CAPTURED BY HIM (Book I: Captured series)

6. Elle

Panic hijacked my entire body, paralyzing every movement. My breath got caught up in my throat as I saw all options of me getting out of here disappear. No, it got taken away. And the man in front of me was responsible for it. All of it.

Logan took a step back, glancing me head to toe as he pulled out a leather pouch out of his charcoal grey suit. Questions popped to my head but I didn't speak a word. I couldn't. I knew exactly what was about to happen next and to be honest I wasn't a bit afraid.

He opened the pouch flat out on the bed, revealing its contents. Picking up a small knife he reached for his coat again, taking out a flask. I watched as he sanitized the blade with alcohol, some of it fell on to the floor creating a tiny pool with glass pieces in it.

With our eyes locked I saw a flicker of excitement in him, like he was going to enjoy hurting me. Asshole. I didn't budge as he stepped in closer. I could tell he expected me to back off in fear, probably beg him but none of that was about to take place. I've had lots of experience with knives and blades especially after my mother passed away. Although I put an end to it a long time ago, there have always been moments in my life where I've wanted to run to the kitchen and slice myself open again. And this right here was one of those moments.

Logan kneels down in front of me, his ice cold fingers burn my skin as I watch intently. Deep red liquid oozes out from where he just sliced me. I was expecting to feel some kind of pain but I barely even felt the sting of it. "This might hurt a little" His golden gaze reached me as he spoke softly. It was odd to think of him being anything but cold and cruel. "Do you always walk around with your kit?" I questioned as he reached for a pair of tweezers.

"Depends" He dragged, eyes going back to his task. And then I felt it, a shooting paining as the cool tweezers got forced into the incision on my hip. In that moment I wanted to grab on to his shoulders but the sane part of me held its ground.

He dug around for a couple of minutes as I whimpered helplessly under his torture. Was he deliberately making me suffer?

Streaks of blood flowed down my right leg and just when I thought I could no longer take it, he pulled out a piece of plastic chip. He lay the chip on a napkin and stowed it away in his pocket. The next part was what I knew I was going to hate the most. With a thread in one hand and a needle in the other, he looked like surgeon. A very good looking surgeon for that matter.

Wait! Did I really just think that? What the fuck is wrong with me?

"Now you ruined your chances of getting food for the next couple of days, the maids must be shitting scared after your outbreak" He spoke nonchalantly as he wiped off blood from his tools and neatly tucked them away.

My whole body throbbed in pain and all I wanted to do was sleep. Let unconsciousness take over my mind and dull all the suffering. "Looks like you've had enough for the day" He commented, studying me carefully. I realized I was still standing in my undergarments and stared to reach for my shirt on the floor, but the minute I bent over I felt a jab of pain in my chest making me cry out.

"You know you don't have to be this way, hurt and miserable. Just fucking cooperate and you might survive" Was all I heard as he walked out on me.

***

I don't remember falling asleep so when I was woken up by an unfamiliar male voice, I sat up in a startle. My eyes took their own time getting adjusted to the bright sunlight, and when I could finally see again I met with a warm golden gaze. He sat there in a chair in front of my bed, his gaze examined me observantly and that's when I realized I had not even managed to get dressed up before hitting the bed.