Play Me - Revised

Chapter 8

I feel him sigh heavily.

"Look up."

I keep my head straight.

"I said look up," he regurgitates. I don't. I don't wanna be crushed, but I also don't want to be mistaken as being weak. I'm not. I won't ever be.

Annoyed, he grabs a handful of my hair and pulls my head back. I hiss and bite down on my tongue from cursing. His other hand lifts off from the chair's arm and finds a grip on my jaw.

"Do as you're told and you'll find things to be easy. But be a little brat, then I'll teach you exactly who you're messing with. I'm an impatient man and also the only man you'll be dealing with, so stop hoping for something better. You're not gonna get it."

Then it hits me, the reeking smell of smoke in his breath. I cringe, I hate the smell of cigarettes. The mint was an effort to hide his addiction. If my senses weren't naturally so heightened, I would've never smelled it. It's disgusting how people kill themselves every day. He lets go of my hair and plays with the blindfold.

"No," I beg. My hand's fist. His evil chuckle rings in my ear as he rips off the blindfold. "No!" I yell clenching my eyes. I can't see him.

"Look at me," the man orders. I keep my eyes closed. My whole future is at stake. I can feel the emptiness take over me. If I see this man, it's either over for me or him. There's no in-between just life or death, and this man is willing to risk it all, but I'm not. I'm not opening my eyes.

"Open your eyes, bitch!" he yells, backhanding me. I whimper as my ears ring and the sight of his expensive dress shoes fills my vision. My eyes blur with tears.

Starting now, life is a game.

The man finds his familiar grip on my jaw and forces me to look into his eyes. I gasp in surprise. The only light in the room is coming from the door. It's enough for me to see his face. This man seems so young like he's in his teens. But at the same time, if you don't pay as much attention as me, he could pull off saying that he's in his late twenties.

He's wearing a velvet maroon suit. Usually, I would gag at the choice, but this man looks like a daydream. His suit makes his grey eyes stand out making them the most attractive feature on his sculpted face. It's like God spent years planning his features alone. Every curve and indent is carved with such a delicate touch that even a flower would be jealous.

"Don't cry Kiddo, I've heard your family teaches you how to be a warrior," he says. His head closes in. My heartbeat fastens as our lips brush when he turns his head to the side. I suck in a deep breath as his breath cools my heated cheek. His left-hand travels along my bare leg hiding under my dress. "I'll teach you how to be a woman."

I feel his teeth nibble on my ear and I jerk my head back, shocked. I've never been exploited like this. Bile rises in my throat from the thoughts of what this man is capable of if I'm not saved. My wrists start to twist under the ropes, trying to break free. But as the blood starts to draw from my cut wrists, reality starts to hit me. Tears run down my cheeks.

I'm panicking.

"Kiddo," the guy looks at me dead in the eyes. I stare at him with pure disgust. "I know you haven't seen the world. Your family kept you hidden from it for a reason, but I've brought you here to show you how it works. You have two things to remember: do as I say and if you stay loyal, you stay alive. Understood?"

"Who's I?" I croak.

"Nick Black," he responds. I've heard his name. My brothers talk about a Nick all the time, about how dangerous he is. Apparently, it's his childish ways that make him so lethal.