Chapter Three
Shit Gets Real
A tall man walks in with another of a more average height behind him. Auburn hair and brown eyes on the first. Those eyes are hard when they encompass the room, then light up with surprise and maybe a hint of concern when they land on me and Braeden. He immediately turns a dark look on Rex and Emmett, and I get the feeling that this must be their contact, and things are already not going according to plan.
"What the fuck," comes from the shorter man, confirming my thought. Dark brown curls and, from what I can tell in the dim light, either light blue eyes or maybe gray. The look of surprise on his face as he turns to the other man makes me think he’s in on this too.
So glad everyone else was in the know. Might have been nice to have been forewarned to drop my boyfriend like a hot rock as soon as this little plan was hatched. It's still surreal that I'm in this type of situation, and honestly, I think I’m in shock.
More footsteps sound, and both men don expressionless masks. The men coming in are big, and there are many. I'm thinking our escorts have arrived. They separate and pull us up one by one. I’m trembling and begin to freak out when they pull me away from Braeden. Quickly and quietly, before I start to struggle, he says, “Honey, just cooperate for now. Save it for when you need it.”
I really think this constitutes as needing it. I must silently convey it well enough with my mutinous look because he gets uncharacteristically sharp with me. "Lark, shut up and cooperate. We'll fix whatever later. You have to stay alive. Understand?" I nod, and his eyes soften. Quietly, he whispers, "Love you, bird brain."
“Who authorized the extras?” This from the tallest man that led the others in.
One of the other guards watching us closely, answers him. “They interrupted our acquisition, so I decided to bring them here. They are young and attractive, maybe a little sport for us guards if you don't want them, too?” The man is seriously disgusting, and from his speech and accent, English isn't his first language. Licking his lips as he stares at me, tied and hunched over in the grip of another guard, his eyes are flat and emotionless. Other than the shark-like curve to his mouth at the suggestion of us being his prey, that is.
My stomach churns as I pray to any god, demon, angel, or wannabe superhero that I won’t be given to him, and do my best to stop my trembling hands, so as not to look so breakable.
“It causes me to adjust my plans, and I’m not happy to have to do that.” Without even looking at the man, he snaps his fingers and gestures behind him. Three others walk in, and now it’s getting very crowded in here. “Men, since you needed a new toy so badly, take this one here. Maybe this will remind you to follow my instructions in the future.”
Immediately, the guard goes on the offensive, but he is encompassed by men that are all relatively his same size. He’s pissed, yet they overpower him easily. I can’t imagine he’s going to live long after they’re done with him.
out, guards file out leaving the two newcomers and us prisoners. The man in charge looks from me to Rex.
“Am I to understand that you explained things to these two?” His eyebrow is arched up with an expectant look as he waits.
“As much as possible, yes. No details, just the gist of it.” Rex won’t meet my gaze when I look at him. Can’t say I blame him, as I badly want to hit him.
Addressing all of us, he shares, “My name is Apollo Vitti. You may call me sir or master from here on out. I am not your law enforcement, as your men here should have explained, do not expect me to act in such a manner. It also would not do well for you to address me informally. I can direct things to a point. Anything catching attention will be dealt with immediately as I cannot have anyone suspect what is happening. I truly apologize that you were both pulled into this situation, but I cannot offer kindness from this point on without raising suspicion.” Turning to the other man, his dark eyes shutter. “Please take the new acquisitions to begin the intake process.” Turning on his heel he exits the room leaving us with his companion.
As the one left comes closer, I see his eyes are gray. He looks kindly at me with a touch of sadness. How did someone with such empathy end up in his position here? He cuts our bindings, and Braeden instantly comes to wrap his arms around me, my back to his front. I lean back into him, smelling his spicy aftershave that he loves so much. That small normality makes me feel more grounded. The man glances at Brade's arms around me with a bit of surprise after glancing at Rex.
“My name is Marcus. You can call me that in private, but make sure it’s ‘sir’ in front of others. It is safe to call everyone sir or madam. Only Apollo will be master. Do not call anyone else that, it will create problems you don’t want, I can assure you.” He opens the door and gestures for guards to come in. “I will be escorting you to the intake wing. Do not try anything, just follow. I do not wish to damage you.” This last is addressed to us as he walks out of the room.
We're led down a corridor with track lighting and gray painted walls and floor, all concrete. I’m starting to think we're in some kind of underground compound. We hang a left as we come to a split, before continuing on. The hallway has doors every so often, and some of the rooms that stand open have medical equipment. Much like a hospital, there is an antiseptic smell. I don’t hear any sounds either, other than our footsteps and the rush of air through the ducts above us. I come to a sudden stop as a guard grabs my arm. Gripping Braeden’s hand tightly, I pull him with me, trying to dislodge myself from the guard.
“This is your stop, girly, stop fighting me.” That’s not likely to happen. I refuse to be separated. Marcus comes around and grabs my arm that is holding Braeden's, while two other guards step in to grab his upper arms.
“You all have a process to go through. This will happen one way or another.” This comes from Marcus, as the door behind him opens up. I see that it’s an examination room, and I turn my gaze on Rex. Anguish and hate war for dominance in me, and I see him visibly flinch. This is his fault, and he knows it. Emmett looks pissed when I glance at him, and Braeden is sad and trembling with the need to struggle. I lift my chin and give him my best determined look. Let them get out of sight so I don’t have to worry about them getting injured on my behalf, then I’m kicking the first person to touch me.
I turn to step into the room with my escorts as Marcus leads the others away. Upon entering, I take note of the exam room table and supplies. The door is shut, and two guards remain with me. The room is large and has another door at the other side that opens as I pull myself to a halt. I’m not moving a step further without an explanation. Yet another man walks in, this one in a white lab coat with the usual stethoscope around his neck. How can a doctor work for a place like this? He doesn’t look malicious, but I don’t think I’m going to get too far with sympathy either. As if reading my thoughts, he speaks.
“Don’t appeal to me to help you escape. I cannot help you. Please sit on the table.” I look from one male to the next until I've eyed each of them, making sure they aren’t trying any funny business. Sitting on the table doesn’t seem too harmful, so I comply. “First, I’m going to do a routine physical, and then I have questions for you. After those questions, we will conclude the second part of the physical.” Well, he’s certainly straightforward. “I’m going to start now, please remain still and follow my directions. I am Dr. Brent Martins. You may call me Dr. Brent or Dr. Martins. What is your name?”
“Lark.”
“Last name?”
“Jones.”
“Really?”
“Yes, really.” Idiot. He doesn’t remark on anything else.
He goes through the usual, blood pressure, temperature, listening to my lungs and checking reflexes. I use the opportunity to scan him. He’s shorter than the other men, but seems fit. Dark blue eyes and light brown hair. A bit of a shadow of a beard, as if he hadn't shaved today, covers a square jaw. He’s not unattractive, yet his eyes are mostly blank, and his movements methodical. I get a little concerned when he has me lay back, but it’s just to palpate my stomach area, and I am directly sat back up. This is way too easy, and I’m waiting for the other shoe to drop. He pulls out a blood draw kit from a drawer. I cross my arms mutinously.
“I need to take some samples to test for any illnesses and evaluate your general health. Please hold out your arm.”