Total pages in book: 108
Estimated words: 100545 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 503(@200wpm)___ 402(@250wpm)___ 335(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 100545 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 503(@200wpm)___ 402(@250wpm)___ 335(@300wpm)
Clover’s limbs turned ice cold. Once that tiny chip was out of his body, he’d forever lose his connection with the men he loved. They’d never find him, and he’d spend his life in a cage, ‘performing’ for Diana’s pleasure.
And what would happen if he refused? Would he be disposed of? Sold to someone who might have a different, more sinister use for him? Beaten into submission? All the possibilities were dire, and despite knowing there wasn’t much he could do about his position, he still thrashed when the goon returned with another man and held him down.
“No! I’ll be good, I swear. Don’t take it out!”
“Hold still or it will hurt more!” one of the men yelled, forcing Clover to lie face down in the grass with a knee pressed to his back. Clover smelled the dirt, felt it rubbing against his bare skin. He couldn’t believe this was happening to him, but when a sharp pain penetrated his brain, all he could do was scream. He’d be lost forever. Yet another forgotten face. A name that might as well have never existed. The tracker that had been put in him out of love couldn’t help him anymore.
His face was streaked with tears by the time one of the goons finished stapling his flesh back together, and when strong arms hauled him back to his knees, he didn’t even try to resist. The piece of technology that had connected him to his men was gone, and his will—nearly broken, but he still held on to hope. If he wanted to ever get out of here he needed to play Diana’s crazy game.
“There, there,” Diana cooed as she scooted next to him. She rubbed his tears away with her thumbs, as if she were trying to comfort a child. “You’re so, so, pretty, Clover. That little wound will heal in no time. Have a cupcake, it will make it better.”
Clover stared at her in disbelief as the goon removed his cuffs and dragged him to the human-sized birdcage. Its floor was covered with a spongy mattress that dipped under Clover’s weight, and he sat down, resigned to his fate. One look at the bars was enough to tell him they were way thicker than those in a real bird cage would have been. The shock didn’t fully settle in yet when he watched his new mistress through the bars as the only door was secured with two fat padlocks.
His gaze drifted to the cupcakes, and he grabbed one, itching to fill his stomach despite the nausea thickening in his throat.
“That’s it, Clover. I had them baked just for you.”
He stilled for half a second, wondering what kind of drugs they could be laced with, but Diana had put far too much effort into acquiring him to risk damage to her new property, so he bit into the sickly sweet treat, knowing that if he ever got out of there, he wouldn’t touch a cupcake again.
The pain in his shoulder made his eyes well up, but he still chewed until he could force himself to swallow.
“That’s it, that’s a good boy,” Diana said with a smile, cupping her face as a flush crept into her cheeks. “You will only be eating white foods from now on. They will fit with your aesthetic. I can’t wait to see you eat marshmallows.”
“I have no aesthetic,” Clover mumbled but forced himself to swallow some of the frosting. It was soft and smooth, as if the baker used real butter for the cream, but the amount of sugar masked whatever flavor it was meant to be.
Diana grabbed the bars, watching him with her intensely gray eyes. “You do from now on.”
Clover wasn’t about to argue, so he stayed silent when she rose.
“I will be back later. Take your time getting accustomed to your temporary cage.”
Clover watched her step back, pinned down by the dark gaze of her goons. Were they not going with her? He did not want to stay with those people. “Wait. I’ll be cold at night!” Clover said, feeling needles of air push into his skin as one of the men picked up Clover’s clothes from the grass.
But Diana waved her hand at him. “Nonsense. You just need to get used to it all.”
Clover hugged his knees to his chest, and a part of him wanted her to come back just so that he could focus on the terror of here and now instead of sinking into thoughts of the future that awaited him. Of rape, of pain, of captivity, and an endless loneliness he would never get to fix.
Chapter 21 – Clover
Clover was cold.
He curled up on the thin mattress in the hope that some kind of heating system was in place, but as the recordings of bird songs were replaced by howls and other noises one might associate with night-dwelling creatures, he was still cold. In the distance, the dog was still barking every now and again, and his body became number with every passing minute. The new wound ached, but what hurt most was the invisible gash that refused to close.