Endeverafter: The Series Presents The Cursed One

Chapter Fourteen

Virek's loft was quiet, but it wasn't the type of silence that scared her. Instead, it was calming. Anyone who wasn't named Axel or Sven would have a pretty hard time trying to break in. That was more than Drue could say about her own apartment. As she walked inside, she kept her head down. She was tired and every part of her body hurt. Unsure of what to do, where to sit, to get comfortable or not to get comfortable... after what she'd just been through, she wasn't sure of anything.

"Ah, I don't have anything here that will fit you but you're free to wear one of my shirts if you'd like."

Drue pulled his jacket off of her shoulders and hung it on the back of one of the kitchen chairs. "Is that what you tell all of the girls?"

"Only the ones I care about." Virek grabbed a bottle of Whiskey and poured himself a drink. "Bathroom is upstairs."

Virek's loft bedroom was simple and cleaner than her entire apartment. The bed was low and made up of a plush white comforter, two gray pillows and a gray throw blanket at the foot of the bed. The bathroom was full of bright white tiles, a floating sink and a shower with a waterfall faucet finish. She closed the door and locked it before she willed herself over to the sink. Gripping the edge, horror filled her eyes. Dark bags sat underneath her swollen and puffy eyes. The cut on her lip left dry blood stuck on her chin and her cheek had taken on a purple and blue color. She raised her hand to touch the bruise and winced at the pain. Then she noticed the reddish brown bruises around her wrists, reminding her that she must have been tied up to that chair longer than she thought. The corners of her eyes dampened as she dropped down to her knees, holding onto the sink to balance. But eventually, she let go and sat down on the ground. How could any of this have happened to her? Why did it have to happen to her? Why her? She sat cross-legged on the cold tiled floor and rested her head against the wall.

Virek poured himself a drink and sat down on his couch. He thought about Drue and wondered how she was feeling. Freaked out, most likely. The fear in her eyes replayed in his mind. As he took a sip of his drink, he wondered if she'd ever tell him what happened in that room. He wouldn't have blamed her if she didn't. There was no telling what those sick Dark Fae fucks were planning on doing to her. But at least she would never have to find out. As he sipped his drink, he could see Drue stepping off of the stairs and walking towards him. Dressed in one of his white t-shirts, for the first time he could see how tiny she was. So petite and fragile, even. The shirt looked like a balloon on her, but it did little to hide her toned legs. Her brown hair was damp. He could see that she had washed her face and without any makeup on - no filled in eyebrows or eyeliner - he couldn't help but stare at her. Even with the bluish-purple bruises on her face, she looked... innocently... beautiful? "I see you've fixed yourself up," he said. "Well done."

"Yeah, well it's the best I could do," Drue said, sitting on the couch beside him.

As she sat down, the t-shirt lifted and Virek noticed a large bandage on her thigh. "Aye, what's that about?" he asked. "What happened?" He placed the glass on the coffee table and slid closer to her.

"Oh, that was courtesy of Ajax." She jumped as he reached out to touch her thigh. His eyes trailed up to hers and without saying a word, a feeling of calmness fell over her. It was as if he was telepathically telling her to trust him.

He slowly pulled the bandage up revealing the long scar. It was thin, deep and torn open just underneath her skin. It spread across her thigh from left to right. "Fucking shitbag, that one was. He's lucky all I did was blow his legs off." He covered her thigh back up and turned forward.

"If you ask me, he got off easy."

"Be careful there, love. You're starting to sound like one of us." Virek reached out to grab his glass and was about to take a sip until Drue grabbed the glass. He watched as she took a sip and gave the glass back to him. "One of us, indeed." Holding the glass on top of his knee with his right hand, he sat back on the couch, with his left hand underneath his head.