“Still think you’re hot shit, freak?” he said while looking directly into my eyes.
I had to admit I could barely see him past the flashes of light and darkness in my vision from the barrage of trauma to my skull.
I raised my hand to the back of my head and felt the wet warmth, a stinging sensation exploding once fingers touched meat. I was going to need stitches. My body reacted at the sight of blood and my fist hit directly into the line of his strong jaw. He barely reacted to the blow. It was almost like I hadn’t hit him at all. I would’ve thought I hadn’t if his head hadn’t jerked to the side, a small trickle of blood making its way out of the corner of his mouth. He turned back to me, and the look on his face made me want to run. The sly smile and the fury in his eyes had turned him into the monster he had made me out to be.
I watched in sheer horror as his eyes scanned over not just my frightened expression, but the entirety of my body like I was a meal. I knew what Jones had planned, and it wouldn’t be about sex. It would be about power and showing me that no matter how powerful I was that he was dominant to me. My whole body tensed when I came to the realization, and he took in my countenance and smirked once he knew I saw what was coming next. My whole body began to recoil without my permission and as I fought as hard as I could to get out from underneath him. He was much stronger than me, my body barely moving an inch despite my attempt.
I began to panic as I hit him and he didn’t react to the blows. After the last time, I had to use my gift I didn’t want to use it ever again, but it was looking like I might have to. I shuddered at the thought of it and continued to try to fight him as he took both of my wrists in one hand and forced them over my head against the cold floor. I couldn’t move, and my back arched at a sharp angle, but I couldn’t take my eyes off his twisted face. My feet were sliding on the floor as I continued to make an effort to struggle beneath him. The reaction was something he seemed to thrive on. He moved the bend of his elbow up to his mouth and used his teeth to remove the IV needle and tube in his arm, spitting it out onto the floor beside us. Warm drops of his blood struck the exposed skin of my neck as the tube struck the floor. When he turned back to me, his eyes were even more menacing.
I decided to let the screams building up inside of me filter into the surrounding air. I could tell by the jerk in his arms that he hadn’t been expecting it, but then his free hand moved to the hem of my scrub pants. I knew it wasn’t going to deter him from his current course of action.
“Please, Jones, you don’t have to do this,” I pleaded as I closed my eyes.
His fingers were tracing along my waistband, and I felt a few tears escape, rolling down my temples and into my hair. I was begging, but I didn’t care as long as it helped me. I knew there was no stopping him with words and tears when I felt his fingers work under the waistband and begin to pull down. He leaned down to me and put his mouth next to my ear, licking my lobe. My whole body tensed and I shrieked, turning my head away from his mouth as best as I could.
“Someone has to teach you a lesson about authority, don’t they? Or else you’ll never learn.”
His tongue traced the side of my neck, and the sobs caused my body to shake violently under his touch. They flowed loudly out of me in waves, nausea causing a pit to form in my stomach. My stomach turned, and I had to swallow to force more vomit down. I squeezed my eyes shut until I couldn’t even see a sliver of light through my lids, continuing to move my head away from his grazing lips and his hand continued to go to unwanted places. Then I heard the click of a gun.
“Get off her, Jones.” The voice coming from behind him was rough, deep, and instantly recognizable. It was Ryder.
I began to weep even louder and Jones looked at me, his eyes filled with fire. His hand on my wrists gripped even harder, causing me to cry out in pain as my bones ground together under the skin.
“Jones,” Ryder yelled.
Jones didn’t move. He froze in place above me.
“Now!”
Jones released my wrists and used both arms to push himself off me, both legs still placed on the outsides of my own. My whole body was shaking with adrenaline and fear as he stood, and as soon as he was on his feet I backed away as quickly as I could, cowering against the wall. Jones raised his hands into the air, knowing the military protocol of how to deal with a violent offender. Not only had he attacked me, but he had been about to sexually violate me. I was even less forgiving about that. From the look in Ryder’s stunning eyes, he felt the same way. That was a relief, even though he was a coward.
“Mila, are you okay?” He finally addressed me after what felt like hours.
I nodded in response. I could see Ryder was standing with his gun poised, feet firmly planted, and eyes focused on Jones intently. His eyes shifted to me for only one-second intervals, and I knew he had seen my response, but I answered again.
“I’m all right,” I said loud enough for him to hear me. I wasn’t all right, but he didn’t have to know that yet. I was shaken, terrified, and injured. I also knew this attack would warrant another stay in the hospital wing. That wasn’t ideal. There was no way to communicate with anyone unless it was the doctor or your specially appointed guards. They weren’t welcome company at that point in my stay at the compound.
“Can you walk?”
“Maybe,” I answered. “I can try.” The world was still going black around the edges, but I could at least make an effort. Using the wall as leverage, I rose slowly to my feet and swayed as my vision turned black for a moment. Nausea wracked my body. I was sure I had a concussion, and from the look on Ryder’s face, he had noticed it as well.
“All right, now I want you to come to me.” He took one hand off his gun and held it out to me, even though I was feet from being able to take it.
I realized with a fuzzy mind that I had to get past Jones first. While I didn’t trust Ryder, he was more trustworthy than Jones. I shot a look to Ryder that showed concern and irritation at the request, but he didn’t look at me. He kept his eyes perfectly trained on Jones. Using the wall for guidance, I moved my feet and walked as slowly as I could toward Ryder’s outstretched hand. The room was gyrating, and I had to shake my head occasionally to stop it. Then the queasiness would flare back up. I concentrated on his hand as if it was a lifeline, using it as a focal point to avoid falling.
I was next to Jones, and my legs began to shake again. The fear that crept over me was indescribable. I wanted as far away from him as I could get. My whole body tensed, but his arms never moved from the position above his head. The look of surrender still didn’t ease my anxiety. I could still see the predator underneath and ready to pounce.
I watched him carefully and swayed just the tiniest amount as I did, but I couldn’t take my eyes off him as I worked to pass his still form. He didn’t move an inch. I was barely preceding him when I looked to Ryder, whose eyes were on me as well, and that was when it happened.
Within that second Jones had reached out and pulled me to him, one arm around my waist and the other hand around my throat, pressing hard. I gasped as I felt like the world was about to fall out from under me. Terror was creeping back, and hot tears stung my eyes, threatening to tumble over my eyelids.
Ryder’s gun rose in his hands again, and he trained it on Jones’ head, but the only object that held my attention was the barrel of the gun. I could see Ryder past it and tried so much harder to focus on his face and not the gun pointed in my direction.
“Jones, you know how this is going to end. You know how we operate. There is no way out of this.” He paused, waiting for Jones to respond to him, and when he didn’t say a word, he said, “Just let her go.”
I knew Jones had no such plans, but I was too scared to say a word. A part of me was even too afraid to breathe.
“Oh, come on, Ryder. You know you want a piece of this hot little freak. Hell, I’ll even let you get in on this first. I’m okay with sloppy seconds.” The malicious smile in his voice was unmistakable and
he breathed heavily directly into my ear and down my neck. My whole body was on fire from the tension, my vision snapping back into stillness from the fear and adrenaline. The heat had even crept into my cheeks in a blush as the insinuation of what he was saying hit home, causing my heart to race and my blood to flow just a little bit faster.
His hand moved down my waist, stroking the small part of skin on my hip that he had exposed during our struggle. Air hissed between my teeth at the sudden touch of surprise and terror, my hands gripping the hand on my throat even harder, trying to pull it away. He used his hand on my throat to jerk my head to the side and nuzzled his nose into the arch of my neck, sending a whimper of disapproval from my throat. I squeezed my eyes shut once again and hoped and prayed that Ryder would shoot him and end it. My power lied dormant within but that could change at any moment, and I genuinely didn’t want to use it ever again. Not ever again. No matter what happened.
“Take your hands off her Jones and let her go or I’ll be forced to…” He didn’t even get to finish his sentence before Jones interrupted.
“You’ll be forced to what? Shoot me? You don’t have what it takes.” I felt his lips move against my skin as he spoke, and then his stubble as he looked at Ryder. It was rough and scratchy. I imagined blood pouring down the side of my neck as it cut into me like tiny knives. My head was beginning to pound as I stood there frozen like a statue, but my legs were limp noodles. I would have fallen if it weren’t for Jones. His tongue ran over my skin, and my eyes shot open, focusing directly on Ryder’s pale face as I watched the blood drain from it.
“Ryder, shoot him,” I pled through gritted teeth. I wanted the man gone. I wanted him to stop touching me in ways only a lover should more than anything. Ryder hesitated for an instant and then something unthinkable happened. Jones bit my neck hard, a scream penetrating the air. Then a loud explosion sounded.
Jones’ head snapped back, and his hands loosened from around me, falling to the ground with a loud thud. I turned to see blood pooling underneath his head, turning into a lake of red on the white floor. My hand reflexively went to my neck. There was no sting of an open wound, just the soreness of a contusion forming underneath the surface. I pulled my hand away to find no blood was there. Ryder moved toward us and stood next to me, still not taking his eyes off Jones’ lifeless body on the ground. He came to stand next to him, bent down, and felt at the base of his jaw for a pulse. I could’ve told him Jones was dead, but he felt he needed to be sure and I wouldn’t tell him not to. After all, I could’ve sworn I had killed him before. Why not be one hundred percent sure?
He then stood and took in my appearance. The waistband of my pants was farther down on my hips than I would have liked and the blood matting in my hair was running down the back of my neck. It smeared on the white floor. My heart was still pounding, and I felt flushed, but most of all, I felt drowsy and my head ached. The world became slightly unfocused again as the adrenaline began to leave my system.
“Mila,” he said taking a step toward me, “what’s wrong?”
“Don’t worry about me. I’ll be just fine.” I leaned over and placed my hands on my thighs and the world swam, triggering pressure to course up my throat once more until vomit finally came spewing from my mouth. Over the sound of my retching, I could hear voices and thudding boots coming in our direction. That was it. I was going to pass out. My vision began to swim once again, and then the world went black.
I could still hear, and I was aware of everything around me, the pain of colliding with the floor unforgiving. Sweat was pouring down my skin, stinging the open expanse of flesh on the back of my head. There were only male voices around me. Ryder’s was the only one I could pick out of the throng of them, and then another voice sang through the hall. Doctor Aserov’s voice lilted through the expansive space. Then everything went silent.
Chapter 23
The only sound in the room was the beeping of the EKG on the computer to my right, and the scratching of a pen on a clipboard. I didn’t want to open my eyes because I knew I was in yet another hospital room laying in yet another hospital bed, hooked up to yet another machine. I squeezed my eyes shut knowing the pain that was starting in my head would be back with a vengeance if I had opened them. The throbbing at the back of my head was pure agony. It stung, and the stitches were pushing into my flesh because of the pillow. My throat was raw and small plastic tubes were forcing oxygen into my nose, causing the raw and dry feeling in my sinuses. The tube joined right underneath my chin and ran to bend over my ears in a nice loop.
I wasn’t sure who was at my bedside, but I was pretty certain it was Doctor Aserov. She had been handling my care and everything else since I had gotten to the compound so why not? After all, one of their soldiers had gotten out of hand more than once before his untimely demise. The tape holding the IV needle into my skin was pulling at the fine hairs, making the needle immobile and uncomfortable. I let my eyes drift open and began to flex and move my hand, trying to get the tape to give even just a little bit so the sensation would subside.
My assumption had been right. I opened my eyes to Doctor Aserov’s brown eyes hidden behind clear lenses, the reflection from the computer screen turning the brown into a murky hue. Her eyebrows furrowed, and she scribbled on a clipboard with a silver pen in a gloved hand. She stopped writing once she realized I was awake, and her chocolate eyes met mine through the glare from the screen in her glasses, concern filling them. My body ached, and my head throbbed.
“You’re awake. How are you feeling?” I tried to sit up, a hand dropping onto my shoulder, letting me know without so many words that it wasn’t a good idea.
“I feel like I’ve been run over by a truck. A rather large one at that.” The words weren’t a lie. My head felt like it was caved in the back, but I knew that wasn’t the case. I reached my hand back and felt the stitches just to be sure.
“Well, you did take quite a beating.” The look on her face softened with pity. I needed understanding, not disappointment. I turned away from her and laid there staring at the wall across from my bed. At that point, all hospital rooms were beginning to look the same with the same white walls and blue lights and computer screens. Even occupied by the same people.
“Jones did have an ax to grind. Not everyone reacts nicely to being humiliated.” I was actively avoiding her gaze until she walked to the bottom of my bed and placed her hands on the railing at the lower part of it, leaning forward just a little. “You did almost kill him.”
“Yes, trying to protect myself.” I wanted to make it clear that Jones had begun the assault first. I might have been attempting to escape the compound, but there are always better ways to do things. He apparently didn’t take the high road. Doctor Aserov was silent as if she had no idea what to say. I decided at that moment that it was time to be cruel. “It’s not like you really care, anyways.”
Her eyes fell, and she asked, “What makes you say that?” She didn’t want the answer. It would be painful, but certain things had to be said, and I wasn’t about to miss an opportunity. My head was still pounding as I took a profound and steadying breath to ready myself to inflict some emotional damage. Hell, I had already killed someone. Why not hurt someone’s feelings?
“Well,” I said as I crossed my arms across my chest, “you stood back and watched one innocent person kill another. Now we both have blood on our hands.”
Without saying a word, she removed a tool from the wall beside my bed and walked toward me, an audible clicking sound was loud as she tested the light with her gloved hand. Her heeled shoes clicked on the floor as she moved, and her white coat flowed behind like a cape. She looked ominous as I watched her. Bending forward she clicked the light on again and put it up to my eyes, her mouth set in the straight line of concentration. She was trying to ignore my words. It was as if she pretended not to hear them, they had not been uttered. The light flashed brightly in my eyes, and I fought the urge to wince and look away. She clicked it off and took
a few steps back, turning to put the light back in its place.
“Those stitches are the kind that dissolves with healing. Everything else looks great, but I want to keep you overnight just to be on the safe side.”
I sighed and raised my head to look at her. “Is that really necessary?” I didn’t want to stay overnight in that place. It would only be the third time since I got to the compound, but even once was too many times. She turned to me; her warm brown eyes had somehow become cold. Her lips were still set in a hard line and became a red slash across her face. The bright red would’ve reminded me of Cato’s blood all over my skin if it had been darker. I shook the thought away.
“Yes, Mila, it is necessary.” She picked up the clipboard once more and made a few notes. She then placed it on a particular location on the bottom rail of the bed where it could hang, turned swiftly on her heels, and walked stiffly from the room. The glass doors slid closed behind her with a slight hush, and I could see Ryder just beyond them, his head turning to look back at me. I didn’t look away from him, but he quickly turned away. He adjusted his stance, spreading his feet a few more inches apart. He knew I still didn’t trust him because of his cowardice.
I had emotionally wounded the good doctor, and I was perfectly fine with that. No one had done anything to me there but hurt me, and I was more than willing to inflict a little pain myself. Doctor Aserov and Ryder had both been kind until the moment they sat on their haunches and watched as I killed Cato. That was unforgivable.
It didn’t take long before I became extremely uninterested in everything, trying not to fidget as thoughts of black blood spreading over a white floor flooded my brain matter. It began with picking my fingernails and when that got to be too much I leaned my head back and turned enough to avoid putting pressure on the stitches. I didn’t know what time it was because there were no windows or clocks, but the constant tedium was tiring. There was nothing to do in a hospital room but sleep and think, and I had a feeling if I started walking after a head injury Doctor Aserov would have a fit. I honestly didn’t want her back in the room with me and watching my every move. Behind my eyelids, there was only darkness as I slept, except red splashes of violence and rage slashing across the black nothingness. In hospitals, it was always hard to sleep well between periodic checks and the loud beeping of machines.
The Harvested (The Permutation Archives Book 1) Page 16
