Page 180 of Hexed
FORTY-NINE
VENESA
I’ve never hadsuch a severe headache in my entire life, and as I come to, blinking to clear the blur, I try to press my hand to my face to stem the pain, but my arms won’t move.
Clank.
My brain feels slow, like I’m swimming through sludge, and I’m having trouble getting my bearings to figure out where exactly I am.
Closing my eyes, I feel like I’m spinning, so I reopen them because the last thing I need is to throw up right now.
I’m lying down on something hard and cold. Definitely metal. I try to move my arms again, and this time a sound registers. Like nails on a chalkboard.
Clank. Clank. Clank.
I know that noise.
The longer I’m awake, the more I remember what happened and why I’m feeling so out of sorts, and I blink rapidly, trying to clear my vision.
That bitch Jessica shot me with a tranq gun.God, Bas is goingto murder me if I make it out of this alive.
I don’t bother moving again because I know it’s no use, as surely as I start to suspect exactly where I am.
My legs twitch, and the noise happens again. Metal hitting metal.
Clank.
I have to remember to ask Bas to change the material on these.
I will my eyesight to clear, but it’s still blurry, andGod, my head.
Closing my eyes and breathing through the nausea, I focus on my other senses.
If I listen closely, I can hear the faint sound of a running motor, the same timbre and pitch of my pookies’ saltwater aquarium.
My heart sinks.
I open my eyes again, willing them one more time to un-blur, and finally they do, at least a little, and my suspicions are confirmed.
I’m at the Lair. Chained to the table I’ve used so many times on others.
The irony is not lost on me.
My spirit guides have a sick sense of humor, doling out retribution this way.
Pulling at my restraints would be nothing more than a waste of energy, so I stay still instead. I know better than anyone there is no escape from here. Not unless someone frees you.
Who has me down here? Bastien? Uncle T?
Are they working with Carlos? They have to be.
Jessica said he was the real boss, and there’s no reason I’d be back here unless Bastien brought me. Uncle T’s only been here once or twice since he bought it, and he’s never been the kind of guy to get his actual hands dirty; he just loves doling out that responsibility to everyone else.
My heart hurts thinking Bastien may have come out to New York to trick me into trusting him, but right now, it’s the only option I can make sense of.
He knew I was leaving. I texted him.
I brought him along on almost every single outing with Enzo while we were in New York. He became friends with Scotty: the biggest gossip ever and definitely someone you’d want to sidle up to if you needed some information to slip.
