Page 33 of Cruel Knots

“You can pee in the bucket or just let loose on the floor,” he says with a chuckle. “We’ve got staff to clean up if you choose the second option.”

My cheeks flush with embarrassment. Neither option will save me a shred of dignity.

“Here, let me get those off you.” Moving closer, he starts taking the shackles off my wrists. He does everything with the air of a helpful gentleman.

He’s absolutely crazy, I think but feel relieved when the tight manacles fall away.

“Thanks,” I mutter.

I must be going crazy as well. Who thanks their captor for something like this? They shouldn’t have chained me up like an animal in the first place!

I wait for him to leave but Mikhail stays crouching beside me.

“Aren’t you going to leave?” I ask.

“Nah. Damien told me to take care of you. There’s no way I’m slacking when you’re the guest.”

Anger and frustration rise within me. Did he just call me a fucking guest?

My bursting bladder makes it difficult to argue with him anymore. I have to use the bucket or risk peeing on the floor like a helpless baby.

Snatching the bucket out of his hand, I stomp to the farthest corner of the basement. My cheeks flush with embarrassment as I awkwardly sit on the bucket.

The darkness of the underground room allows me the tiniest bit of privacy but as soon as I start peeing, a loud splash erupts in the quiet space.

As if being naked and peeing in front of him on a bucket isn’t humiliating enough, I take an embarrassingly long time to be done.

“Stop! Don’t come over here!” I cry out when Mikhail starts walking toward me.

He halts. “Don’t you want to wipe yourself?” he says, extending his hand toward me.

He should just kill me, I think, moving toward him. Getting close enough, I snatch the roll of toilet paper from his hand.

Soft chuckles escape him. He seems to be enjoying this more than when he was pumping his naked cock down my throat.

“How’re your hands?” he asks after a while.

“My hands?”

“Are you able to rotate your wrists freely?”

I stare at him dumbfounded but doubt he can make out my stricken expression in the darkness. He and his brothers took advantage of me, leaving me a sore, aching mess, and all he cares about are my wrists?

“You’re an asshole,” I shout.

“Is this what I get for trying to take care of you?”

I scoff. “You wouldn’t do this to me if you cared at all!” I shout. My chest heaves with the force of my emotions but there’s something else about this whole thing.

It feels good to curse and shout at Mikhail. No matter how much my brother tormented me, I never had the guts to rebuke him. He held our dad hostage, so I could never stand up to him.

“This is nothing compared to what you and your brother did to us,” Mikhail says in a grim tone.

“What did I ever do to you? I don’t even know you!”

“You were the reason he hurt us so mercilessly.” His voice is a low, animalistic growl that sends a spike of terror through me.

The beautiful, handsome faces of the boys I loved rise before me once more. Damien, Leon, and Mikhail. They shared the same names as these rogue alphas but they died a long time ago.

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