My Locked Away Mate

Chapter 4

Amaly's POV

Soft. Curling my fingers against the material, I've never felt anything like it. Maybe I'm dead. No, Mr. Black wouldn't have let me die. Rolling onto my side I feel a sharp pain in my right side and take in a sharp breath. Definitely not dead. "No, no darling you got to stay on your back." I hear a soft and distant voice say as I feel someone gently roll me onto my back. I want to open my eyes but they are so heavy. "Why do you talk to her? She can't hear you. She might never wake up." A second higher pitched voice spoke in the distance.

    "I talk to her because this be my only chance and maybe my voice will help bring her back. You can go. I can take it from here." I hear a door close.

    I can hear someone sit near me with a huff. They sound so sad. Why? Wait why do I care? It's not like things are going to change. They're probably just mad that Mr. Black saddled them with the job of making sure I don't die. Moving my hand across the blanket I sigh, it is so soft, something about it reminds me of home. Not my home where I grew up but the feeling of home like being safe and cared for. With that strange feeling settling in my stomach I finally am able to pry my tired eyes open.

    The ceiling above me is obscured by a thin deep blue netting connected to four dark oak posters of the bed I'm in. looking down towards my toes there is a TV on the far wall above a fireplace with a large couch sitting before it. Where the hell am I? This isn't Mr. Black's. What happened?

Closing my eyes to think; the last thing I remember was being taken to see Mr. Blood. He was toying with my leg and I prayed that as my birthday present I'd pass out or die. I guess I got what I wished for, too bad my body didn't trick my brain into thinking it was dead and let me die. But I might as well enjoy this comfort before it's gone. Sighing I turn my head and tuck my hand under it to try and go back to sleep. The material covering my hand is so soft against my face and smells like the forest after it rains and a campfire, letting out a more content sigh feeling safe for now I let myself drift off.

*            *            *

I wake up to a cold breeze against me, groaning I try to sit up but feel too weak. I settle for something I know I can do, I open my eyes even though it takes some effort. Once my vision focuses I look to my right and there is a lady, a very pregnant lady, dipping a cloth in water. She turns back towards me and she gasps in shock dropping the cloth. She stares at me for a few seconds before her eyes begin to glaze over like the world went out of focus for her.

Seeming to wake up she moves to sit in the chair by me. I watch her hesitantly, "I'm sure there is a lot you want to know but unfortunately I don't have all the answers for you. I'm Kyrie, I am one of the few people helping take care of you." Take care of me? My leg couldn't be that bad it only happened yesterday.

I try to sit up, struggling, Kyrie quickly moves toward me and I flinch away from her. Pressing up against the headboard, feeling trapped I start to look around for what to do. Looking through the window filing that away as a possible exit, I hear the door swing open violently and I quickly turn my head to look that way. There stands a six foot something man built of solid muscle looking absolutely livid. Blinking a few times to get my brain to start functioning again I realize he's walking directly towards me. Fuck. Flicking my eyes to the pregnant lady again before back to him, I scrabble backwards off the side of the bed hitting the floor with an audible thud. Knowing how bad my leg must be I don't bother to stand up, I just lift my head enough to peak over the edge of the bed.

The man is standing there with a look of complete horror and pain etched into his features. "Are you okay? How are you feeling?" Taken aback by the question I take a moment to survey my body. Looking over myself nothing seems to be screaming in pain but after the pain I've been through some soreness wouldn't even register on my pain scale. However, outside of how things feel I do notice I'm in clothes that don't belong to me. I have a man's, a very large man's that is, sweatshirt and new underwear finally noting I don't have pants on.