The Price of Protection

Chapter 36~ Aren't We Lucky

Céline:

The last 20 hours have been worse than the two days I spent at Jacques before I knew who he was. He wasted no time making sure that Quinn and I were weak and humiliated. Upon our arrival, after being brought straight back to the damp, self-dug holding space, we were given two oversized button-up shirts and told to change into them. At first, we refused, but his guard had been instructed to strike at any backlash and it only took once for the towering guard's hand to connect with our faces to do as he said. My tooth had dug into the side of my cheek and I was spitting out blood for several minutes afterward.

After that, we were told that there would be no food and water until Marius agreed to the terms. When I asked what would happen if he didn't agree to these terms (terms that the guard wouldn't discuss, but I imagine have to do with choosing us or choosing himself)-- he scoffed and sneered at us before leaving and shutting us in the cold darkness. The hard-packed ground felt frigid and quickly made stings of icy flame dance across the bottoms of both feet.

We had nothing but the corners of our cells to use the bathroom in and there wasn't much talking to do. We both assumed that this was the end for us, especially after Quinn told me that Simone was involved. I knew I should've trusted my gut with her but I never did say anything to Marius about what happened when she came to my room. 

 Apparently, Simone had drugged Quinn just before we left for the gala and was late getting to the security vehicle because she had brought Quinn's body to where one of Mesrine's guards could retrieve her. She was left in the back of a dark van until I was grabbed in the parking lot and tossed in with her. A syringe to the neck is not pleasant.

It was at the 16-hour mark that Mesrine showed up, flanked by two guards and grinning like a child who just received the biggest Christmas gift ever. He told us that Marius and Andre were well aware of our situation and the fact that they hadn't reached out by now wasn't a very good sign for us. His eyes had looked us both over very closely with primal intent. The shirts we wore may have been over-sized for us but they were still shirts, after all, and they left most of our legs open to the elements. Legs that were now covered in dirt and grime from the cell.

"What do you think of this?" He had gestured around the dug out room, dirt floor hard packed and metal bars worn from the years and musty air.

"It's lovely...like your personality," Quinn deadpanned. One of the guards hauled her roughly out of her cell and had slapped her hard, knocking her to the solid floor

"Quinn!" There was nothing for me to do from my cell but scream, "It's a prison!" I screamed at him, gripping the cold bars in my equally chilled hands, "What are we supposed to think?!"

His face turned serpentine as he smiled at me and his gaze lowered to Quinn trying to lift herself up off of the floor. "It has been here for many decades. The previous owner of the house was very rich...and very cruel. If you think I am ugly hearted, you should read the history of the man who lived here. His operations may have been small, but they were perfectly executed and this is not the only hidden room on the estate grounds," he looked almost reverent of whomever the previous owner was, "Everything he did went undetected until his death. When they went through his financial accounts and personal files, they revealed all the crime that had happened right under their noses."

"Why should that matter to us?" I sounded snappier then even though there were constant unshed tears lining my eyes and I was utterly terrified. Again, stupid defense mechanism.

"Because, darling," he crooned stepping up to the bars of my cell, "You could be in the clutches of a man much worse than I am. Aren't you lucky?" He whispered tauntingly.