Chapter 15

Zailah

My eyes fluttered open, and my confusion set in because I was in the lab. I must have missed a day. Dr Lawrence sat on a chair, looking into his microscope. I gasped when I realised my collar was off. Then everything came hurtling back at me—the illness, Shelton and passing out. My lips trembled as I wondered if he had raped me. If he had, I wouldn't be able to feel it because of my body’s ability to regenerate. My eyes widened when I saw Remus walk into the laboratory.

His expression was cruel, with his eyes disapproving or angry as he glanced at the Doctor. When he looked at me, he found me watching him. A faint smile tugged at the corner of his lips.

“You can leave now, Doctor,”

he said without looking at him. “Shelton will no longer be assisting you.”

His smile was still in place, but his eyes darkened, and I couldn't look away from them as he approached me. Standing over me, he inspected my face and peered into my eyes until I felt uncomfortable.

“You're looking much better,”

he said as he moved back.

I frowned as I realised that I did feel much better. The brain fog, my blinding headache and all the other symptoms were gone.

“I put you on an IV to flush the metal from your body. You absorbed too much of it,” he said.

I didn't feel gratitude towards him because he was the reason I was strapped to a table. I was of little consequence to him, nothing but a means to an end. There was movement behind him, but I couldn't see Dr Lawrence because Remus obstructed my view.

“I see that you’ve forgotten your manners,”

he said as he rubbed the dark stubble on his chin.

“Did he rape me?”

I asked flatly as I reminded myself that Remus Hawkins was not only the devil in charge of my hell but also the gatekeeper.

I flinched when he brought his hand close to my face, but instead, he touched my neck.

“Your neck burns have almost healed. No, he didn't rape you, and he won't touch you again because he’s dead,”

he said casually as he began to untie the straps on my hands.

“He’s dead,”

I echoed his words.

Remus’s smile widened. “He is extremely dead.”

I looked away from him with a frown because I felt nothing. I wasn't relieved or shocked, which unnerved me because it meant I was either losing myself or I’d already lost my humanity.

“Are you hungry?”

I shook my head because I no longer enjoyed food like I once did.

“You've lost weight,”

he said as he untied my feet.

My head snapped up, and I couldn't hide my contempt.

“Yeah, torturing and poisoning will do that to a person,”

I said sarcastically.

“Why don't you join me for dinner?”

he said, ignoring my remark.

“No, thank you. Just take me back to my cell,”

I said as I began to sit up.

“Hmm, and what makes you think you have a choice?”

“Why bother asking me then?”

“A valid point,”

he said as he took my wrist, pulled me off the table and began to drag me out of the lab.

It didn't matter when I tried to dig my heels in because he was much stronger than me. I looked around the old asylum. It had old-fashioned dark wooden panels throughout its creepy hallways. I wondered how old it was and how many people were tortured in this building.

He took me into the kitchen and dropped my wrist as I glanced at the worn-down commercial-sized kitchen. He was suddenly behind me, holding a stool in his hands. I eyed him suspiciously because he was being—nice.

“I can't have you dying on me,”

he said with one raised eyebrow arched up towards his hairline.

Yup, there was the bastard I’d been expecting.

I sat on the stool and watched him prepare the ingredients. He could have asked me to peel or chop the vegetables, but he silently worked on his own. I couldn't lie that I got a little excited when I realised he was making the same omelette he made the morning we left his house.

I sagged on the stool and looked down because I would still be an imprisoned lab rat. I thought of all the animals companies must use to test their products or experiment on them medically. It felt heartless now that I knew what they must go through. I quickly lost my appetite again, and the sense of hopelessness washed over me. It was the same feeling I’d had before I passed out earlier, and it made me think of my mum again.

“I've left some clothes in your room,”

he said, piercing past my morbid thoughts.

I didn't respond because having clothes might have deterred Shelton’s advances, but then again, creeps like him didn't need an excuse. After weeks of loneliness with only my pitiful brain for company, I analysed the current interaction with Remus, I suspected he wanted me to be grateful, but he was shit out of luck.

At this point, I didn't need to look up to know he was pissed at me.