Page 127 of Dr. Damaged Protector

I'm sorry I should have told you.

I couldn't handle this on my own, you were right.

I would give anything to see you now.

Lucas.

Lucas.

“Lucas… Lucas…” I slowly opened my eyes.

I was lying down on the floor. It was cold and I was naked. I looked around didn't recognize the room, but it smelled like urine and blood. Besides the pounding headache, the rest of my body seemed to be fine. I rolled onto my back and stared at the ceiling.

“Where am I?” I asked no one in particular. I continued to look around the room.

It looked like some kind of bedroom, judging by the closet and the obvious bed…but that smell. I felt nauseous and threw up to the side. I stared at the murky liquid that had escaped my mouth.

What exactly am I doing here?

I could vaguely remember what had happened. I was at the café, and Liam was there too. Then someone sprayed me.

I shouldn't have let my guard down.

I struggled to get to my feet but realized that my hands were bound behind my back and my legs were tied together. Whatever they sprayed me with was strong. The sight of my own vomit irritated me, so I moved my body to face the other side.

What is the right thing to do in a situation like this? Call for help?

“Lucas?! Lucas?! Is there anyone there?! Help!” I yelled with whatever strength was left within me.

“Is there anyone? Someone? Please?” I pleaded. “I want to go home.”

“Unfortunately, we won't be going home today,” a voice said as the door opened.

I was already facing the door, so I saw him walk in.

“Liam what is the meaning of this?” I asked, still struggling to sit up.

“You can't sit because your feet have been tied up, but let me help you,” he offered. Then he helped me to get into a sitting position.

He licked his lips after he was done helping me up. Taking a good look at my body, he smiled in satisfaction. My exposed breasts, in particular, excited him.

“What exactly happened?” I asked trying not to show how much his gaze irritated me.

“Well, we were having the talk as planned,” he started to explain, “then my friend came in and uh…sprayed you with sleeping gas. You passed out, we paid the management 'not to say anything, and we brought you here.”

“You're being surprisingly helpful,” I remarked. “Is your conscience finally working, and you have this indescribable urge to let me go?”

“Let you go? Oh no no no no no no no.” He shook his head negatively, waving a finger at me. “I mean at least not while you're in this condition.”

“Speaking of which, could you get me some clothes? I'm actually very cold,” I requested. “And it stinks in here. Isn't there any other evil room I can stay in?”

“I love how easy it is for you to make demands. Even in a situation like this,” he replied. “It makes you a very funny victim.”

“Victim?” I asked as the smell of the blood got worse.

He seemed to stop because the smell because he was wiping his nose. “I should have brought a facemask; inhaling all these toxic fumes isn't good for the system.”

“Exactly what I was saying. So, let's move to another room please? Please, Liam?” I said seductively.

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