With You

Chapter 2

I feel like death. Just absolute complete death.

Don't get me wrong, almost every day for years I've woken up in some kind of pain but this is a whole new level for me.

I attempt to open my eyes and get my bearing but I find myself struggling with the brightness of the room. Settling for keeping my eyes closed for a minute or two longer, I relax back with a sigh.

I take this chance a think back, trying to remember what caused me to end up feeling like this. My mind draws a completely blank. The confusion begins to hit me as I notice that whatever I'm laying on is extremely comfortable. Definitely not the huddle of blankets I sleep on in my room.

This realization has me forcing my eyes open with a hiss, squinting to see where I am. My eyes grow in size as I take in the unfamiliar room around me. Panic seizes my body, not entirely sure what is going on. I push myself up into a sitting position with a groan, my stiff body in unimaginable amount of pain.

Only when I go to move my arm to get more comfortable, it rattles and clangs at the movement. I glance to my side and find it attached to the bed rail with a handcuff that's connected to a small length of chain.

This is bad, very bad.

Whatever my Godfather has done now, it's resulted in me handcuffed, bandaged up, in loads of pain and somewhere new with no recollection.

I just pray he hasn't finally gone through with prosituting me out like he's threatened before.

I slowly go to check I'm still clothes by removing the blanket covering my body, having to stop half way from pain in my arm. Instead I take to kicking the blanket the rest of the way with my legs.

While I'm relieved to find myself clothes, my stomach still sinks at the fact that it's not my normal tattered clothes. Instead I'm dressed in a massive black t-shirt. Cuts and old bruises litter every inch of skin I can see.

Whatever this is, whoever this is, they haven't left me in great shape. On that note, I begin to take another look around the room. Searching for anything that might give me some kind of hint on what's going on, the bland room gives me no answers though.

The room has a very wood cabin feel to it with no personality. Just a bed and a dresser with a roof to floor-length window spanning one whole wall, with a makeshift curtain that does absolutely nothing to keep the light out.

I turn my focus back to the cuffs and start to tug again, hoping to maybe find a way to loosen them. I'm not trying for very long before I hear clanging and bangs from what I'm assuming is the other side of the house. It makes my blood run cold.

I realise that I'm not here alone, someone's out there and I'm sure they'll come in here to have their way with me while I'm so vulnerable. Every time I've been tied up like this, it's never ended well.

Panic seizes my body as I turn back to the cuffs and tug harder. Desperately trying to manipulate the cuffs in a way that they'd release. A noise outside the door to the room makes me involuntarily let out a cry of frustration as nothing I do works. My only accomplishment is making my wrist raw and painful.

The door opening suddenly has me jumping out of my skin and curling myself into a ball against the bedrail the best I can. Still tugging desperately at my wrist, refusing to be in a vulnerable position.

"What the fuck are you doing?" A very deep masculine voice has me freezing up. My desperate attempts at escaping the cuff ceasing the moment he spoke.

I know better than to reply so I sit silent, starting at the chains. The last time I tried to talk in a visitor's presence, I was beaten and starved for a week. Never again.

He doesn't seem to appreciate my silence though as he comes towards me with an annoyed huff. I curl further into myself as my gaze on the chains harden, almost praying that my glare will be enough to break them.

He comes to the edge of the bed and reaches out to grab my wrist that's chained up. My whole body freezes up as his rough hand grabs hold of my painfully sensitive wrist.

I turn my head slightly to sneakily glance at the mans face while he's distracted but the moment I do, I find my eyes stuck on his face.

He's rugged and huge. A stubbly beard covers his rough face and beautifully long lashes complimented his deep brown eyes which are still inspecting my wrist. He's probably one of the most handsome and yet tough looking men I've ever seen. His body screamed strong and powerful, with tattoos covering most the skin of his arms.

I'm sure many other women would fall head over heels at the mere sight of him. I can't deny that I find him attractive, most importantly though I know that his rugged and powerful appearance could mean more.

More bruises and more pain is all I'm hearing right now. Quite honestly, if the size of his muscles are anything to go by, the last thing I want is him near me causing me harm.

"What's your name and where are you from?" He asks once he finishes looking at my wrist, confusing me. Surely Alex, my godfather would've at least told him my name right. I wouldn't put it past him not to. I turn my gaze away from him, so he doesn't catch my eyes on his face. I debate if I tell him what he wants to know. Unsure if it's a test.

He doesn't give me time to come to a decision either way because he straightens his body away from the bed and with another annoyed grunt he starts towards to doorway.

"If you finally decide you want out of those cuffs, the least I'll need is your name" He roughly says while exiting the room. Leaving me chained to the bedframe, sore and confused.

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Authors note 💕

Please don't forget to give this chapter that pretty little star 💫  It makes all the difference and warms my heart everytime someone does.

Sending my love xx