees, but it’s him, sliding down onto his knees in an agile crouch as he lowers himself until our eyes meet.

“You like that, huh? Going down on your knees for me?” I snarl, voice thin with strain.

Copper Mask curls his lips into a slow, lazy smile that makes me feel helpless and annoyed as it brings a loathsome flutter to my stomach.

“I do,” he admits. There’s something about his mouth that makes it beautiful. Perhaps it’s the way his lower bottom lip sticks out that tiny bit, looking wet and full and perfectly edible.

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