ＨＩＳ ＡＦＴＥＲＧＬＯＷ - A Mafia Fiction

6- The Obnoxious Loki (M)

__________

All my flowers grew back as thorns,

Windows boarded up after the storm,

She built a fire just to keep me warm.

__________

He fucking drugged me.

My body felt so heavy, almost paralyzed, as I laid and looked at him with a glare. He gazed at me with an indiscernible look, walking away just as my eyes fell shut.

Right now, I am just waking from my drug-induced sleep, my head so light, my pain almost non-existent. They must be pumping me full of morphine. I raise my bed with the remote on my side and remove my blanket to look at my body.

My battered body. 

The back of the legs is covered in bandages, like almost every other part of me. I raise my gown, exposing my red underwear and my bruised torso. It's almost painted black and blue. There's a large, rectangular patch of bandage on my left side, probably on my broken rib. I raise my hand and feel my face, letting out a sigh as I feel no bandages or scars.

My throat hurts, though. Probably from being choked twice.

I'm surprised that my body endured so much.

"You look delectable, even with the bandages," a voice echoes from behind me.

Blondie.

"And you look like you just tortured someone. That's cool, too," I say, my comebacks lame as I am loopy from the drugs.

Forgive me.

Antony chuckles. He drags a chair from behind me to sit beside my bed, and before I can pull up the covers to hide my tan legs, he places his hands on my upper thighs.

Ooh, mama.

I gasp, heat rising my neck. I clench my core, a familiar tingling washing over me. I might be a virgin, but my mind certainly isn't. I know what being turned on feels like.

This is it. This is me feeling turned on as my captor puts his hands on my bandaged legs.

Yikes.

I gulp and clear my throat to say something, but he trails his fingers upwards, and I can focus on nothing but his innocent expression as he looks at me, a narrow smile on his lips. Very kissable lips.

What the hell is wrong with me?!

I glare at him, putting my hands on his broad wrists and stopping their ministrations, "Stop, please," I tell him in a meek voice, and he huffs and pulls away, resting back on the chair. Good to know there's still an ounce of self-control left in me.

I pull over the thin blankets, pressing my thighs together. Him being perfect all the time isn't helping at all. 

"So, you slept on it," he announces, looking at me, "quite understandably, I want to know what you're thinking now."

Riigghhttt. My brother.

Did he really leave me to die? Honestly, I don't believe that, but I don't believe that Antony's lying either.  And it's not like I can call my brother up and ask him what he's up to, but right now, things are looking bleak. I am a hair away from being buried six feet under, and even with the plans that Jai might be planning, I can't trust him.