Chatper 137

Olivia I try to do as he asks and get onto my knees before forcing myself to stand, but I fall again, hitting my head against the wall.

Jasper rushes inside the bathroom. “I said help her wash, not kill her,” he says as he steps inside the shower. “What the f**k!?

This is freezing.”

Tyson shrugs. “I thought cold water was good for people with a fever.”

Jasper mutters something under his breath as he takes me out of the shower and has me sit on the toilet. My shirt is soaked and cold, and it clings to me like a second skin, and I wrap my arms around myself.

“She is going to die sooner or later; I don’t see the point in dragging out the inevitable,” says Tyson.

Me either.

Jasper goes to check the temperature of the water. “You already know why.”

“If you think that by f**king her and posting videos of her and her nasty p**sy all over social media, we will finally be able to take down Senator Deymar, you are delusional. That man doesn’t give a f**k about her. He will even deny she is his daughter.”

Tyson is not wrong about my father, although he might get a heart attack if his career as a politician is ruined.

“You think that didn’t cross my mind? We will have Cirro look into the evidence once he is done with that job for the Elders,” says Jasper.

What evidence?

Except for my birth certificate, there is little proof of me living with my parents while growing up. There had been a handful of times when I was allowed to be part of the family photos, and I am sure my mother had thrown them out already as she always hated the color of my hair. ‘Red is for whores,’ she used to say, although my hair is auburn, it was the same thing for her. Guess she was right in the end, I am a wh ore.

“Whatever. Like I said last night, I don’t want any part in this sh it,” Tyson says and leaves.

Jasper lets out a loud sigh before returning to me. “Do you need to use the toilet?”

I shake my head. He removes his clothes, then mine.

“Don’t mind Tyson. He always gets like this when he is editing one of his books,” he says as he takes me to the shower.

The water is warm enough to stop me from shaking.

Jasper is gentle as he cleans my hair.

I want to ask him why he is pretending to be nice to me, but men don’t like it when women are noisy, so I keep quiet Olivia and let my mind wander. I hate when I am forced to think or to feel, and I miss the numbness provided by drugs.

He takes my right hand in his and looks at my wrist. “No matter how hard you try, you will never be free of us.”

“I only wanted to find some drugs.”

“We are not into that sh it, and as I mentioned before, you are never going to take drugs again.”

“Why?” I whisper. “I am not harming anyone.”

“Rueben wants you to be clean and look healthy in the sex video we are going to make.”

“I can use makeup,” I suggest, letting him know I am willing to take part in their absurd plan of taking down my father. It’s not like I have any other option.

Jasper grabs my hip. “But you will still look like a living corpse. I don’t want the Dukes to think we are only feeding you on Mondays and Fridays.”

“You think the Dukes care about how I look? All they care about is f**king me.”

“If a Duke were right here, right now, he would see you only as a s*x s lave, and he would not ca re what happens to you, but once you are healthy and radiant, looking absolutely smitten with us, every single Duke in town will want to possess you completely and to anchor their angels to you.”

“No one wants me. I am damaged goods. A look at my scars and it is enough for anyone to know what I am.”

Jasper grabs my chin and forces me to look into his eyes. “Do you know what kintsugi is?” I shake my head. “It’s an old Japanese art of repairing broken pottery with gold.” Tracing a scar I have below my belly button, he adds, “Your scars, once healed, will glow.”

“No amount of gold will fix me.”

Jasper keeps talking, “When we film you being railed by us, making you scream our names, those watching the videos will know you are our woman.”

I frown. “Why is it important to make everyone believe I am your woman? You can always f**k me and show it to the world.”

“True. But the effect won’t be the same.” Probably noticing I am still confused, he adds, “You will understand soon.”

When I am clean and dried, Jasper takes me back to the room. Clean sheets and a new blanket are on the bed.

“I am sorry for getting it dirty,” I say.

“You are good,” he says as he puts me on top of the bed, then goes to the closet and takes a t-shirt from inside. “I flipped the mattress upside down,” he lets me know as he dresses me. “Lie down.”

Lying on my back feels like needles are stuck in my a ss, but I do as I am told. When he tries to restrain me again, I say, “Please, I will go absolutely in sane if I have to spend more time tied to the bed.”

214 Olivia “Just until you are free of drugs.” But I don’t want to be free of drugs! Not that it matters what I want. It never does. “I will return in a few minutes with your breakfast and some meds for the fever.”

“I am not hungry,” I mumble.

“Food is non-negotiable,” Jasper says before leaving me alone.

I close my eyes and try to sleep because I feel like I have been hit by a train. With a bit of luck, Jasper will forget about me.

Besides, even if I want to eat, I don’t think I can stomach anything. Everything...just hurts.

I start to cough, and my throat feels so dry. Water would be nice but do I dare ask for it?

It takes a few minutes before the cough finally stops.

My chest hurts even worse.

The room keeps spinning and spinning. It feels more like I am on a boat in the middle of the ocean during a storm.

I close my eyes.

The door opens, and someone enters.

I pretend to be asleep.

“Mose finally took pity on me and made something without spice-bacon and eggs.” Jasper’s voice reaches my ears. Why does he keep telling me random stuff I don’t care about? “Also, Merry Christmas.”

I cr ack open my eyes. I didn’t even realize it was Christmas. The last time I celebrated it was wi th Camila and her family. I miss her so much, each passing second is an agony without her. “Merry Christmas to you too,” I whisper, while I don’t feel ‘merry’ at all. In fact, I rarely feel anything anymore. It’s better this way, as I no longer want to deal with sentiments.

Jasper puts a tray with food and medicine on it on the bedside table. “Mose made chicken soup and some orange juice for you,”

he says as he frees my hands.

“Water is more than fine,” I say before I cough some more.

“You need nutrients.”

Drugs are what I need.

He helps me sit on the bed and puts the bowl of soup on my lap.

“Eat!” he orders me.

“I will probably throw up everything in just a few minutes,” I sigh before I eat a spoonful of the soup.

It’s sp icy like hell, and I cough so hard Jasper takes the soup away from me before I knock the bowl o ut of my lap and gives me juice. I gulp down half of it before I lie down and he takes the glass away from me.

10:42 Wed, Feb Olivia “I have a low tolerance for spi cy food,” I say.

“I will let Mose know.”

My gaze goes to him, and his brown eyes stare back at me. Looking away, I say, “There is no need. Besides, Reuben will kill me soon anyway.”

“Maybe,” Jasper says as he reaches to grab the tube of ointment from the tray, “or we will keep you here at the farm to be our little plaything...” he looks at me, our gaze locking, “forever.”

His tone is serious, making me shiver in fear because I have been Carlos’ plaything for a long time, and I don’t want to experience that again.

“Turn to the side so that I can put some ointment on your wounds,” he instructs me.

I obey, and he takes his time applying ointment to every scratch I have, even the one on the soles of my feet that I got while running through the forest.

After he gives me some medicine for the fever, he binds my wrist again, picks up the tray, and stands. “I will return with food you can eat.”

Before I can say he doesn’t need to bother, he is out the door, leaving me alone.

The medicine makes me sleepy, and before long, I nod off. I still feel like I am being rocked by a boat, and all kinds of sounds-

from babies crying to wolves howling in the night-scream in my ears.

A lone tear escapes the corner of my eye as I relive one of the worst days of my life.