Banking On My Bodyguard

chapter 38

I finally came around after my harsh beating, but the aches and pains all over me were a cruel reminder of my circumstance.

I groaned slightly and tried to lift my head, leaning it back against the wooden chair. I opened my eyes as far as they would go, but the swelling and bruising didn't help my vision.

I sighed to myself, but even that hurt, as if Elijah had somehow squeezed my lungs in his harsh grip.

I was entirely broken now. Pain and exhaustion seemed to be running through my veins, mixing with my blood and draining my optimism.

In all honesty, feeling this way had made me wish I was dead, and the darkness of that concept was terrifying.

As I stared up at the cracks in the ceiling, I recalled the crime shows I'd watched over the years. The luckier victims managed to escape after years of captivity, retelling horror stories about years of torment under the power of their kidnapper. With my newfound perspective, I suddenly wondered how they kept hoping for all those years. It seemed either entirely maddening, or the only thing that might keep you grounded.

The physical discomfort and starvation of my ordeal was one thing, but the emotional torment was another level of trauma.

I had no idea how long passed as I sat in agony, staring at the ceiling and listening to the incessantly dripping tap. As my mind drifted, each spare thought was of my family, friends or mostly Kingsley.

Every time I recalled the last day we'd spent together it seemed like a happy photograph and I couldn't believe it had only been a couple of weeks ago, rather than years. I'd barely been conscious long enough to really think about the events of that day properly.

I missed him so much, it was like a dull ache I couldn't shake, some part of me felt like there was unfinished business between us. We hadn't even begun our relationship and it had already been taken away.

Even my dreams had left me these last few weeks. When I slept nothing came to my unconscious mind, as if I'd been hollowed out. My eyes flickered to the empty IV bag near my chair as I wondered about the substance they'd been putting into my body. Perhaps that was the reason for my lack of clarity.

I felt a rumble in my stomach, tearing me from my thoughts and bringing me back to reality. I wondered how long it had been this time between my sleeps, how long it was since I'd last been fed.

As I tried to clear the fog in my brain, I heard the door creak open and turned my attention towards it.

A man entered, I recognised him from being behind the camera when they'd filmed me. He shut the door firmly behind him and strode into the light properly.

He was relatively plain looking, with short brown hair and brown eyes. He was average height but well built.

"Ahh, you're awake. Good."

I didn't reply to his remark but my eyes followed his form as he strode over to the sink and picked up the paper cup that was sitting on it. He placed it under the tap, letting the clean water fill it before coming over to me.

He held it up to my lips and tipped it slightly in offering.

"Here."

I opened my mouth and let him pour the refreshing liquid into me. It was cool and helped soothe my raw throat. I soon finished it and he returned to the tap, filling it again before tilting it into my mouth.

I locked eyes with him as he helped me, noticing that he was a lot older than Elijah. There was a softness to his features and I wondered what circumstances had brought him to this kind of life.