𝐋𝐈𝐌𝐈𝐓𝐄𝐃 (𝟏𝟖+)

Twenty-five

I wanted to throw up at the feeling of his lips on my forehead. They lingered there for much longer than needed, and I felt myself on the verge of tears. It wasn't just the kiss that made me break, it was all of it.

I cursed the day I laid my eyes on him. I cursed the stupid day I decided to go on a date with him, I cursed the day I decided to give him my virginity, and I cursed the day where I had the opportunity to kill him, but didn't.

Had I known any of this, that man would've been dead ages ago. Sure, I would've been in jail, but anything is better than the personal prison he created for me. My personal hell, and he was the devil.

Oftentimes, I thought about the course of my life. What the hell did I do in my past life to have this one to get this bad?

No amount of therapy was going to fix this, if I made it out alive.

Was there any point in trying to be positive? Was there, truly?

Hope was long gone out of my mind, heart too. All I thought about was my childhood, mostly. The time before I met Milo, and the time when I last knew what true happiness was.

I remembered my sweet sixteen. It was a celebration like no other, as per usual, since my parents did their best to make it memorable. Even back then, they were big in their business and in that whole world, and we agreed, they'd host a party for their business partners and then another one for me and my friends.

I never wanted a lavish party, with lots of people. I invited a group of friends from school, and a few relatives. The decoration consisted of balloons, and a sweet table. That was all I needed. Of course, mom baked us some food. Legally, we weren't allowed to drink. Mom turned a blind eye to the many, many beer cans and empty wine bottles.

At some point, dad joined us for a drink or two.

It was a great night. In the end, we put a lot of blankets on the floor, many pillows too and had a sleepover. Honestly, nothing in the world could've compared to the happiness I felt back then. Those were my friends, and none of them cared that the party wasn't as fancy as it could've been.

Then, my thoughts drifted onto the evening when I met Luka for the first time.

I didn't know back then that his club wasn't a regular one. I had a fake ID, and got in smoothly. However, I was busted the moment I sat my ass on the bar stool.
Luka was sitting next to me, as gorgeous as ever.

Quite frankly, I was unable to take my eyes off of him for a solid two minutes. Immediately, as our eyes met, he insisted on seeing my ID, and informed me that he owned the club.

I was sweating like crazy and my face alone told him what he needed to know.

The bastard kicked me out.

But not before I managed to get a good look around the place. I wasn't an idiot, and was aware of what BDSM was, though merely as what the rest of the people knew. I wasn't that well educated on the subject, and the place made me intrigued.
The next weekend, I tried sneaking back in.

Key word: tried.

The security let me pass, but Luka was standing at the entrance, behind the security guards, arms folded in front of his chest as he gave me a disappointed look.

''Did I, or did I not tell you not to come back?''

I grinned, ''You told me I shouldn't come back, not that I can't.''

He looked at me, eyebrows raised at the awful response I'd given him. Blinking a few times, he shook his head and offered to buy me a drink. I was reluctant to accept, though his pretty face was enough to convince me that he might not be a maniac.

Now that I thought about it, I wanted to laugh. It was that mindset that brought me here in the first place. I thought the same of Milo, and look where it got me. Pretty men couldn't have it all, something had to be missing.

Instead of mentally destroying myself, since there was not much left of the emotional stability left, I closed my eyes. Slowly, the pain seemed to worsen. My whole body ached all of a sudden, to the point of it being unbearable. The agony soon took over my body and I found myself slipping into a world of nothingness.

•••

I tried to keep count of how many times I'd woken up before Milo injected something through an IV to put me back to sleep. After six, I was too dizzy to remember how to count. It was irrelevant, though.

Whatever the bastard was giving me was getting rid of the pain, and although it was beneficial for me, I was worried about what exactly was he giving me.
When I came to, I managed to take a deep breath. My eyes felt dry, as if I hadn't been asleep for god knows how many hours.

I was no longer laying down, either. There were three pillows that were propped behind my back, giving me more of a sitting position. I gave myself enough time to glance in front of me, to get used to the overwhelming fatigue that simply wouldn't go anywhere.

''You're awake.''

I was startled at the voice. It was soft, feminine and although the tune was delicate, no emotions were in the tone. Slowly, I turned my head to the side, only to be met with a pair of icy eyes.

Her long, dark brown hair was messy, matted. She had dirt on her cheeks, residue of mascara underneath her eyes.

Just like I was a while ago, she was chained to the bed, both arms and legs. However, she didn't seem concerned about it. Almost as if this was something that was a regular occurrence.

''You probably shouldn't try to speak,'' She advised, and it was true. As I opened my mouth, I found myself unable to utter a single word.

It was as if I'd been given a high dosage of drugs, as my whole body was oddly relaxed. No pain anywhere, aside from my throat, which was aching like crazy.

I made eye contact with the girl, holding it for minutes. I tried to ask her all the questions silently, and it took her a while to understand what I was trying to do.

''I don't know about you, but I've been here for the past six days. By the looks of it, you've been here for longer.'' She stated and I felt my heart beginning to speed, racing, threatening to leap straight out of my chest, ''What I do know is that the motherfucker is here three times a day, changing your bandages on your stomach and feeding you through the IV. Also, he's given you such a high dose of morphine which is why you've been sleeping a lot. And, my name is Celine.''

Now that I gave her a better look, she did look exactly like Elijah, only a lot more gentle. Her whole demeanor screamed gentle, and no matter how much I tried to deny it, she wasn't here because Milo actually wanted or needed her.

She was here for Milo to put on a show. I didn't even want to think about what he would do to her if his hands were forced by Elijah.

Celine tried to give me a reassuring smile, but it faltered quickly, ''My brothers are looking for me. Looking for us, and I know they will eventually track down this bastard, but I can only hope that it wouldn't be too late.''

I began to panic and she noticed it too. She was silent for a few minutes, trying to figure out her next move, or more likely, if it was safe for her to speak.
She began to jiggle the chains that were secured on her wrists. Celine did it for a moment or two, before the chains fell to the bed, and then she gave me a wide grin.

''I'm just waiting for you to get a little bit better,'' And then, she motioned with her head towards the door, before putting the cuffs back on her wrists in case Milo came back.

As sweet as it was for her to wait for me, a complete stranger, I didn't want that. I was unable to speak, and couldn't tell her that she should seize the opportunity when it presented itself, because this whole thing with Milo made a lot of people suffer.

I didn't know her, heck, until a couple of days ago, I didn't even know she existed, but she didn't deserve this. None of the people that were forcefully dragged into this mess deserved it.

And if it came down between her escaping, or me, I knew in my heart that I'd be staying with Milo. No matter what it took.

•••