Chapter 17
“Ahem, Mr. Wilcox, am I interrupting?” The stranger asked primly.
Stan looks warily between the newcomer and me before slowly lowering his fist. “It’s Dr. Wilcox, to you. And yes, you are interrupting,” he corrects the other man derisively, determined to remain in control of the situation despite the blood pouring down his face. “My student and I were just having a… conversation. I’ve got a few questions that need answering.”
The blonde man’s gaze flickers across me only for a moment, but by the way his lips purse ever so slightly, I get the impression that he knows exactly what type of conversation had just been taking place.
“Shame, you’ll need to hold onto those questions for a while longer.
Deep frown lines crease Stan’s face as his expression grows increasingly hostile. “No, I don’t think so. She’s my student, from my crew, you get me? That means she’s my responsibility.”
The way Stan says responsibility sounds an awful lot like property. Fortunately, the newcomer doesn’t intimidate easily. “Need I remind you that we are on Enigma property? As long as Ms. Addison is a guest here, she is our responsibility.” He gives Stan a pointed look over the rim of his glasses, “As are you, Dr. Wilcox.”
I struggle to follow along with the line of conversation, but I’m surprised when Stan backs down. He raises his hands as if the man in the lab coat is the one here in need of calming, “Alright, alright, I hear you. I don’t want any trouble.”
The other man gives the tiniest smirk, “Then might I suggest you report to the infirmary and get yourself cleaned up? It looks like your conversation may have gotten a little out of hand.”
Stan scowls, and without another word, walks off, pinching the bridge of his nose. He slams the door behind him, but when he does, it’s just me and the bespeckled stranger. One one hand, I’m grateful to have Stan put in his place. On the other…I’m very much aware that I’m chained to an unknown bed in an
unknown location with an unknown man.
1
I look at the door and wonder if I hadn’t been better off with Stan.
After all, at least he was the devil I knew.
The unfamiliar man in the white lab coat takes a cautious step toward me. “Ms. Addison, how are you feeling?”
I stare at him, mouth agape at the ridiculous question. I’m disheveled, bruised, battered, and not to mention handcuffed to a fucking bed.
“Not great,” I finally reply, my voice still hoarse from trying desperately to hold back the sobs clawing to escape. Too many thoughts clamor around inside my skull, none of them making sense. With nothing else to offer, I say the first thing that comes to mind. “C–can you please untie me?”
The man’s eyes shoot wide behind his glasses. “Oh! Of course!” He scrambles to set down the clipboard in his hand and hurries to my side. “Apologies for what I’m sure must have been a rude awakening,” he says, uncuffing me from the bed. “I had hoped to be the first person you saw when you recovered.”
Recovered, I think. That’s one way to put it. One by one, he releases my wrists and ankles. I immediately push myself into a sitting position, tucking my bare legs beneath me. I rub my wrists, surprised to find them relatively unchafed, and a furtive glance at the cuffs confirms that they were indeed padded. Interesting, I think.
“Mind telling me why I was restrained in the first place?”
He straightens, adjusting his glasses. “Well, you weren’t, at least not initially. Upon arrival, you were fine, but then Dr. Wilcox administered another dose of sedative, which made you…restless.”
“Restless?” I ask.
“A lot of thrashing…some biting,” he shrugs. “We figured you were having a negative reaction to whatever disgusting little cocktail Wilcox was pumping you with and didn’t want you to further aggravate your injuries.” He nods toward my shoulder, where I now see the bandage covering the spot where Stan shot me. Bastard.
“Who, exactly, is ‘we‘?”
He straightens up at the question, a thoughtful look on his face. Then, he hands me a bundle from a nearby table, gesturing toward a door on the far wall. “Here. Get cleaned up, and I’ll show you.”
Hesitantly, I take the bundle and watch as he heads for the door to give me privacy while I change. “Wait! I don’t know your name.”
1/2
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