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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/2128158-Poison
Rated: 18+ · Short Story · Adult · #2128158
"A woman wakes up in an unfamiliar surrounding.."
IVY (Present)

God, my head is throbbing. Where am I? Think, Think, Think. I squeeze my eyes tighter and listen out for sounds. I hear a beeping to my left, commotion that sounds like it's outside a closed door or the other side of a wall, and a man talking close to me but I can barely make out the words, there's a weird tickle in my nose almost cold like. Oh, it must be oxygen which means I'm in a hospital. Why would I be in a hospital though? Oh yeah, I was running from- Opening my eyes slowly, I grimace at the beaming ceiling lights that do nothing but aide the thunder in my head. Blinking away the wetness in my eyes that is blurring my vision further than the lights are, I realize I must of been crying. After getting some clarity I see I’m in a private room which is comforting. What’s not comforting is that there are two men in my room and I almost want to shut my eyes and pretend to be unconscious again but it's too late
“Oh she’s awake.” No, no I’m not awake. I sleep with my eyes open. Surprisingly the man doesn’t press further and for that I’m glad. Scanning the room I see there's one lonely window to my right and from the looks of it seems like the floor I’m on is pretty high up. I can only see the tops of buildings surrounded by a sea of light blue with clouds that look as though they have been painted on. Slightly to the left there is a door which I’m assuming is the bathroom seeing a whiteboard with the words
WELCOME
HOPE YOU FEEL BETTER
NURSE: Nina Lockhart

Moving down to below the bed there is a set of brown cabinets and an entertainment center with a TV right in the middle. There are some kids playing in a sandbox on it. But then my attention is drawn to the blonde haired man resting on the wall left of the TV. I try to calm my nerves until my eyes jump to the badge on his waist band. He’s a cop? There is no way. Maybe a cop reject who got a dishonorable discharge for beating a fellow officer. Yes, I did get that assumption from just looking at him. I know cops can dress normal when undercover but something tells me the T-shirt, jeans, and sneakers is what he wears all the time. Letting my eyes flicker back up to his face. He’s kind of handsome in a rugged sort of way. He has stubble all along his jawline and a eye patch over his right eye. The way his hair flows on his shoulders with the top pinned up you can tell he doesn’t ever do much to it. Without my consent, my gaze drifts down at his chest wide and poking from the cotton shirt that’s hugging him enough to make a woman jealous. In, out, in, out his breathing is almost, soothing? With a jerk of his neck he turns to me. I gasp. His left eye is icy blue, and screaming let me eat you or get the hell out of my way. Maybe a little both.
Beep Beep Beep

“You okay hun?” I turn to the brown haired man sitting to my left. He’s holding my hand, normally I would of withdrawn from any man who wasn’t Sir or someone Sir deemed worthy. I was too stunned seeing my left hand bandaged up. His eyes look full of concern. I manage a nod, still feeling the cold stare of the blue eyed stranger in the corner.
“Okay good, your blood pressure spiked a bit.” He says looking at the monitor. I almost think I hear the blonde man snort. My eyes go back to him as he pulls out a cigarette from his pocket and lights it.
“What the hell is wrong with you Alex! We’re in a hospital put that out!” The brown hair man yells. Alex? After taking a long drag followed by multiple small puffs of the cigarette, the cop who I assume is Alex blows the smoke the brown haired man's way.
“Fuck off, little prick.” The vibration in his growl is so low it sends a chill up my legs. I shudder. Wait, was that a slight British accent I caught whiff of? Alex taps the cigarette against the wall.
“Happy Supercop?” Placing the cigarette behind his ear. The brown hair cop sighs loudly.
“I am very sorry about my friend here. He can have a bit of a potty mouth sometimes.” His eyes cut to Alex who is now standing with his arms folded looking uninterested.
“I’m detective Marcus Dillion but you can call me Mark.” He extends his hand out but I don’t take it, he’s a lot smaller than the man he calls Alex. Short clean cut brown hair, brown eyes, and goatee that surrounds a pair of thin pink lips. He’s out of uniform as well but the black tee and the dog tags around his neck scream I’m-a-cop in disguise. Not bad looking, resembles the normal family man you would picture on a sitcom.
“And that charming asshole with one working eye is detective Alexander Noel.” Mark can barely contain his laughter.
“I’ll remember to look with my good eye when I’m blowing your mom's back out tonight Marky.” Alex retorts with a sinister sexy smile.
“You leave my mom out of this, Alex.” Mark was definitely a push over in school. I guarantee you that’s why he is a cop now. Another I-was-bullied-so-I-want-be-a-cop story. They fight like brothers. Alex being the cocky older brother who gets away with everything and Mark the little brother pansy who comes up with lines like
“I’m telling mom!” I almost giggle to myself. They definitely have the good cop, bad cop look. Mark brings me back to reality.
“So what’s your name little darlin?” With a smile on his face. I almost don’t want to believe it's genuine it's so huge. I go to open my mouth but no words come out. Should I really be talking to the cops? Of course I should be, that was exactly what I wanted. But looking at Alex he doesn’t look like a cop, not really anyway. He could be working for Nicholi. Fuck. Why didn’t I think about that sooner? He could already be here. But then again would I really be getting medical treatment if he were? No. Well maybe, he needs to keep his whores alive but not if they’re me. Lets just imagine they really are cops who aren’t on Nicholi’s payroll, I might not get another chance to get help. Reaching up with my right arm I pull the oxygen mask down off my face leaving it to dangle from my neck.
“H-how long have I been asleep?” I barely recognize my own voice.
“You’ve been out for about 5-6 hours. You were found in a pile of leaves on the side of the road on Route 57. Unconscious and have been until now. Can you tell me how you got there?” Mark briefs me, and I have no clue how I could of been on the side of the road. Think, When I was running away from the warehouse. What happened? Almost simultaneously a dog starts barking on TV and my chest feels tight, throwing me headfirst in a whirl of panic. I start screaming and kicking ignoring the pain in my side. Mark rushes and grabs my arms
“No please, don’t take me back! Please I’ll be good. I’ll give you anything Mark please! Kill me, I’d rather die than go back! I’ll even-” SMACK


ALEXANDER (Present)

You damn right I smacked her. Smacked the dog shit out of her -no pun intended-. She’s breathing heavy, hair damp from what looks like sweat maybe even tears. Looking at me stunned, I just shrug my shoulders. I noticed the needle marks in her arm since I walked in the room. Probably going though a withdrawal or a panic attack either way I hate being in the same room as people like her. All drugged up and sexed out. Damn shame too, she’s actually not too bad to look at. Once you get past the awful wet dog smell, the track marks on her arms, the unnatural red hair color, the busted lip, bandaged hand, bruised shoulder, and smeared makeup. Not to mention on her medical sheet two broken ribs, a sprained ankle, internal bruising and what looks like a branded N on her neck. I’ve seen some fucked up pimp and ho relationships but it looks like they were trying to kill her. And staring into her eyes right now, she’s not that timid little girl who just begged to have her life ended. No, after the sting from my slap, that red glow on her cheek is matching the blazing fire in her soul. That confirms they did try to kill her and now will wish God they had. I know that look all too well, because I have the same one. She could be the perfect little savage, with the right training. Too bad I don’t fuck with drug addicts. Marcus snaps me out of my staring contest with brown eyes.
“Are you kidding me! What the fuck Alex! You slapped the victim.” Jumping out of his seat but meeting my glare made him think better and sit back down. Good.
“The only victim here is her arm.” I point out, Marcus’s eyes jump to her arm as she moves quickly to cover it.
“How long have you been riding the train to funville Doll?” She keeps the intense stare on me until Marcus grabs her arm then her eyes leap from blazing to begging.
“Please you have to understand I’m not-”
“On drugs.” It comes out more like a statement then a question.
“Yes I swear, I've never-”
“Used drugs in my life. Listen when your blood test comes back positive and oh they are going to be positive for whatever your little train takes you. You won’t be able to deny it then.”
“Please..” I would like to see her begging like that while over my knee. No, I am not going apologize for that comment. Over my lap spanking her so damn hard, giving it to her exactly the way she needs it. Having a sprained ankle means she can’t run far, if run at all. Not like I would let her get away anyway. And with her broken ribs? Laying on her stomach would be agonizing for her. I damn near crack a smile. She bites her lip searching for the right words
“Yes you will find drugs in my system but it wasn't from me I swear! They drugged me!”
Tears smear more makeup off her face. In a sick twisted way I think she looks better like this. But then again I am sick and twisted. Cupping my mouth to hold back a full blown laugh. Mark, who is probably fed up with all my actions throws me a dirty look. Of course he’s ready to be back in good cop mode.
“Who drugged you? And what's with these tapes you were carrying.” See. Mark holds up a bag which look like to be old VHS tapes. Who the fuck still uses VHS? She frantically starts pointing
“Watch them it will prove I'm not lying. Me and all the other girls under Nicholi’s care! Every drug, rape, bruise and death is on those tapes. Please you have to believe me and watch them!” She full out bawling at this point. I roll my eyes but a small sliver of me actually feels some type of what? Pity for her? No fucking way. I just don't like watching people cry. Crying is for the weak.
“All right relax, breath, Shh, it's alright.” Marcus pulls her into his chest, rubbing her hair and calming her down. I gotta say as much as I start shit with Mark, he's a good guy. There is even a hint of jealousy in half the shit I say to him. Though I'll never admit it, cause, well, fuck that.
“Okay so this guy Nicholi? Is he the one that drugged you?” Marcus questions in a soft tone while lifting her head up.
“He did a lot more than that if he's the one who put that ‘N’ on her neck.” I hiss out. She immediately puts her head down in shame. Looking at it pisses me off. What? I am the bad guy, don’t mistake for one moment that I care. Because, well, I don’t but it still makes me mad seeing that huge ‘N’ on her neck. Not because I have a heart, I don’t. The heart is a useless organ. Whoever he is, he doesn’t know what to do with a pet like her. You discipline when needed, not just because you fucking feel like it. I’d make her into a trained killer. A beast that nobody would fuck with and everyone would want to fuck.
“Hey look at me, I need your name and then you can tell me everything I need to know to help you okay?” Marcus pleads but she remains silent, too silent for my liking.
“Look. At. Me.” I command, her head pops up as if it's synced to my voice , eyes filled with sadness, fear, anger and lust?
“What, is your name?” I ask in the same harsh tone. She licks her bottom lip and sits up straighter
“I'm Ivy.” Staring straight into my soul with that fire blazing I saw before. Call me crazy but I believe my non existing heart skipped a beat. What was that? Shit, butterflies? No, but I think my dick swelled a bit.


IVY (Present)
“I'm Ivy.” Half-truth but damn he's so captivating. This whole situation is fucked up. I should be angry with him; I shouldn’t want to go rush and kneel by his side. What is wrong with me? You know exactly what is wrong with you. You have the cigarette burns on the bottom of your feet to remind you. As if that wasn’t enough to prove Sirs power, the huge ‘N’ that Alex pointed out was. Closing my eyes, I try to shake off the thoughts. I am never going to live a normal life.
“Ivy. What a beautiful name.” My eyes fly open, if only Mark knew the horrors and the irony that came with the name.
“I wouldn’t say it’s beautiful but it is a name.” I retort. Alex turns his back to me and grips the window ledge hard. Digging his fingernails into the eggshell paint chipping it off. How did I piss him off? He’s lucky I even replied after putting his hands on me like that.
“Yes it is a name, but it's your name and THAT is what makes it beautiful. So Ms.Ivy can you tell me how you ended up on the side of the road?” What-? I keep forgetting Mark is here. Which is fucked up seeing as he’s obviously the only person here who cares or has common sense. Yet, I'm mad he keeps taking my mind off of Alex. I really should be grateful because he's just like them.
“I don’t know..” Yet again, half-truth.


TO BE CONTINUED
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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/2128158-Poison