Total pages in book: 73
Estimated words: 71196 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 356(@200wpm)___ 285(@250wpm)___ 237(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 71196 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 356(@200wpm)___ 285(@250wpm)___ 237(@300wpm)
“Is there a phone somewhere?” I ask, emboldened.
“Afraid not,” she says, her back to me.
She doesn’t embellish. I get the feeling she’s been told not to let me use a phone if there is one.
“I just wanted to check on my brother,” I try again. Maybe she has a cell phone she’ll lend me.
“Well,” she plates up an omelet so perfect, my stomach growls in anticipation. “Mr. Killian will be here soon. I’m sure you can ask him about that. Coffee?”
I nod and pick up my fork. Mr. Killian will be here soon. As hungry as I am, I have to force the food past the sudden lump in my throat.
Helen makes a cup of coffee and sets it in front of me. “Cream or sugar?”
“No, thank you.”
“Well, I’d best get started. If you need anything else, holler.”
“Thank you.”
Helen disappears and I eat the plate of food, wondering about what’s happening. If he told her to take care of me, then maybe he’s calmed down? I’m thinking about that when the elevator dings again. I turn, sliding off my stool as Hugo enters followed by a man in a suit. He looks me over. Nods his greeting.
I stand there like an idiot.
“This is Doctor Horn. He’ll be handling your exam,” Hugo says to me.
“My exam?”
He turns to the doctor. He doesn’t bother to introduce me.
“If I can set up?” the doctor asks Hugo.
“Third door on the right.”
The room I’d slept in.
“What’s going on?” I hug the lapels of the bathrobe to me as Hugo approaches. I take a step away when he veers left with a chuckle and goes to the coffee machine. He makes himself a cup and turns to me, leans against the counter, looks me over.
“What the hell happened last night?”
“What do you mean?”
“You did a number on Kill’s face. Those scratches are usually on the back.”
My mouth falls open but he just swallows his coffee and sets his cup in the sink.
“Let’s go. We’re on a tight schedule,” he says, taking my arm.
“I’m not going anywhere with you. What exam? I have a doctor. I don’t need—”
“You need to be checked for STDs and we need to make sure your birth control is up to date.” He’s dragging me toward the hallway.
“What? Oh my god. You’re crazy!”
He stops.
“If you’d rather wait for Kill, we can do that. He’ll be here soon. I’m sure after last night, he’ll be very lenient.”
I look at his face, his eyes. They’re hard. He’s not messing around. I move when he begins to walk.
“I don’t need an exam,” I try, but I know my words fall on deaf ears.
In my bedroom, Dr. Horn has stripped the bed of everything but one pillow. He’s also set up his tools on a tray beside the bed. I recognize all the implements. My gynecologist uses them when I go in for my annual visits.
“Please disrobe and lie on the bed.”
Hugo has released my arm but I stiffen at the order. When I back away, I hit his wall of a chest.
“Do as you’re told and don’t waste the doctor’s time.”
Dr. Horn looks at me. “It’s just an examination. Routine.”
“It’s not routine. I don’t need—”
Hugo picks me up by the arms and carries me to the bed. I’m fighting but it’s useless. Once there, he sits me on the edge and takes my chin in his hand, forcing me to look at him. “I can tie you spread eagle to the bed or you can lay back and do what the doctor says and have it over with. This is happening. You decide how it’s happening.”
Instinct takes over and I try to make a run for it. Logic isn’t working because if it were, I’d know I have no chance of escape. I kick and scream as Hugo hauls me onto the bed and links my hands with a set of leather cuffs already attached to the top of the bed. Once I’m secured, he grabs one kicking leg at the ankle and drags it wide, his cold eyes on mine as he does. He links it to the cuff there. I’m still fighting when he takes the other leg and does the same. I’m spread wide, the robe barely covering the essentials, but Hugo keeps his eyes glued to mine as he unties and opens it wide, exposing me to him, to the doctor, to anyone who chooses to walk by the open door.
He then shakes his head at me. “She’s all yours, Doc.” He moves to the far wall where he’ll have an unobstructed view between my legs, and folds his arms across his chest as he leans against it and watches. I see Helen walk by the door but she doesn’t glance inside. She’s whistling and carrying on with her cleaning as if this is totally normal.