Atlas - Roberts Alyne - Страница 9
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VI
Atlas
Stella was covered in blood and limp in my arms. Her clothes were soaked, her long hair dripping water on the floor. I ripped off the sheet with one hand and placed her on the bed. Her blonde hair was a mess, strewn with leaves and dirt. Scrapes and cuts covered her face, and her hands were bloody. When I turned, Tony stood in the doorway with bandages and a damp cloth. Pushing aside my anger at him, I grabbed the stuff from his hands.
I knelt on the mattress, using the wet cloth to wipe the blood from her hands so I could see where it was coming from. Behind me, Sal appeared with the first aid kit, loaded with antibiotic cream, pain reliever and rubbing alcohol. After cleaning up her hands, I found few cuts from where she broke the glass windows. I didn't think she would fit through the small space, but the little shit was determined.
Stella didn't wake as I poured the alcohol over her cuts. Tony put blobs of antibiotic cream on them, but nothing looked deep enough for stitches. I wanted to kill him for letting her get away, but he was one of the few I trusted with my mission. I would need him, but I would be kicking their asses later for fucking up.
Sal was busy cleaning up her face. After the dirt was wiped away, I could tell that the scrapes were only minor. The brush out there was thick and unforgiving. It was the reason very few lived in the secluded area and why I chose this place as mine.
"She's fucking fast," Tony mumbled when he was done with her hands.
"She ran track in high school and college," I said. "Go fix the damn windows."
Both men nodded and left the room. I should have never trusted her alone. I was too busy trying to gain her trust and too concerned about her not eating that I let that override my common sense. If she was anything like her brother, she was stubborn and wouldn't eat the food I handed her anyway. I underestimated her and the balls she had.
My name was one to be feared and respected in this city. Not many dared to stand against me, but this little girl wouldn't back down. I had spent months planning, watching, and getting ready for this moment. I wouldn't have all this unravel now, or ever.
I ran my thumb over a cut under her eye and Stella groaned. Her eyelids slowly fluttered open and soon she was looking up at me. She blinked, looking around the room. I saw the moment she remembered where she was and what happened.
"Let me die," she whispered. "Just let me bleed out. You owe me at least that much."
I pinched the bridge of my nose and shook my head. Stella was more of a headache than I had anticipated. This was supposed to be the easy part.
"You aren't going to die, Stella," I told her. "You're not bleeding enough. I don't owe it to you to let you die. I owe it to you to save your fucking life."
"I don't even know what that means," she mumbled, fading in and out of consciousness. "What do you want from me?"
I leaned over her and grabbed the sides of her face. Her skin was cool and still damp from the rain. I lightly smacked her cheek and her big blue eyes opened back up, locking onto mine.
"I need to know what you saw that night. The night your parents were killed."
Stella's eyes went wide and she shook her head, breaking out of my hold. "I didn't see anything. I don't know anything."
I could hear the fear in the slight tremor of her voice as she recited the practiced lie. It was something I would normally feed off of. When a predator sensed the fear in their prey, it was a sign that victory was within its grasp. I lived and thrived off fear and weakness, conditioned to recognize it. Stella's distress told me enough.
"I know you saw who did it. You may have lied to the cops and everyone else, but I know the truth. So, Little Star, tell me what you saw."
"No," she whispered. "I saw nothing."
Stella tried sitting up but I grabbed her hands and pulled them out from underneath her. She fell back to the bed and I pinned her wrists above her head, careful not to press too hard on any of the cuts. She struggled for a few seconds before I felt the rest of her energy drain from her.
"Please. Let me go," she pleaded.
"No can do," I said. "You think that if I didn't drug you and bring you here that you would have actually made it to California? You think that it was actually enough that you kept your mouth shut?"
"Kinda," she answered weakly.
"No, Stella. It wasn't, and if I hadn't gotten to you first, you would have met a very similar fate as your parents. I'm sure you know what that would be like."
Stella's hand broke free of my grip and her closed fist connected with my jaw. I quickly snatched up her wrist and gritted my teeth to keep from breaking her hand.
"Do you have a fucking death wish?" I growled.
"Obviously," she snapped back. She glared up at me with hate, anger and fire.
"Too fucking bad," I said, pulling her up and off the bed. "Trust me, it would be easier to just kill you."
Stella swayed slightly on her feet, and I could see that the movement hurt. Her clothes were still wet and her shirt was torn. She would feel like hell in the morning.
"Hands up and keep them up," I demanded. Just to be sure she listened, I grabbed the small blade I kept on my belt. Her eyes went wide but she raised her hands like I ordered.
I stepped closer, grabbing the shredded hem of the tank top, and slowly pulled it up and over her head. Stella's muscles went tense and I watched as goosebumps scattered on the skin exposed in the cool air. The shirt fell to the floor with a heavy thud. Stella glared at me as her nipples hardened. I clenched my jaw with anger when I noticed the ugly bruises and scrapes that marred her perfect skin.
"Stay put," I said, pointing the blade at her.
I walked backward to the closet and pulled out a long robe. I could make her strip and expose herself entirely to me. I could watch as she struggled with herself while trying to decide if she was terrified or intrigued. It would be so easy to make her anticipate my next move while she was naked and defenseless. Having control was mostly making others fear you.
"Put this on," I told her as I handed the thick robe to her.
Stella took it and quickly wrapped it around herself, tying the waist tightly.
"Thank you," she said quietly. I could hear that she was starting to shiver.
Using the knife to wave her over, I directed her over the en suite bathroom and unlocked the door for her. I let her walk in first and followed in closely behind. Stella stood in the center of the bathroom, looking unsure of what to do next. I pulled open the shower doors and started the water, making sure it was hot.
"There is nothing in here that you can use to hurt yourself or anyone else," I told her. "Shower and get warm. I'll be outside."
I left her standing in the bathroom and closed the door behind me. I waited until I could hear the change of the water stream from hitting her body before I put my knife away. In the closet, I found some warmer clothes that she could change into when she got out. The night was not supposed to end with me dressing the girl like a doll.
"Shit," I cursed, running my hands roughly through my hair.
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