Page 25 of Blossoming Dahlia

I shifted and noticed my arms weren’t moving. I jerked my hands and felt them catch, recognizing the feel of handcuffs on my wrists. Probably my own handcuffs, I realized with a burst of rage. I jerked my legs, but they were pinned as well, duct-taped to the legs of the chair I was strapped into.That fucker.I tested them carefully, but they wouldn’t budge, he probably used half a roll to tie me down, and the chair was metal, so I wouldn’t be able to snap the legs off either. I looked around the room I was in, which was eerily similar to the room we’d found Dahlia in before. It was clearly a basement, judging by the windows sethigher up, close to the ceiling. I turned to see what was behind me, and I could feel my skin pulling from the dried blood coating my face. My jeans were torn in a few places from where the car had hit me, and I just hoped nothing was too severely broken.

A door opened behind me, and I tensed as footsteps approached. I glared at Curing as he strolled past me, looking completely at ease, which juxtaposed eerily with the unconscious body draped in his arms. At least, I prayed that Dahlia was only unconscious. Her skin was ashy and her lips blue, probably from the cold since she was only in her underwear. Her hair was damp, like she’d just had a shower. Had that fucker actually washed her hair?! He set her down on the bed on the far wall, adjusting her body with a bizarre fondness that made my stomach lurch. Once she was settled to his liking, he pulled a contraption out of his back pocket and fastened it around her neck. It looked too similar to the shock collar he’d fashioned for her before; he must’ve gotten the supplies to make a new one. Once the collar was in place, he set about attaching a chain to it, the other end fastened to a clip on the ceiling. I watched him silently, my hands working on the cuffs behind my back as I sized him up.

“There, that should do it,” he mused, looking at the set-up with the satisfaction of someone just finishing a home improvement project. He finally caught my eye, and his face fell flat, a scowl forming on his lips. “You nearly ruined everything,” he muttered, looking me up and down with disgust. “Keep your mouth shut, or I might be forced to hurt my little doll here.” He gestured to Dahlia, and I bit my tongue to keep from shouting at him. His eyes bore into me for a moment, but when I didn’t make a sound he seemed happy enough. Clapping his hand on my shoulder as he walked past, I heard the door shut behind me, followed by the sound of a lock sliding into place. I scanned the room as surreptitiously as possible, remembering what we’dfound in his last hideout. Sure enough, I spotted a camera near the ceiling, pointed at the bed that Dahlia was laid out on. I couldn’t tell from here what its range was, but I didn’t doubt that it would also have a view of my chair.

I would have to factor that into whatever plan I came up with to get us out of here. For now, I avoided looking at it, letting my body sag in the chair to take some of the pressure off my shoulders. I couldn’t take a full breath in, thanks to the bullet I took to the chest, and I’d be shocked if I didn’t have a concussion. I watched Dahlia anxiously, studying the shallow rise and fall of her chest, wondering if he’d drugged her or if she’d been knocked out from a blow to the head like me. Neither option was good, but at this point very little about any of this could be consideredgood.

Working on the cuffs helped to focus my mind, and I went over our situation, looking for anything that might help us. Hunter knew where we’d been headed and he knew Curing was nearby. When they found my car with the tires slashed, they’d talk to him right away. If someone heard the gunshots, we’d be on their radar even sooner. I wondered where my phone had ended up—if Curing was smart, he’d have tossed it at the hospital, but maybe by some lucky chance it was back in his car or somewhere nearby. We were still in the city, at least from what I could tell, so they wouldn’t need to search very far. I just had to make sure we stayed alive long enough for them to track us down.

A wave of dizziness washed over me, my head pounding with renewed force as I swayed a little in my chair. I jerked my hand in the cuffs, hard enough for the metal to bite into my skin, pulling my awareness back into my body. I couldn’t pass out, I had to stay aware, stay awake. He could be back at any moment, or Dahlia could wake up, and I didn’t want her to wake up alone in here.

I kept working on the cuffs, repeating my mantra over and over in my head.

Stay awake, stay awake, stay awake...

Chapter sixteen

Dahlia

The first thing I noticed was how cold it was, and I blinked my eyes open, shivering myself into consciousness. Everything felt fuzzy, and my head was pounding like I’d had too much to drink, but I didn’t remember drinking. Had I left the window open? Why the hell was it so cold in here? I rolled over on my side, and the heavy weight of something metal pulled on my throat. My heart stopped, and I groped at my neck, my fingers tracing over the sickeningly familiar ring of metal and leather encircling it.

Please god, no. Not again.I sat up, the room spinning as my eyes adjusted to the unfamiliar surroundings. I looked down to find my legs bare, and my shirt was gone too, leaving me in just my bra and panties. I wrapped my arms around myself, trying not to fall apart. I couldn’t cry; if I cried, I could make noise and then it would hurt. Movement caught my eye, and I curled up instinctively until I recognized the familiar mop of black hair. Asher was here, but he didn’t look good. He was also shirtless,and bruises were starting to form across his chest. Suddenly, I remembered the events from back in the parkade. I’d been running when I heard a gunshot, and Asher had dropped to the ground. I’d thought he was dead, but, I guessed, the bullet must’ve hit his vest. His legs looked torn up, and he was duct taped to the chair he was sitting in. More blood was drying on one side of his face, his hair oddly flat in one area where he must’ve hit his head. Or been hit maybe, if that was how Curing had gotten him into the car.

It must be Curing, right?I never actually saw his face, he’d grabbed me from behind and jabbed something into my neck before I could fight him off. Fear twisted in my gut, and I wrapped my arms tighter around my chest, tucking my knees up into my body. A strand of hair fell across my face, and I brushed it away tiredly. The sick feeling in my stomach traveled up to my throat when I realized my hair was damp, and I swallowed roughly to keep from puking. The twisted freak had actually washed my hair while I was passed out. For some reason, this made me furious, and I blinked back tears of rage, my hands clenched into fists.

“Dahlia, don’t speak okay?” Asher whispered, and I jumped, not realizing he was awake. His eyes were glazed, eyelids drooping as if he was struggling to stay awake, but he was meeting my gaze, so that was something. I nodded dully and touched the collar on my neck so he would know I was aware of it. “It’s going to be okay,” he told me softly, and I bit the inside of my cheek to keep from crying.

Shifting off the bed as quietly as I could, I tested the strength of my legs. When they held me, I tiptoed toward Asher, testing the limits of the chain attached to my collar. I could get within a foot of Asher before it pulled taut, the collar biting into my neck. I wanted to scream in frustration— I knew Curing had done this deliberately, making sure that I couldn’t quite reachwhoever was sitting in that chair. Asher watched me with sad eyes, and I could see him leaning forward, trying to make up for the distance between us. “We’re on camera, be careful,” he whispered, his lips barely moving as his eyes darted up over my right shoulder for a brief instant before focusing back on me.

I gave him a little nod and began pacing around the room, checking the limits of my reach in all directions, allowing myself to glance at the camera once to verify its location. Of course, it was pointed at the bed, just like before. I shuddered and tried to cover myself with my arms, but it was nothing he hadn’t seen before. One of the hardest parts of captivity was the weird, mind-numbing boredom that set in, dampening the fear as the minutes stretched into hours. I eventually gave up on my pacing and curled back on the bed, facing Asher, tucking my knees into my chest for warmth. I guessed, I haven’t earned a blanket on the bed yet, or maybe he just didn’t have one, since this was his back-up lair.

“Don’t worry.” Asher whispered. “I’ll get you out of here. We still have to finish the second movie.” I smiled in spite of myself, a sob lodging itself in my throat. I wanted so badly to believe him, but it was hard to imagine us both getting out of here alive. Nobody even knew we were here, and Curing would never let me escape again, not after the last time. I closed my eyes, not wanting Asher to see the tears forming, pooling on my lashes. Taking a couple of deep breaths, I tried grounding myself like I had before. I couldn’t think about it, I couldn’t let the thoughts loose to eat away at the little sanity I had left.

The sound of a lock had my eyes opening, and I stayed frozen in place as the door creaked loudly. Asher’s posture stiffened, and I saw his jaw clench as my kidnapper walked into the room, a dress and a pair of heels in his hands. This was different, he’d never come into the room while I was awake before. I sat up and wrapped my arms over my chest, moving further back as heapproached. “It’s not the best quality, but all of our nice clothes were lost when they raided my home.” Curing sighed, shooting a glare toward Asher, who looked positively murderous. “I’m also out of the medicine I would use to keep you nice and docile, so you’re just going to have to be a good girl and do as I say.” The smile he shot me made me want to vomit, but I took the dress he held out to me with shaking hands. I gave him a wide berth as I stood up, slipping the dress over my hips and up over my shoulders. He motioned for me to turn, and I did, my eyes meeting Asher’s as Curing zipped up the dress, flinching when his fingers brushed against my skin.

“Now the shoes,” he ordered, thrusting them into my hands. I sat down and slipped my feet into the pointed red shoes, which were too small and pinched my toes. When I sat back up, Curing was leering at me, his eyes racking over my body. “Lay down on the bed,” he ordered, and I started to shake, my hands getting clammy as panic gripped my lungs. “I said lay down,” he snapped, and I flinched, sliding back on the bed and lowering until my head hit the pillow. Curing waited until I was laying on my back, and then climbed onto the bed next to me, his eyes roving over me. I fought to stay still, looking away from Curing and focusing on Asher instead. He met my stare, nodding encouragement, his gaze steady and grounding, pulling me away from Curing.

I tried not to breathe too quickly when his hands started to travel over my body, smoothing down wrinkles in the dress, picking off little bits of fluff here and there. Bile rose in my throat when his hand moved higher, brushing against my left breast. I squeezed my eyes shut, trying not to cry. I could taste blood in my mouth from how hard I was biting my cheek.

“Don’t touch her,” Asher snarled, his shoulder’s straining as he jerked forward in the chair.

“Shut up,” Curing muttered, shooting him a dirty look.

“How stupid did you feel when torturing my partner got you nothing?” Asher demanded, his voice low and taunting. Curing hissed through his teeth, his hand dropping away from me, his focus turning on Asher instead.

“Well, seeing how I still won, I guess it did get me something after all,” he snapped back impatiently.

“Did you slice up his face because he made you feel inadequate or because he turned you on?” Asher spat back, and I could actually feel the fury radiating off Curing. My heart was pounding as he climbed off the bed, stalking toward Asher with his fists clenched.

My mouth dropped open in a silent scream as he wound back and swung at Asher, his fist colliding with his face hard enough to jerk Asher’s head back in the chair. For a moment I thought he’d knocked him out, but then Asher chuckled and spat a mouthful of blood on Curing’s shirt. “That’s what everyone thinks, you know. And there’s no shame in being gay. The only shame you should feel is for the women you kidnapped and murdered because they were pretty and perfect and you aren’t.”

I closed my eyes as Curing hit Asher again, but it wasn’t much better, the sound of skin hitting skin echoed in my ears. This time, Asher’s head lolled onto his chest, his face bleeding where his skin had split open. “Fuck you,” Curing spat, storming out of the room. I waited a few moments, until I was sure he wasn’t coming back, and then I jumped off the bed and crept as close to Asher as I could manage.

There was no way for me to check him, I couldn’t even call out to get his attention. I took off one of the shoes and tried to reach him with that, but it barely brushed his knee. I would throw the shoe at him, but if Curing came back and I wasn’t wearing the shoes, he’d be even more furious.

I swayed unsteadily, desperate to check on Asher but just out of reach, so I stood there uselessly, tears running down myface. I could just barely see his chest rise and fall, and I let that comfort me for now, hovering in front of him until the exhaustion in my bones started to weigh me down.

Slipping the shoe back on my foot, I hobbled back to the bed, laying down on my back but keeping my eyes on Asher as long as I could before my eyelids finally drooped, and I somehow slipped off into an uneasy sleep.

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