I FORCED MY EYES OPENED, expecting the aches that surged through my brain but not the harsh sun rays which blinded me immediately. I didn't need to force them shut as they did on their own accord. I had to blink severally before my eyes could finally adapt to the brightness coming in from...from?
Shit! I had no idea where I was or where this goddanm rays could be coming from.
After a couple of futile attempt in figuring out my surroundings, I finally decided to go for the much more easier way. I opened my mouth to yell but what came out was a crooked kind of sound and at that moment I realized my throat was on fire.
Jesus, what the hell could be happening? I mentally groaned. Why am I waking up to a strange well furnished and beautiful room? And why the fuck am I handcuffed to a bed? well, it wasn't just any bed as it was by far the biggest bed I have ever been on in my entire life. Still it didn't make sense to me. Nothing was making sense. Not even the pain I had been expecting when I woke up.
Not liking the thought of being in some kind of deep shit and the helpless feeling that coursed through me, I managed to push myself into a much better position without hurting my cuffed right wrist in the process. A stream of curses flew out my lips as a wave of pain descended upon every part of my- now I notice- bruised body. A lazy smile turned up on my face when I noticed the burning sensation in my throat hadn't stopped me from swearing. Not that it matters anymore as I don't see yelling as a wise decision right now.
With my left hand, I pulled a hairpin out of my hair and had to bit hard on my bottom lip to stop myself from screaming. My fifty dollars hairpin was broken. I could feel my jaw tighten in a fit of rage, yet I couldn't decide if the rage was from the fact that the broken hairpin was sabotaging my escape plan or that I just saw fifty dollars go up in smokes. I have never really been the type to waste money, though all my life I have been surrounded by lots of it.
Sighing, I tossed the hairpin around my palm, trying to find a way use it. It was a black piece of jewelry with little silver patches. The most awesome thing about the hairpin aside the fact that its color is same with my hair was that, it was shaped like a bow and arrow, making it a very essential tool in my life for past... hmm... I have no idea. But it is sure more essential than the person who had gifted me the hairpin.
Well, my relationship with my father was a very complicated one. There were times I'd actually thought he didn't love me or wanted me in his life. But at the same time I felt no matter how much we disagreed over everything, a secret part of him had always been proud of me. And that thought had built me and shaped me into the woman I am today.
Shaking the thought of my father off, I brought the broken hairpin up to my mouth and used my teeth to make some amendment to it. Satisfied with my work, I started picking the lock of the cuff while whispering a thank you to my father for giving me the hairpin on one of my birthdays. I still didn't know which of my birthdays though.
It felt like eternity later before I heard the joyful click of the cuff. Alas, I could finally move my right hand without feeling wounded. I examined my now uncuffed wrist within a minute, making sure no bone had gotten broken. It seemed to be in a perfect condition aside the very visible bruise caused by the handcuff and occasional sting I felt anytime I touched the wrist.
"How did you get yourself in such a mess like this?" I verbally queried myself, while attempting to climb down from the king size bed. I had no friends and I'd like to believe I had no enemies as well. So why in God's name have I been... OMG! I think I have been kidnapped.
I felt a sick feeling settle at the pit of my stomach at the idea of being kidnapped. Why the hell would anyone want to kidnap me? True, I came from a very wealthy and influential family but still why choose now to do so? I mean I'm kinda in my mid twenties so if anyone wanted to kidnap me for money why do it now and not when I was younger?
Frustration started to creep in along side the amount of unanswered questions that clouded my mind and for the first time in a truly long time, I felt like crying. But then I heard a sharp voice pierce through my scrambled thought.
Don't you dare cry. Not now, not ever. Tears are for the weak and you don't want your daddy thinking you are weak, right?
I bit hard on my bottom lip drawing blood in the process while shaking off the voice of my father tormenting his little daughter. He hadn't wanted a lonely, scared child to cry for getting lost at one of his elegant cocktail parties, he definitely wouldn't want her to do it years later, even though she'd been kidnapped and tortured.
I peered down at the bruises all over my exposed skin with a sneer plastered on my face. Not that I remembered getting the bruises but they sure looked like the product of a severe beating. Like I'd somehow managed to get myself tangled with a bull. I pressed my eyes shut momentarily, asking myself the one question that mattered the most now.
Why can't I remember any of this?
With my both feet now on the cool wooden floor of the strange bedroom, I stretched myself to my full height, wincing as pain shot through my body as if a thousand needles had been stucked all over me. In that moment, I noticed for the very first time that I had an hospital gown on. I looked around me becoming even more confused. With so many bruises and pain, it'd make sense that I should be in an hospital but this place looked nothing like an hospital. No hospital stench, no customary white, and definitely no hospital facilities and equipment. This room reminded me of a five star hotel room. A honeymoon suite to be precise if I should consider the large canopied bed. And that I did. Plus the fact that I woke up handcuffed to the bed post disqualified any possibility of this place being some kind of a private clinic.
Sighing out of frustration and anger, I yanked the white, light material over my head, cursing everything in sight as the pains all over me became even more intensed. But then, once the gown had hit the floor, I couldn't really feel the pain anymore as sudden realization dawned on me. I was completely naked beneath the gown. Someone had worn me the gown which means someone had had to strip me naked in my unconcious state.
Fuck!
The thought of being kidnapped and beaten by a money greedy psychopath was bizarre enough for me to handle. I didn't want to think of the other things that could have been done to me. If my kidnapper was a man who'd most definitely have to be the one to change my clothing, then I was truly fucked. And I literally meant fucked.
Yes, I was in my mid twenties but somehow still got the slim body statue of most eighteen years old. With the combination of yellowish amber eyes- protected by long thick lashes, a nose often referred to as the Greek nose and a pale pink lip resembling those often found on Disney characters, well...you could sure call me pretty. Though my mom always said Gorgeous was the right word for me and deep down inside me I knew she wasn't far off from the truth since the only problem I have had with myself was my hair. I really didn't have the sexiest hair most girls pride themselves about. Mine was midnight black with silver highlights, not a bad color when compared to my mom's orange like hair. But beyond the color was the real deal, the texture. I had a coarse hair texture that has always made my head feel like a bird nest was resting on top of it. At a very early age, my mom had provided me my own personal saloon somewhere in my room. And with two hours every morning allocated to my hair, it appears to be pretty cool to others.
I ran my hand through my now bird nest of a hair, hoping who ever had changed my clothing had had the decency to do it with eyes closed. I haven't been with a man before and for some reason I never wanted to be with one. Don't get me wrong cause I'm not gay as I don't even have female friends too. It's just that all my life I have only been able to love one person and that's my mom. I wasn't even sure I loved myself as I was always hurting myself just so I can make my father proud of me. Yeah, I know, my life is one big roller coaster but it's my life and I didn't ask for it.
Trotting over to the full length mirror at the other side of the room, I started to examine every inch of my body. The bruises on my face wasn't half as bad as the ones on my arms and legs. My stomach was a little bit bruised but so far the only part of my body I could bare to look at. I turned slightly trying to get a look at my back and that was when I spotted it. There was a mini size security camera hoisted on the far end of the room wall. You'd think it was some kind of fancy light if you didn't know better. But I did. I knew better.
Oh my gawd. I instantly place a protective palm over my boobs, praying to whoever cared to listen, that no one was seeing this right now. My gaze quickly scanned the room for more spying cameras but found none. I started to canter about looking for something to put on that looked nothing like a clinic gown when I heard the sound of locks being opened from the otherside of the wide double door in the room.
Fuck! No!
In the space of a heartbeat, I flung myself over to the canopied bed and with every strength left in me, pulled over the heavy sheets and threw them carelessly over my head and body. In my fit to get the sheets properly around me, I somewhat managed to get myself tangled in both sheets. I heard the door push open and gave a small cry of defeat.
Poking my head out of the tangled sheets, I was stunned to see the backside of a young man whispering furiously to someone I couldn't see as the young man was obstructing my view. What had actually made me stunned wasn't the man, but the way he was dressed. From his clothes, I could tell he wasn't a money greedy kidnapper like I had thought before and now thinking of it, a money greedy kidnapper wouldn't have access to such a paradise. He would have had me stucked in some kind of warehouse or so. I cursed myself for not putting one and one together all along. I finally knew what was going on here.
I held my breath as the man in the suit turned slowly towards me.
__________________________________________
Nothing like I expected for sure but that didn't stop my heart from doing a double flip as my eyes locked on the face of the most handsome man I have ever seen. And trust me I have seen a lot of men. From my father's business associates to lowlife criminals, name it all. I stared hard at the emotionless grey eyes studying me like some kind of weird specie that has never been discovered before now. I watched his eyes travel from my bruised shamed face to my- still tangled between the sheets- body, reminding me how naked and vulnerable I really was under those sheets. I groaned a curse when I felt a burning sensation creeping into my cheeks.
He strolled towards me, never taking his eyes off my face. Probably he'd been expecting me to back down from our starring contest but should have known better cause I was never one to look away from someone eyes. No matter how intimidating they may seem to be. But something about this man wasn't just intimidating. He sure as hell looked scary and that got me puzzled because he'd the face of an angel.
Lucifer was also an angel, my inner thought screamed at me.
"Need help?" he offered, squatting so our eyes could be on the same level. He sure would be doing that a lot if he intended to keep me here till the election was over, since he was nearly a feet taller than I am. "You look like you could use a savior."
I shook my head not trusting myself to speak. Not even a simple no. Communication hasn't always been my greatest skill. Aside the usual daily chats with my mom, the only real conversations I have had with people boils down to me threatening them and they in return, threatening to kill me the moment they had the chance. But seeing as I'm still alive, that could only mean I usually do have the last laugh. Now all that seemed to be threatened by the way my companion's face became harder and even more scarier at my rejection. I didn't need anyone to tell me I wasn't in a position to make my usual threats or to even disagree with the man still squatting before me.
And like a robot, I found myself nodding my head.
He stretched forth a hand which I slowly took, cursing the fact that my hand had chosen that perfect moment to start trembling. With my right hand, I gabbled the sheets tightly around myself not liking how penetrating his gaze felt all over my body. It was bad enough that he might have already seen me through the security camera running around the room naked. Of course he had. Isn't that why he came here?
"You scared?" he asked the moment my palm landed on his, making me quiver like a cold little mouse.
I sure as hell was. But he doesn't need to know that, I told myself. So once again I found myself shaking my head instead of simply saying no.
A lazy smile turned up on his face. Oh boy, he really was a Sunday made. "I would pay whatever price it takes to hear you talk." he stated while playing with my palm which was still trembling on top of his.
This was my chance to make a deal and I knew it. I could tell that he was a principled man from the way he talks down to the way he moves. He was a man who'd keep to his word and all he wanted right now was to hear me talk. I prayed silently that my voice wouldn't betray me like my body had. Inhaling sharply, I asked, "Does that include letting me go?"
His smile widened, revealing a set of white, healthy teeth. "Ah Mari Luz, you of all people should know that something that big doesn't come that easy."
Yes. He definitely was working for the government or one of those politicians who always played dirty. I sighed knowing I wouldn't be leaving here anytime soon, especially as the election was still a month away from now. "So you're just going to keep me here till the election is over?" I asked not liking my odds of leaving here one bit. "My dad is as stubborn as a mule and honestly, you chose the wrong person because that man doesn't give a shit about me. He would never back down from the election. Even if you chop off all my fingers and send them to him as a Christmas present."
At first his face took on a look of confusion which later dissolved into understanding that erupted into laughter. He finally dropped my hand which I was starting to think was his new toy. I really couldn't understand why he was laughing. I just told him how miserably his plan would fail because Axel Maximilien Sanchez would never bulge. He would become even more irritated and stand firmly with whatever he has in mind if he knew he was being blackmailed or threatened, and all this sociopath could do is laugh.
"Why the hell are you laughing?" I asked trying my best not to yell at him since I still didn't know what he was capable of. "Did I in anyway crack jokes with you?"
He straightened his face though traces of his amusement still lingered across his face. "Well Mari Luz, I find it kind of funny that you think I'm someone who'd be interested in the dirty games associated with politics," he said stiffly. "I'm not denying my involvement with the politics of course, but the elections aren't my concern."
Now it was my turn to stare at him like he was a creature from another planet. Maybe he was just kidding. He fucking had to be. I took a sharp breath as I continued to watch him, now realizing how damn serious he was. I haven't been abducted because my father was a candidate running for the position of the prime minister of the country. And with that out of the way, I really saw no reason why I wasn't at home telling my mom how I'd figured out who was behind every crime that was brought to my desk for the day. And I hated the fact that I still couldn't remember getting here in the first place.
"Then why the fuck do you have me?" I snapped.
He took his time to study me. So much time that I started to regret snapping at him thinking he was probably considering ways to hurt me. "You really don't know why you are here?" he asked making me feel like an idiot for not knowing. Jesus, if only I could remember anything other than being home with my mom, then suddenly waking up here.
I shook my head silently, thinking of why anyone would want me kidnapped but came up with nothing. Even though my memories were a bit hazy, I still saw no reason why I was here instead of home. Suddenly more worried about my mom than I was for myself, my head bolted up and I felt a painful sting around my eyes. If my last memories before waking up here was of me and my mom chatting away in the patio, then something must have happened to her. She would not let anyone take me away without putting up a fight. What.. what if she were already dead? I lifted my eyes to that of the man hating myself for showing off my weakness like this.
"Where's my mom?" I whispered the question.
"I don't know," was all he said. But he reached up to cup my face in his hands, using his index finger to wipe out the tiny trail of tears flowing from my eyes. "She's probably at home listening to the news to see if anything about you has been said."
"Y...you didn't take her?" I stammered.
His brows came together. "Why would I?" he questioned me as he withdrew his hands from my face.
"So why did you take me?"
"Because you and I have scores to settle," he said making my hair stand in fear. The sick smile on his face wasn't really helping my nerves relax. "You've got something that belongs to me and I want it back."
I stared at him blankly. Was he insane? I didn't know this man. I have never ever seen him before in my entire life yet he abducted me because he thinks I have something that belongs to him. How come mentally deranged people were allowed to move around in suits when they should be the ones locked up and handcuffed to a bed. I felt the anger rising inside of me and I didn't know how to suppress it. Anytime I'd get angry or mad, I usually cut myself, believing I'm supposed to bleed the anger out. Call me crazy or whatever you want, but it does actually work for me.
I didn't need a mirror to know that my eyes has lost its yellowish shade, taking the color of cognac. Yeah, I was that angry and my emotions were something I've never really been able to handle properly. Remember earlier when I said something about cutting myself? Well one of the reasons I also do so is because anytime I get angry, I feel the urge to hurt someone. Anyone at all. And that included me. But right now, I only felt like hurting the man before me.
"Are you nuts?" I shrieked. "You kidnapped me because you think I have something that is yours? Is that even a thing? Fuck, I don't even know you."
"Oh but I do know you. I know you very well Marianne Luiza Sanchez. And I'd like to believe that you know me, or at least you have heard tales about me." The sick smile was no longer there. And in it's place was a very inhumane look that froze me in my place.
I could barely recognize my own voice as I asked the question that had been on my mind from the moment he'd entered the room. "Who are you?"
And with so much calm that it scared me, he replied, "Lucifer."