Page 13 of Cruel Crown

“We have to take her to Midway Airport where a jet will be waiting for her. We are not to engage. We are not allowed to follow; we are just escorting her out of here.”

“Do you know why? What’s with the tattoo?”

He looked at Daphne, his shoulders stiff, and the air in the room went lethal. “They’re an organization that has way too much power. They have their fingers dipped in everything shady—humans, drugs, biological weapons, arms deals—anything heinous you can think of they—she is behind it. A few years ago, we had a run-in with someone like her. We were told to drop it. Something makes them untouchable…” He pushed a chair out of the way before he went back into the room to tell Daphne she was going to be set free.

It was at that fucking moment I knew I wanted her more than I had before. I wanted to know every fucking secret and guard it as my own. So, I followed orders, I asked about her organization, and then I betrayed my own government.

***

Something poked my face. The burning was now gone, but I still felt sweaty, and my body ached. My eyes sprang open—well, one of them; the other kind of hurt and was shut by some oil. I came face-to-face with a dark-skinned older man with cotton hair. He smiled at me; he had a lot of wrinkles under his eyes and a knife to my eye.

What the fuck.

Not how I pictured Satan looking.

“Oh look, sleeping beauty has awoken,” a deep voice said on my left.

I pulled back my face from the old man and was ready to face Bastian, but Bas put his hand to my face, holding me in place for the old man to keep doing God knows what to me.

“What the hell happened?” I barked.

Once he saw I wasn’t going to move, Bas moved so I could see him better. He was wearing black commando jeans with a black muscle shirt. He smiled at me, making his oily eyes shine and his dimples pop.

“You don’t remember what happened?”

I wanted to roll my eyes, but I thought it wouldn’t be wise. “Please enlighten me, love.”

He sagged his shoulders in mock defeat. “I hate to be the bearer of bad news…” Bas was a dick; he looked happy about whatever he was going to tell me. “Robinson didn’t go for your trachea. Instead, he chopped off your dick, but don’t worry, the natives gave you a pussy.”

At that moment, I spurred my hand to life and moved it to touch my groin. “Fuck you,” I spat at Bas.

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” he added.

“Where the fuck is that bitch?” I spat, not caring about the man or why I was listening to the fucking bastard in front of me. I was in a shit mood now that the memories were coming back.

“I don’t know, mate,” he mocked me. “It’s just you and me and the lonely jungle.”

“Stop.” I put a hand up and sat up despite the pain in my chest. I was naked, nothing but a quilt covering my dick.

“Start talking or I’ll fucking kill you, and believe me, I am going to enjoy the feel of your blood coating my skin, the way your oily eyes will dim, and after that, I’ll send you in fucking pieces to the bitch that holds your leash.”

The fucker didn’t even bat an eyelash. He brought a stool and sat on it. “Let the man finish his job. Your eye was getting infected, so he had to scrape the pus around it.”

Now that he mentioned my eye, I brought one of my hands up to feel where the man was prodding. The bottom was fine, but my eye itself felt weird, wrinkled. It burned the moment I touched the eyelid, and I flinched. A chunk of hair was missing from my brow.

“And now you probably infected your eye more. Good job, asshole.” Bas pulled out a water bottle and drank from it.

I brought my hand down and turned to the old man. I looked at him and then remembered what Bas said about natives. He looked indigenous. Then I looked around and noticed we were, in fact, in the jungle but in some kind of tribe land.

Tilting my head down, I gave the okay for the man to finish doing whatever he was going to do. Now that my body was becoming aware, I noticed the discomfort in my throat. I brought my hand there next and felt the gash that covered me.

Bas stretched his hand, offering me some of his water. Hesitantly, I reached for it.

He smiled at me, revealing his dimples once more. “Don’t worry, I’m STD-free.”

“You’re fucking demented,” I murmured.

“Aw, is this your way of thanking me for saving your life?” He brought his hands to his chest.

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