Page 22 of Keeping My Captive

You did this to her. It’s your fault. You could have stopped it, but you didn’t.

I haven’t heard from my conscience in such a long time, and it shocks me to my very bone marrow that I actually feel an overwhelming sense of guilt over all of this. This girl has my head going in several different directions at once. I can barely keep up. One minute I want to kill her, and the next I want to keep her and never let her go.

I run my hands through my hair, pulling at the ends in utter frustration. This is exactly the reason why I need to keep my distance. She’s already worming her way under my skin, and I can’t let that happen. Not now. Not ever.

“She will be all right. Not too much blood loss,” the doctor assures me. “Will have lots of scars, though.”

And his words suddenly send me tipping over the edge. “No scars,” I demand, my tone low and deep like an angry growl. My own voice sounds foreign, like some kind of feral animal.

“Qué?” he asks with a confused look on his face.

“I don’t want a single scar on her. Do what you can to make the incisions as small and neat as possible. Take care of her wounds so that they don’t turn into scars.”

“Some of these are so deep. I don’t know if that’s possible, Mr. Navarro,” he says, and I can hear the unease in his voice.

“Steady hands, Doc. Not. A. Single. Scar,” I say, enunciating every word. “If you fuck up, you won’t have your hands much longer,” I warn him. “Lo entiendes?”

He nods in agreement.

I watch every movement, every incision he makes, and I’m glad that Aria is unconscious for all of this. But when she wakes up, what will happen? Will she hate me for what was done to her?

Yes, I suppose she will hate me. She may never stop hating me for the rest of her life.

Shaking my head, I decide that I don’t care. I’ll take her hatred and any other emotion she wants to feel towards me. I’ll take all of them and absorb them, shaping and molding myself into a new creature like I’ve done for almost my whole life. I’ve been a chameleon for as long as I can remember, always adapting, always changing. In this world, you can never sit still for too long. Someone is always looking to take off the head of the snake. Someone always wants what you have, what you treasure the most.

Sighing deeply, I take one last long look at Aria before I force myself out of the room. I can’t become attached to her. It’s too dangerous. For the both of us.

CHAPTER13

Aria

THE NEXT SEVERAL days pass by in a blur. I’m barely coherent or awake for more than a few minutes every few hours. The pain when I wake up is excruciating; and every time I open my eyes, the man responsible for that pain is there. Always waiting. Always watching. Never leaving my side.

As soon as I wake up, groaning in pain, he’s there to shove a pill into my mouth and force me to swallow some kind of broth. The pill is nasty, but the broth tastes good; just like the chicken soup my mom used to give me when I was a little girl whenever I was sick. It gives me some semblance of peace when I slurp up the broth just before I pass out again.

I try to talk to Mateo, to ask him why he’s doing this, why he’s helping me, but my words come out in gibberish and slurred beyond recognition. I don’t know what he’s giving me, but I welcome the peace and the escape from the pain.

The next time I wake up and I’m semi-coherent, the pain feels just like a dull, throbbing ache. And so, I refuse the pill he tries putting in my mouth. “No,” I grumble, pushing away his hand.

“How is your pain?” he asks.

My eyes open and narrow into slits as I stare up at him. He’s sitting on the edge of the bed in his black designer suit, acting like he gives a crap about me when, in reality, he’s responsible for all of this. All of the pain I’ve been experiencing is because of him.

“How is your pain, Aria?” he asks, more forcefully this time.

“Not that bad,” I confess.

“Good, good,” he says with a nod before standing. “If you need anything for pain,” he starts, but I don’t let him finish.

“I hate you,” I whisper. Once the words are out of my mouth, I almost wish I could take them back. A fissure of terror courses through my veins, and my eyes dart up to his, fearful of his reaction.

“I know,” he simply says with a nod.

He knows?I guess I haven’t been exactly hiding my contempt for him. I’m sure it’s been written all over my face. I’ve always been told my poker face is less than stellar. Well, since I’m already pressing my luck, I decide to push even further. “I…I want to call my family,” I demand. It’s the least he can do considering what I just went through. When I see him hesitate, I quickly think up a lie and tell him, “My mom…she’s sick. I need to make sure she’s all right.”

Mateo’s gaze sears into mine, searching for the deception. I keep my face lax and neutral, hoping that he won’t see right through me. “Okay,” he says after an excruciatingly long time.

“Okay?” I say in disbelief. A huge sense of relief and hope blooms inside of my chest. I know my brother has technology on his phone that can track the call and find my whereabouts. If I make that call, maybe they can get me out of here. “Thank you,” I tell him, laying it on thick.

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