Page 29 of Líadan's Code

While I know what that means, no one else asks. To be honest, the brute manhandling me doesn’t invite questions.

Thankfully, I get to limp into the bathroom to take a piss, nearly passing out as I groan.

“Fuck, I didn’t know I could have an orgasm while using the toilet,” I grunt, holding myself up against the wall the best I can. It would be really embarrassing to make it this far and end up taking a bath in my own urine.

Sighing, I flush the toilet and wash my hands the best I can in the sink. There’s a tiny sliver of soap, so it’s not the easiest task. Every step is a jab of agony as the adrenaline begins to drain from me.

I have to keep going because I have no idea what’s in store next.

Air drying my hands, I shake them off as I step back outside of the bathroom. Pants and a long-sleeved shirt are shoved into my hands and Bruin tells me to get dressed. I guess I need to go somewhere where I can’t hang out in my underwear.

I guess that’s a blessing.

Lifting my legs makes me grit my teeth as I get dressed, all while I listen to Bruin shoot the shit with those in the main building. The warehouse is nothing to write home about, though it makes me wonder how many other people receive the accommodations I did and simply don’t walk out.

Straightening, I hold back a wince as Bruin pushes me forward.

“God, you take forever. It’s like waiting for a goddamn woman to get dressed,” he grunts. I ignore him the best I can as he walks me out to his truck.

I almost whimper getting my body into that damn vehicle. I just want to curl up and go to sleep. The last few days have been rough, and I can’t help but replay the experience I had with the hot couple who tortured me.

I’m learning a lot about myself that I didn’t know. I didn’t think electrical play was a fetish I would enjoy until I was at their mercy. I’m typically the one in control, directing what happens, but I didn’t have any choice in this.

Shifting in my seat, I put my seatbelt on as I push the memories away, because I’m wearing sweatpants, and these fuckers won’t hide a raging erection. The drive through the streets of Chicago are quiet until we arrive at a diner and Bruin kicks me out.

“You have one chance at this, Mr. Miles,” he says. “Don’t fuck things up.”

There’s a man waiting in front of the diner with brown hair that’s longer in the front and tousled over his forehead. He’s wearing a long-sleeved shirt, a black coat, and combat boots.

“I have to say I’m a bit underdressed,” I state as I ease myself out of the truck.

The man tenses as his eyes move over me, noticing the bruises on my face, and the fact that I don’t have any damn shoes.

“Fuck me,” he mutters. “Bruin, you asshole.”

The man waves Bruin off as he pulls out his phone and makes a call.

“Hey, I was going to walk home, but I don’t think we’ll make it. Think you can come get us, Lía? I know, we’ll have to cross that bridge when you get here. Yeah,” he says before hanging up.

Turning toward me, he sighs. “Bruin is a bruiser and an idiot. The least he could have done was also give you shoes,” he says. “My name is Brendan, and you’re going to be staying with me. No offense, but you look as if you’re about to fall down.”

“I just need a shower and a nap. It’ll pass,” I rumble.

Brendan gazes at me with his piercing green eyes that appear to be seeing more than I’m saying before nodding. I don’t know why it feels as if I know him, but I’m getting this weird feeling of deja vu.

“If you say so, man,” he murmurs. “Have you eaten yet?”

“Not since Vermont,” I respond, a wave of exhaustion hitting me. Taking a deep breath, I remind myself I can’t pass out on a random street in Chicago. “So why am I staying with you? Not that I wasn’t staying at stellar accommodations before…”

“You talk a lot of shit, you know that?” Brendan asks. Something sparks in his eyes that looks suspiciously like respect, but I don’t need it.

I’m staying on my feet because I’m a fucking stubborn human being. When I do go down, it won’t be pretty.

“Maybe,” I say with a smirk. “Care to answer my question?”

“The boss wants you hidden away while you work for him,” he says. “He decided this was the best option.”

“You don’t think it is?” I ask, intrigued.

---