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“Do you honestly need me to answer that?” Valentine sneers, glancing at me through the mirror as he tugs roughly on the sleeve of his jacket.
I don’t say anything, which seems to satisfy him. I watch, half tucked in on myself as he walks back across the room. Pausing beside the bed, he clicks his tongue at me once in disapproval before pressing one finger into my hip to tip me over onto my side.
It’s an awful feeling, falling without the ability to react, let alone catch myself. The sort of feeling that makes your stomach drop and your heart fly into your throat.
At least now that I’m not crumpled in on myself, I can breathe a little easier.
“I’ll be back later tonight. Don’t disappoint me, Evelyn.”
5
Evelyn
“Don’t disappoint me, Evelyn,” I mouth to myself once I’m sure Valentine’s left me alone.
Still unable to move my body, I spend the next hour contemplating my life choices, and how I ended up in this predicament in the first place. And what did Valentine mean by saying not even Dante’s love would save me?
I try not to dwell on this thought too long, but it’s hard not to when part of me hopes there’s some truth to it. It would certainly make things a heck of a lot easier for me if I knew he loved me. At least then I’d be more certain that he actually plans to try and come rescue me …
If he’s still alive.
Crap.
I begin to spiral as I realize just how stupid my actions may have been. I’d walked out of a den of devils who may have genuinely been trying to protect me, and straight into Satan’s hands.
Stop it, Evelyn. Wallowing will get you nowhere. You can’t change the past, but you can use it to make better decisions going forward.
Yeah, like actually trying to behave long enough to be alive when I’m finally rescued.
I need to be more careful. Think more, act less.
And yes, I know I keep telling myself this, and then ignoring my own advice, but at least I’m self-aware of the fact.
My finger twitches, sending a rather unpleasant tingling sensation up my arm. A few minutes later several of my fingers do the same thing.
I let out a small sigh of relief. The paralysis is starting to wear off.
I almost didn’t dare to believe Valentine when he said it would.
Gradually, after several agonizing minutes of my whole body feeling like it’s covered in tingling static, I’m finally able to move freely again. I cautiously push myself up off the mattress, only to grimace at the sudden realization that I must have involuntarily relieved myself when my body went limp.
“I guess that’s why he told me to clean myself up,” I mutter to myself, my nose wrinkling at the realization.
Climbing off the bed, I make my way over to the bathroom door before stopping myself. As much as I want to bathe, I’d rather not end up waiting around for a fresh set of clothes naked.
Glancing around the room, my eyes catch on the black robe again.
I quickly move to snatch it off the back of the chair, but stop myself as soon as I remember Valentine’s earlier warning. Groaning inwardly, I turn and make my way into the bathroom, shutting the door tightly behind me.
At least there’s a door, I guess.
I turn around to look for the shower only to let out a sigh of exasperation.
Of course, he wouldn’t have a simple, straightforward shower.
The room is divided into an outer walk-around section, with what appears to be a shower cordoned off in the center of the room. An opening in the center of the tiled walls leads into the massive shower.
Poking my head inside, I find three more openings in the center of each of the other walls leading out of the room.
