Little Lamb

20 ❦ nothing really ends

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"I know what you did, Lola," Riggs' voice echoed through the darkened room.
"I know you let him taste you."

My breath caught in my throat, and my body tensed as the weight of his words crushed my chest. I struggled to find my voice, but nothing came out. The room seemed to close in, the walls suffocating, the air thick with tension.

Riggs stepped closer. "Did you think I wouldn't find out?" he asked, his tone low and dangerous. "Did you think I wouldn't know what you did in my office? That I wouldn't notice the way he looks at you... or the way you look at him?"

Tears stung my eyes as I shook my head.
"Riggs, please," I whispered, my voice trembling.
"I didn't mean for it to happen... it just—"

"Just happened?" Riggs interrupted, his lips curling into a bitter smile. "You think that makes it any better? That it was just some mistake, something you didn't control?"

My heart pounded in my chest, my pulse thundering in my ears. I wanted to reach out to him, to explain, to make him understand that it wasn't what he thought, that I was lost, confused, and desperate. But the words tangled in my throat, refusing to form.

Then, without warning, Riggs grabbed me by the throat. I choked—

I bolted upright in bed, gasping for breath. My skin was slick with sweat, and I blinked, trying to shake off the nightmare, but his words lingered, sharp and accusing.

What was I doing? How had I let things spiral so out of control? I wasn't even sure how I felt about Allister. He was just there, and in that moment, I needed to feel something—anything—other than the numbness that had taken over. But now, all I felt was regret, and disgust at myself.

I pressed my palms against my face, trying to ground myself. The soft industrial hum of the factory echoed in the room, and I noticed the pile of clothes I'd discarded the night before on the ground.

I threw the covers off and swung my legs over the side of the bed, my bare feet touching the cool floor. I needed to move, to shake off this feeling.

Standing up, I walked over to the small mirror hanging on the wall. My reflection stared back at me, my brown warm skin was now pale and drawn, with dark circles shadowing my eyes. I looked like I hadn't slept well in days, which wasn't far from the truth. But at least I was back in my room. A part of me was relieved to have left Riggs' office, but another part wished to still be there, in his presence.

After splashing water on my face, I tried to shake off the dread, deciding that a shower might help clear my mind. When I finally turned off the water and stepped out, I wrapped myself in a towel.

I pulled on a pair of sweatpants and a white t-shirt, needing to cover myself, as if that could somehow hide the shame. The bandage on my leg was stained with blood, it needed changing. But that would mean seeing Allister.

I ran a brush through my hair and then opened the bathroom door, stepping into the hallway. That's when I saw him. Riggs, standing just a few feet away, his gaze locked on me.

My heart skipped a beat, and I froze.

The sight of him made my breath catch in my throat. He looked so casual, so calm.

"Morning," he said, his voice even. He handed me a cup of warm tea, a plate with food in his other hand. He had been bringing them to me.

"Morning," I mumbled. My hands shook slightly as I wrapped them around the warmth of the cup. I could barely bring myself to look at him.