"Get down. NOW." His tone was eerily calm and a shiver stole over me, my body locked in place. I couldn't comply with his demand. For one, I didn't get up here on my own so with my ankle so injured I couldn't just jump down without help. And then two, I was literally frozen in fear. All I could see when I looked at him was his cold, hard, face when he shot one of his own men down. As if the man had been nothing but a stray dog gone rabid. He hadn't even blinked. I felt my stomach churn and I hoped to God I didn't embarrass myself further by puking all over him.
When I didn't immediately make a move to get down, he narrowed his eyes and straightened away from me. "Are you defying me Mysh?" he asked, steel in his voice. I notice Ivan shifting uncomfortably in the entrance to the kitchen and I shot him a desperate look. My mouth opened to say that I truly couldn't get down but all that escaped with a pitiful squeak. I didn't think he could get angrier, but right now, his expression resembled a storm cloud. He reached for me and before I could stop myself I flinched away violently, slapping his hand away in the process. A sudden stillness fell over the kitchen as I realized when I'd done.
"Oh fuck!" Ivan hissed under his breath, before closing the distance that separated us. All I could do was gape helplessly at Gavriil while Ivan tried to subtly slip between us. "Boss...let me handle this, you're so late already and-" he didn't get to finished as Gavriil shot him a look that had the other male pursing his lips and stepping aside. "On second thought, there's a thing about a thing I have to attend to so..." he threw me a sympathetic look over his shoulder and hurried out of the kitchen. Leaving us alone. I was definitely dying tonight. At least I would be going on a stomach full of delicious pastries. At least I had that experience to console me.
"I-I-I I'm sorry!" I squeaked out, watching him stalk towards me. "I didn't mean it! I! You just! And t-then-" before I could get out the pathetic jumble of words, he snatched me off the counter and threw me over his shoulders. On instinct, a scream bubbled up my throat and burst out of my mouth. Loud, long, and unforgiving. I thrashed against his hold not caring that the movements caused intense pain to spread over my bruised ribs or that my shirt was now riding up. "No! Put me down! Put me DOWN! Stop!" I screamed and kicked and cursed him as he carried me effortlessly through the house. Deja vu hit me as he pushed his room door open and marched inside. Before I could blink I was thrown down on the bed. Again.
I didn't get the opportunity to sit up. His hand gripped my cheeks, squeezing them tight enough to cause discomfort, and his other hand pressed into the space beside my head. Holding his kneeling body up above me. "Dostatochno! (That's enough!)" he growled, staring down at me in anger. "Pochemu ty tak menya boish'sya? (Are you so scared of me?)" I didn't understand a thing, but the way he barked out the words made me flinch. My heart pounding erratically against my chest. His hand slowly left my face and trailed down to my neck. His grip was firm, bordering on almost too tight, but I didn't dare move. "...Even now your pulse is like a hummingbird...Ya byl neprav, chtoby tebya ne ubit'...(I was wrong not to kill you...)". His harshly whispered words increased my feeling of helplessness and as much as I tried to stop myself, I felt hot tears prick my eyes before tracking their way down my face. It was too late to hold anything back now and I found myself outright sobbing. Little broken gasps shaking my small frame and my stomach clenched.
I wanted so badly to roll away from him and bury my face into the sheet. But his hold on me didn't allow me that small courtesy to hide my shame. With nowhere else to look, I found my eyes landing on his, his face blurry through my tears. But what I did make out confused me. He wore an expression that I had never seen on him before. Granted, I haven't known him long at all. But I didn't have to, to know that he was a man of very little emotional displays. However, right now, hovering over me as he was, his hand wrapped around my throat and my tears soaking into his sheets, he actually looked... stunned.
I blinked to clear my eyes and the next thing I knew, he was off of me and heading to the door. He stopped in the doorway and without turning around said, "You'll have the room to yourself tonight. Stay in it." And with that, he was gone and I was left alone in the dim light of the empty room.
* * *
Over the next three days, an odd routine began. I didn't venture outside of the room again, afraid that I'd anger him or I'd have another incident. It also didn't help that almost every inch of me seemed to ache. The only small reprieve was when Elena would bring me up something to eat and bring some pain pills along with it. So my time consisted of multiple short naps, even during the night, a meal once a day if I could muster up the appetite which seemed harder each time, and small brief glimpses of him. If he was sleeping, it definitely wasn't here. The only time he came to the room was to shower and change. We didn't speak and he barely looked at me, though I caught myself following him with my eyes a number of times. I felt guilty each and every time. I came to the conclusion that he must be ignoring me. I didn't have any information and thus, I was useless.
I had to admit that it made me mad. More than it should. If anyone should be getting ignored, it should be him. He was the murderer here! But even that was, weirdly enough, bothering me less and less. Being so secluded with absolutely zero sources of entertainment meant I had a lot of time to think. Maybe I was going crazy, I don't know, but the more I thought about what happened with Arseny, the more it became clear that he'd done what he'd done to protect me in his own strange way. Yes, it was highly excessive. Yes, his need to protect me was based on the fact that my memories were valuable and Arseny compromised that, but none the less, I had no doubt that his actions saved me from further violence. Was I still scared of him now that I knew what he was capable of? FUCK yes. But I also didn't feel entirely jumpy around him anymore or so terrified I clammed up.
I was just more aware of my position. I was a hostage whose only value was my memories. It meant I needed to proceed carefully and stay off his bad side as much as possible. But it also meant I had a bit of power myself. I just needed to figure out how to use it. My plan to escape had finally rejuvenated, but I knew I would have to be much, much, more careful. I'd have to earn as much of his trust as I could, and that meant sticking to our deal. If I had a memory, I'd share. How much I shared though, that was up to me.
The next morning, however, threw any cunning plans I had right out the window. I had no sense of time when I roused from my latest nap, but I knew immediately, something was wrong. Sweat soaked every inch of me, sticking the thin shirt to my body. It felt like my insides were boiling, while my skin was clammy and cold. I could barely open my eyes and the cover that lay on top of me felt far too heavy to push off. Panic seized me but when I opened my mouth to call for help, no words came out. I didn't get a chance to do much else as darkness clouded over me and my eyes fluttered shut once more.
* * *
~
"Il mio povero angelo (my poor angel...) what would your mother say if she saw how badly I was taking care of you?" I couldn't see the face of the speaker but I felt warmth and comfort. I was cradled against a strong chest, a hand rubbing my back in soothing circles as I was carried out of a house. I wheezed, my breaths coming out in short shaky puffs.
~
The sound of chatter and a jostling movement jolted me awake. Confusion set in for the first few seconds and then slowly my surrounds started to come to me. It seems I was at some sort of...hospital? And I was being carried. Strong arms supported my back and legs, cradling me against a warm chest. My body felt limp so any chance of moving was out the window. I tried to speak but only a small croak emerged. Lost in the flurry of voices and people around me. I began shivering, small tremors at first, and then full on quakes. I whimpered and dug my head deeper into the chest that supported it. I could tell I was on the verge of passing out again and the prospect of that scared me. I felt myself slipping away to the voice of the person holding me, "Shh, Mysh...it's okay, Cecilia..."
I woke up to the sound of mechanical whirring and rhythmic beeping. It took me a while and a little effort to open my eyes, but when I did, I immediately noticed the man standing by my bed, clipboard in hand. "W-Where am I?...Who are you?... What's going on?" I croaked, my gaze becoming more frantic as I looked around and found nothing familiar. I began breathing hard and tugging at the IV drips in my hands. "Whoa! Whoa! It's okay, It's okay." the man reached for me, gently grasping my wrist to stop all the tugging I was doing. I freaked out at his touch and whimpered as I tried tugging free. "Hey, hey! Shh...it's okay sweetheart, I'm not going to hurt you. I promise. Relax for me...good. Now, can you take a couple breaths with me?"
Something about him was calming and I found myself following his directions. In a matter of minutes, my breathing was under control again and I tentatively eased back against the bed as he perched on the edge. "My name is Dr.Nicolas Kein, and you're currently in a hospital. You may not remember much right now, but that's okay. You just need to give your mind a few minutes to adjust." he explained softly. I nodded and looked around me. I really was in a hospital. A few fuzzy pictures flashed through my mind, but I couldn't make sense of any of them. My brows scrunched together as I tried to hold onto them, but it was no use as they slipped away like sand through fingers. Vanishing almost immediately. I let out a frustrated huff of air and Dr.Kein patted my hand, his expression sympathetic.
"Don't push yourself. Your body's been through a lot. Try to rest a little more, okay?" he assured me, his smile gentle. I didn't argue. Just simply nodded, my eyes already closing and my mind drifting off.
* * *
He was right. The next time I woke up, there was no confusion at all. Just mild gaps in my recent memories. I remembered feeling like crap back at Gavriil's and then passing out. I remember jolting awake to someone holding me and then the lights going out again. But I had no idea what happened between those two moments. How I was found, and how I got to the hospital or even where it was. Dr.Kein walked back into the room and this time, I remembered exactly who he was. "...Hi" I murmured, my voice raspy. He looked briefly surprised and then gave me a bright smile. "Ah, I take it you remember me now?" I felt my cheeks warm a bit and I offered back a small smile. "Well, that's good!" he informed me. "In patients with head trauma, we want to see an increase in memory retention, not a decreased. It shows signs of improvement. He walked around the bed, looking at the machines that monitored me and jotting down notes.
"What happened to me? Why am I here?" I rasped out, then erupted into a series of coughs. He grabbed a water bottle off of a nearby counter and cracked it open. "Here, talking on a dry throat can be dangerous." He slipped an arm under my neck and lightly lifted my head, bringing the water to my parched lips. I took a small sip and then another. I felt so good that I got greedy, straining for a bigger gulp, but he pulled the bottle away. I shot him a glare and he laughed as he slowly lowered my head again. "Sorry sweetheart, but you need to pace yourself." He rubbed the back of his knuckle against the side of my mouth, catching the drops of water there.
"Now. To answer your questions," his expression grew serious. "I'll put it as simply as I can. Your body has been through a lot these past two weeks. It's in a constant state of healing, but continuous trauma and stress slows the process and causes other complications. You had an incredibly high fever, an attempt from your body to heal itself. But of course, because of your array of injuries, it backfired to an extent, causing additional stress that triggered a mild shock to your system." He paused, giving me time to digest as much of that information as I could and then waited for my soft nod before he continued on. "The good news is, you got here just in time and your body is well on it's way to recovery. But, you'll have to stay here for a few more days-"
"A few more days? Wait, how long have I been here already?" I asked, cutting him off.
He reached out and patted my hand. "Just two days. The first day was gruelling, trying to get your system back on track. But once you were out of the woods, mild anesthetics were administered to allow you to rest and prevent any involuntary injury-"
"So you drugged me?" I accused, frowning up at him.
He claimed the edge of the bed and gently held my hand. My small hands were practically lost in his large ones and it would have been comical if I wasn't so peeved. "I am your doctor. It's my job to care for you and to make sure you make it out of here strong and healthy. I won't ask you for your trust right now, I know that your...unique situation makes that a hard thing to give," I nearly scoffed at the word unique, as if that one word could truly sum up what it was to be kidnapped, held against your will and treated like nothing but a means to an end. But as his gaze searched mine, I could see understanding and genuineness. He meant what he said. For whatever reason, he had my best interest at heart. "But, I hope you can eventually trust me."
I looked up at this honest man, offering an olive branch, and a hopeful thought occurred. Maybe, just maybe, he could be my ticket to freedom.
- - - - - -
A/N:
Hi, my lovelies! This chapter was a bit longer than usual but I hope it was worth it! Alsoooo~ We have her first memory! But I don't think she's gonna remember it lol XD
Like always, if you feel like it, please vote and comment! <3 It really goes a long way in helping me out. :3
xoxoxo
Naughty