RUINED ALREADY [18+]

|Three|

Fear is a powerful antidote.
~Penelope

♦Penelope♦

A throbbing pain woke me from a dream of gore and death. As I sat up in bed a wave of nausea swept through me and the need to dry heave was strong.

I squinted to adjust my eyes to the dim room. The thin chiffon turquoise curtain billowed with the morning breeze and the skyline of daybreak was visible through the arched widows.

Turquoise curtains?

I didn't have chiffon turquoise curtains. The fear came swiftly like a powerful antidote. Was I kidnapped? Oh God! I clutched my throat as my head spun with all the possibilities. I looked around the room for any signs. The last time I was never in a large bed. The room had been dark and damp and smelled of what I imagined death was lik.

I glanced at my hand fearing to see lacerations in my wrists but the skin was untarnished. No sign of cuffs being there.

I frantically searched the room again. It was all glass and steel and spoke of a luxury I'd never known.

Moving towards the silver nightstand I pulled the top drawer open and dipped my hand inside. Something cold and hard met the tips of my fingers and I knew instantly what it was. My breath inched as I pulled out the weapon ready with a silencer on the tip. Whoever house I was in was clearly prepared and paranoid much like I lived my life. He always expected anything to happen. At least I had something in common with this stranger.

The gun felt heavy and I attempted to seek if the barrel was empty but I already had my answer.

"That's not a toy, little girl."

I jumped halfway off the bed and fearing the worst I pointed the gun at no one in particular. Until my eyes zeroed in on the large shirtless man standing a few feet away. When had he come in?

My fingers shook as they tightened around the weapon.

"Querida, lower it."

His voice wielded dominance and sheer authority. I trembled. Golden eyes bore into mine and I stared at him, a silent battle raging between us.

"Now," he repeated. Ice pulsed through my veins at the command and I found myself obeying.

Obeying.

The word sounded dirty and it brought me to a time where I had no say over my own body and worst, my soul. With a promise of vengeance I aimed it at him. A low growl left his throat and he dragged his fingers through his damn dark hair as he glared at me.

"Who are you and why I'm I in your bed?" I spat.

My eyes popped wide. I knew I was in a bed but still I wasn't cognizant of my surrounding, too focused on the stranger a few feet away. For the first time I realized that I wore a T–shirt. Had he undressed me? Put me to bed? Had he looked at me and seen the scars?

Or worst did he violate me before? Was it what this was about? Taking advantage of an unconscious, defenseless woman?

He took a meaningful step towards the bed and I stiffened. The way he moved was almost sensual, graceful like a cat.

"Don't you dear step any closer or I'll pull the trigger."

His smile was chilling.

"I save a damsel in distress and this is the thanks I get. I had expected gratitude but since you like to play rough. Go ahead, chica. Do it. I implore you."