The Handsome Devil

Chapter 13 - Day 15

At times, you just know something bad is about to go down. There is this distinctive tension in the air that fills your core with inexplicable feeling of dread. Call it the sixth sense, intuition or anything you want, really. But hat's exactly what Deya felt while preparing for her fifteenth day of training.

For the past two weeks, her conversations with Patrick consisted of him telling her what to do, correcting her technique, and announcing the end of training session. The first few days, she attempted to make a small talk with the giant, however, being constantly ignored, they ultimately settled into a somewhat comfortable silence.

But even thought this pattern hasn't changed, she thought she could feel some sort of a tension emitting from the man yesterday. His voice was still stone cold, and not a muscle flinched in his face when he told her what time their next training starts. Yet, it seemed to Deya that for a millisecond, something unknown flashed through his eyes. Something she has never seen there before.

It disappeared so quickly that she couldn't be sure her mind wasn't playing tricks on her. Yet, the moment kept playing on repeat in her head, as she descended the stairs to start her training.

As usually, Patrick was already waiting for her in the hallway, acknowledging her with a nod. However, this time, he did not walk into the gym. Instead, he started to walk towards the basement. The one she knew quite well from the first day of her stay.

I knew it.

Her inner voice exclaimed. But it wasn't the victorious I-told-you-so moment.

. . .

When the door opened, Deya instantly froze. There they were. All the Peckham Bulldogs, and a man she hasn't seen before, all crumpled inside the small room and obviously waiting for her. The feeling of dread intensified.

"Come in, baby girl" Max's voice revealed pure enjoyment of the fear she displayed. But it was obvious she wasn't going to move on her own, too petrified of the things that are about to go down.

With a smirk, Max nodded to his men. Two pairs of hands grabbed her harshly and, ignoring her struggle completely, dragged her to the centre of the room.

As she wriggled in their hold, her eyes caught a glimpse of the table. Something seemed different about it, but before she had a chance to figure it out, Max's figure blocked her view.

"Today, you're getting branded, baby girl" He said with a smile, the girl's eyes widening in terror as she processed his words.

"L-let me go!" Even she could hear the hysteria in her voice.

"That's about the reaction I expected." Max chuckled and few of the men joined in. "But I took precautions, don't worry."

As he stepped aside, she took another look at the table, her eyes stopping at the leather straps in its corners.

No matter how much she thrashed around, no matter how many vile words she threw at them. In a minute, her belly was pushed against the tabletop and the straps were tighten around her wrists and ankles. 

"If I were you, I would relax" Those were Max's last words before the whirring of tattoo machine filled the room.

. . .

It's been five hours since they dragged her exhausted body back to her bedroom. For the first two, she just laid on the floor, contemplating how the hell did she get to this point in life. For the rest, however, she sat with her back to the mirror, peeled of the gauze and tried to peek on the tattoo decorating the back of her neck.