Page 126 of Petite Fleur

Why can’t I stop talking and just see what’s on the other side?

“Ma fleur, are you okay? You know you can go back upstairs, right?” He asks genuinely.

I give a short nod, sucking in a deep breath as I stare at the intimidating door that separates me from the unknown of my future.

I know that going through that door is something I can’t come back from, that even if I do nothing but sit there and watch, I’ll never be the same.

“I’m fine, sorry. Let's do this.” I say as confidently as I can manage.

Once the clinical white lights turn on, I'm glad I haven't been down here before now.

While it may not be what I had pictured, It's cold and terrifying anyway. Metaphorically and actually cold.

Everything is sterile looking and stainless steel or white. The only color in the room is the four men heavily strapped to cold metal tables. They're thrashing and yelling about how we're going to die and don't we know who they are.

"Shut up!" Leon snaps.

If I was talking, I'd shut up.

Heck, I even straightened my posture when he yelled.

"We're going to have a chat." Leon says calmly. Yet again, I'm reminded how cold and terrifying Leon can be, but I'm glad it isn't toward me.

"Fuck you!" One of the guys yells. I don't even know his name, I just know he's on the football team and his dad is rich. Like buy you a country type rich.

Leon does a little "tsk" but doesn't respond otherwise and walks further into the room that he'd locked behind us. "You can have a seat, ma petite fleur." He says calmly to me.

His hand trails down my cheek as he does so in a gesture that is sweet despite where we are.

So, I do. I take a seat at a small rolling stool that I assume is for him to rest his leg on while he heads into one of the large cabinets along the wall.

"What do you think, my love? Should I start off with something small like cuts? Or are we playing with fire?" Leon asks with his focus on me.

I gulp, unsure of what answer he wants from me, I’m not sure of anything right now.

"Untie us you stupid bitch!" Mark yells, turning his head to look at me, and I must say, he looks rough. His nose looks broken and crooked, there’s blood dried on his mouth and his nose, and it almost looks like he has a few teeth missing.

Did Leon beat him up last night? I clearly missed something here.

"That's not very nice." I say to him.

I'm not the one who tied him up and I'm certainly not the one who raped a woman.

"Fuck you! When I get out of here, you're fucking dead! I'll fucking kill you and fuck your corpse, bitch!" He yells. He even goes as far as to spit on me.

Leon hands me an antibacterial wipe and runs his knuckles along my cheek in what I assume is a silent way of checking on me.

"I'm okay." I promise him.

Leon turns to look at Mark, his face terrifying and cold, like a mad man stalking his prey and I’m reminded of this very valid fear I have of him. "Threaten to harm my girl again and I will set you on fire and make her a fucking s'more with the flames of your body. I will use your pathetic cries and screams for mercy as music to slow dance across this room with her. Do not test me." He informs him.

Even I gulp at that.

"What's your plan?" I ask Leon. He turns and smiles down at me, his knuckles still gracefully tracing my cheekbone as he speaks. "I want them to tell me what they did to Abby so I can decide how they die." He explains.

"That bitch? She asked for it!" One of the guys yells.

Leon's mask slips and the cold face he wears is back as he stares at the men. "Asked for it? You mean by simply existing as a woman in your world? Or for going to a party that you attended? I know for a fact you had to bribe her friend to spike her drinksince she was smart enough not to take a drink from strangers." Leon explains.

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