Twisted Deceit (Deceit #3)

Chapter 2

On a single hand I could count the number of times I hadn’t shed a tear. Most people would think I was a baby for how often and how much I cried. I just couldn’t help it. I was a crier, and no amount of threats would stop the tears.

I’ve been beaten to the inch of my life more than once because of my emotions, and it wasn’t ever going to change. Nothing could be done. No hits, punches, or whacks of an object would change how I reacted.

Waking up wasn’t going to change that either. It wouldn’t matter that I was sick of the tears as much as the people around me were.

When a gentle voice called out, trying to coax me awake, I did what any normal human being would do. I whined in the back of my throat, turning my face against the thinnest pillows ever created and tried to block out the rest of the world.

I was so tired. I couldn’t recall the last time I had a full night of rest that wasn’t interrupted. Sleep was something I found wherever I could. Let it be between being used to service a man, to cleaning up the vomit that came from me when a man’s dick went too far. The little bit of rest I got in the past however many years was far and in between.

I hated to say it, but the times I was drugged was where the fake rest came the most. Otherwise, I woke up to every noise, woke up to any touch.

Now it wasn't any different, even though all I wanted was to just freaking sleep. I couldn’t go on any longer like this.

I was done.

Please , I cried, feeling tears leak from the corners of my eyes as I pulled my legs even tighter against my body. The spark of pain didn’t stop me from making myself look as small as I felt.

Couldn’t the world just let me die alone?

“Time to wake up.” The voice came again, this time just a bit closer. “I have food for you.”

At the mention of food, my stomach snarled in hunger. The last thing I ate had made a reappearance shortly after I had been called to a room in the huge house to service a man.

I shivered, remembering the cold eyes that had hated every bit of me. The man liked my body, but not the tears that never shut off. Maybe he thought that choking me with his dick would stop them. All it did was cause me to puke. On his shoes. The smack against my head was worth it since I hadn’t been forced to do anything else for the night. That type of pain was ten times better than being bent in half and having something forced into a hole that wasn’t meant to be filled in such ways.

I coughed, feeling my stomach spasm with the fantom dick in my mouth. Now probably wasn’t the time to let my mind wonder, but I had no choice. My mind did what it wanted, as did the panic that slapped me in my chest.

My heart began to beat too fast, my lungs crying for air to enter them. My stomach squeezed in on itself like it wanted to expel more than just the lack of contents that it currently held.

Slipping a knuckle in between my teeth, I bit down as hard as I could. The tiny spark of pain from my teeth impeding into the side of my finger helped draw a breath into my lungs. But with it, my stomach decided it was done for.

I barely had time to remove my knuckle from my clamped teeth and lean over the edge of the bed before puking up what little I had in me. It hit the floor with a splat, bile leaving a bitter taste behind me.

God. How much more pathetic could I get?

I sobbed, flopping back to where I had been. I wanted it to all stop. I would have liked nothing else but to shout it from the rooftops, even if my voice would work. No part of me worked like it should, and hadn’t since I was a young child.

“It’s okay, dear. Nothing we haven’t dealt with before.” The voice was an attempt of being caring, understanding maybe, but it didn’t do anything to help me. Nothing would. “Deep breaths, now. In. Out.” A hand touched my back, going up and down. I jerked away from the warmth, causing everything in my body to remember that it hurt.

Oh God. Oh my freaking God.

I squeezed my eyes as tight as they could, willing myself to just die. Maybe my beating heart would take off, beat right out of my chest. It could leave a gaping hole in its wake, and then I’d be gone from this hell.

Living was hell. There was nothing good about this place. No type of scenery could give me hope. Nothing would give me peace. No drugs, no comfort of any sort, could soothe me in a way that I needed.

I just wanted to die.

My racing heart calmed too quickly, letting me know some sort of drugs were once again entered into my system. But the sobs merrily turned into soundless crying, tears leaking onto the pillow and nose stuffy as the seconds passed.

“We’ll remember to not wake you that way again,” the woman spoke again, fiddling with the tube that was taped into my arm. “I just gave you some pain meds, and more anti-anxiety meds, too, into your IV.”

I shook my head, although I highly doubt she saw. I didn’t want the drugs. I didn’t want to be here.

Wait.

Never before had a woman been someone in the same room here after I was forced to sleep. That thought made me pause, unsure on what to think or what to do.

Why now? What was different? Where the heck was I even at? Did it even matter, when I knew I wasn’t going to be here all that long anyhow?

Peaking a single eye open, everything was blurry for a few blinks, which was partly from the medicine and the tears that still clouded my sight. After a few seconds, the room became clearer. Well, as clear as it could be for me. Certain things were still blurry, but I was able to see a huge window that was letting in sun, or I assumed so anyways. The blinds were drawn in such a way that I couldn’t see out, but there was light coming through.

There weren’t many times sunlight entered the holding rooms in the past. Mostly, those times were when I was chained to a bed. This time, there was no chain, no clanking of metal against another object.

Turning enough, I spotted the IV in my arm, taped to the skin. Letting my eyes travel up the tube, I lost sight of it as my gaze landed on where the beeping came from. The letters and numbers on the device were blurry, all mixing together, but I could see the brown box with a screen.

“You’re in a hospital, hon.”

I jerked, having forgotten I wasn’t alone. My watery eyes flung to the voice.

At the end of the bed stood a woman in purple clothes, black hair over one shoulder. Her voice was still soft, and I wasn’t able to exactly read her expression. His lips were blurry, which didn’t surprise me.

Rubbing a hand, the one that was attached to something, across my face did little to help make things any clearer. Squinting, I tried to figure out what happened and how I got here.

“Someone dropped you off, saying they found you stumbling along the side of a road. You passed out in their truck on the way here.”

That didn’t sound right.

I shook my head, letting my eyes take a look around the small yet large room. A blue form of something was in the corner. Maybe a chair? Something black was on the wall in front of the bed, and a sink on the side wall under a bunch of cupboards.

“The doctor will be in a bit,” she went on slowly and quietly. “But we ran bloodwork and did some x-rays. You were out of it the entire time, mostly.” Well, that at least explained why I felt hands on me off and on, I guess. “A few fractured ribs, low iron levels and bruises everywhere.”

I had nothing to say to that. I didn’t care. It wasn’t like they could do anything to really help me. This was just a stopping spot until the next place I landed.

“Because you appear to be a minor,” she paused long enough for me to reply. I had no clue where she was going with that, I kept my mouth shut. I couldn’t answer her anyways. Master, whoever it would be next or if the current one was looking for me found out I talked, then she’d be in danger too.

I wasn’t that stupid, but I sure was confused.

I knew what a hospital was. I’ve never been in one, since that’s where people went when they were dying. So, was I that close to death? Was this showing me that my minutes fighting for breath were numbered?

When the lady went on, I tilted my head, letting the confusion hopefully express itself that way. None of this made sense. I didn’t feel like I was currently at my death bed, but that could be thanks to drugs, I suppose.

“I had to call your visit to the police. Someone will by it later today to have a chat with you. Then after that we can figure out how to contact your parents, and get you the help you need to get back on your feet.”

I glanced at my feet, finding them hidden under the blankets. My feet, all ten toes, were right there. I even wiggled them to make sure. Why would I need to find them?

“You must be starving,” she continued after a moment when I didn’t say a single word. “I have some pudding and crackers.” With that, she pulled out some sort of moving tray from thin air, or at least that’s what my mind said happened. I hadn’t noticed it before until then.

After she moved the top across the edge of my bed, I saw there was one cup of pudding and a package of crackers, along with a cup of water and a spoon. Not much, but given minutes ago I threw up, it was probably the best idea to not eat much of anything. Or nothing at all. I’d go with that.

“Can I at least have a name?”

I tore my gaze away slowly from the table back to her.

“I’m Anna.”

I blinked. What difference did it make to have a name? I answered, well sort of, to a hundred different names. Mostly, it was boy or slave . Or a mix of those two with something else. Not to mention, I couldn’t answer. Master would be so upset if he found out I talked to anyone.

“Alright,” she sighed, giving up just like everyone else. “You eat. Rest.”

Sure thing , I thought. Instead of speaking, I turned my gaze back to the pudding, not really hungry. But I knew better than to pass up food, even when I didn’t feel good.

“If you need anything, press the red button on the side of the bed.”

I nodded once, knowing I wouldn’t do that. I’d rather die.

“You’re safe, now.” With that, she left, her shoes muffled against the shiny floor.

Safe . I wanted to scoff. I had never been safe. Someone always wanted me for something, and I’d suffer. Every damn time. I didn’t have to be fourteen years old to know this world hated me. I found out just how much I hated everything about life at the age of seven.

That was when things went from tolerable to full on hell. I’d wished so many times for death to take me, and so far I was still living.

Sniffing, I ran the back of my hand under my nose before reaching for the white pudding cup. Past experience told me to eat as quickly as possible, before the food was taken away. It’d happen way too many times. Just because this lady, Anna, seemed nice enough, it didn’t mean she wasn’t told to take the food away from me if I didn’t eat quickly enough.

The first spoonful slid down my throat slowly, almost clogging it. But after that, my body remembered how to eat food and the pudding was gone in barely under a minute. Then, I hurriedly ate the crackers, too. Those sat like a rock in my stomach.

Shifting around on the bed, I laid back on my side, knees pulled up against me as tight as I possibly could. The pain in my stomach only grew, causing my eyes to water.

I hadn’t noticed someone come in to clean up my mess from the floor, but by the smell, I could tell it had been taken care of. Wiped away as though it had never happened.

If only that could work for my life, too. I wanted every bad thing to be washed away, forgotten and buried deep underground to never be seen or thought of again. I’d like to go there, too.

Breathing in deep, I let my eyes close. Maybe if I wished hard enough, I’d get what I wanted. But for now, I’d welcome some sort of rest before my body was demanded to be used yet again.