I have no excuse for the wait on this chapter. I'd like to thank all of you who did not give up on me, even when I gave up on this, and all of you. 

Love you all more than you know, xx.

+++++

Chapter Ten

"You are calm and reposed

Let your beauty unfold

Pale white, like the skin stretched over your bones

Spring keeps you ever close

You are second-hand smoke

You are so fragile and thin, standing trial for your sins

Holding on to yourself the best you can"

— Brand New "The Boy Who Blocked His Own Shot

"Are you hungry? Would you like anything to drink? Anything for the pain, something to ease the discomfort?"

His tone was taunting, and his eyes still shone with cruel humor as he took in my disheveled appearance. I kept my lips pressed shut, my eyes conveying my hatred towards him as I sent him a glare that could make a grown man cry.

My wrists remained bound behind my back, retied after his men had roughly thrown me into a new chair, one that had been placed in front of a simple wooden, dining table. In fact, the entire room itself looked like it had come from a home decorating magazine.

"I'll take that as a no," Nick remarked, sending a wide smile my way. My insides churned in disgust as I took in his expression, revulsion pooling in the pit of my stomach as he leaned against the table, his body inching closer to my own.

"I heard you were giving Kate a tough time, but I must admit, I never expected to see you beating her into a bloody pulp." His tone was pressing, a sign that he was looking for a reaction from me. He wanted me to feel guilty, remorseful even for my attack against Kate.

Good try.

I didn't feel bad about my actions, in fact I was still furious. If I were placed back into that room with her, I wouldn't hesitate to go off on her again. Not only did she betray me, but also she left Mason for the dead.

Mason.

I couldn't bear to think of him. I couldn't let myself dwell on the idea that he was most likely dead, having suffered from the extreme blood loss.

He couldn't be dead.

But there had been so much blood. Too much blood. I couldn't imagine how he could have survived an attack as life threatening as that. And to think that it had been at the hands of the girl he had cared deeply for.

"Stop thinking about him and focus on yourself. How are you going to get out of this?"

My stomach gave another jolt as my father's voice entered my head, harshly reminding me of the situation I was in. I frowned, the physical and mental torment growing nearly unbearable as I allowed the floodgates to open up and fill me with agony.

"Something on your mind?" Nick asked, his eyes narrowing at me.

When I didn't respond, his demeanor slipped and his expression darkened. He let out a frustrated sigh before pulling himself off the desk. I watched as he slowly made his way around the table and over to where I sat, his eyes trained firmly on me as he did so. I felt my breath falter when he stopped directly behind me and crouched down, so that his head hung by mine.

"You should really learn how to respond when someone asks you a question," he whispered, his lips brushing against my ear, making me shiver.

My mouth was dry, and I felt my stomach heave, as though I was about to throw up. I was still covered in absolute filth, fresh blood coating a significant portion of my body, its dark texture starkly contrasting my pale, sallow looking skin. I held my breath as his fingertips grazed my arms, trailing downwards until he stopped above my left wrist.

"My, my, you really did a number on your thumb, Evie dear," he remarked, his voice light as he observed the broken bone. "Thumbs are one of the worst bones to break, in my opinion."

Silence.

"Does it hurt, Evie, does it hurt as much as people say is does?"

I kept my mouth shut, an action, or lack there of, that I soon found myself regretting.

A guttural scream exited my lips as soon as Nick came into contact with the injury. The pressure he applied to it made my vision blacken as the screams and cries of misery escaped my trembling lips, making my eyes burn as tears built up behind them. His action had surprised me, and the shock left me unable to mask the excruciating pain that radiated up my arm and throbbed within my head.

I writhed in the chair, my body convulsing while Nick silently watched the pain he inflicted upon me. After a few more terrorizing seconds, he started to lessen the pressure, until it had disappeared completely. The throbbing pain continued to shoot through my arm, leaving me a whimpering mess, my eyes screwed shut as to hold in the onslaught of tears that threatened to escape them.

"When I ask you a question, you respond. Do you understand?" He asked after my whimpers subsided.

My eyes remained shut and I kept my mouth closed, preventing myself from responding.

As soon as I felt his hand trail back down to my wrist, a cry left my lips.

"Yes!" I spat out, forcing my eyes open. "Yes, I understand."

He was still standing behind me, so my only option was to stare forwards and sit in anticipation of what he would do next.

Another strangled yelp let my lips when I found myself being forcefully lifted up and turned around, so that I was facing him. Before I could process my sudden change in position, I was shoved backwards so that my back was pressed firmly against the hard wooden table, my arms pinned at an unnatural angle underneath my body.

"You're just as difficult as I expected you'd be, but I guess reality is always different from expectations." His voice was low, his eyes calculating. They trailed over my face, inspecting each feature, though I was willing to bet that my blood had stained most of them.

"You need to shower." He finally said, his nose scrunching in disgust before the sickening amusement returned back to his eyes. "Just think of how nice that would feel: a nice, warm shower. You'd be able to get all that dirt, blood, and filth off of yourself."

I bit my lip, holding in the cries from the sharp pains that shot through my body from the position I was in. I wasn't sure if he expected a response, so the growing fear in my stomach only grew worse as time passed.

"But I can't imagine that would be easy to do, especially with that thumb, not to mention your bloody wounds," his eyes moved down to the patch of blood that had soaked through my shirt and continued to grow, his features twisting slightly when he noticed the stains on his own shirt.

"How long have you been bleeding like that?" He questioned, his tone rough.

I gulped, hesitating for a moment. "I, I'm not sure. The stitches popped when I—"

"When you brutally attacked your best friend? Somehow I'm not surprised." He cut me off, a smirk on his lips.

She is not my best friend. I wanted to scream those words out, the anger bubbling within me as I pictured her standing above me with the gun, while Mason spluttered for air.

I remained silent, watching him with great discomfort while concern briefly flickered through his expression. My eyes zeroed in on this, but the emotion had passed through his eyes so quickly that I doubted whether or not I had actually seen something.

"You've lost a lot of blood," he observed. "Do you feel light headed? Weak?"

I couldn't help but bark out a sarcastic laugh. "And you care, because?"

His expression narrowed before he leaned down, his face inches above mine, further pressing my body into the hard wooden surface.

"Contrary to what you may believe, I'm trying to keep you alive." He snapped out, his tone full of annoyance.

I held my breath and attempted to prevent myself from squirming any more, not wanting to further upset him.

"At least long enough until Sebastian can come and try to rescue you, because then I'll be the one to put a bullet between your eyes while Sebastian watches helplessly."

I stared at him with wide eyes before I recovered, anger fueling my being as I glowered at him.

"So that's it? You're just going to kill me in front of Sebastian? That's your big plan?" My tone was biting, mocking even, something that made Nick grit his teeth together angrily while he glared down at me.

"And what makes you think I would just tell you everything? I am not obliged to reveal what I have in store for you, Evie, so don't you dare mock me because I will make it so much worse."

I threw him a furious glare, watching as he smirked back in response. The burden on my chest was lifted both figuratively and literally when he slowly removed his body from mine, allowing me the chance to gulp down the proper amount of air I had been withholding from myself.

"Do you want to shower?" He asked, his tone emotionless.

I nodded quickly, a soft 'yes' leaving my lips in fear that he wouldn't accept a non-verbal response. He pulled my body into a standing position, holding me in place as I struggled to stand with the ropes that held my legs and arms in place. His face remained neutral, a harsh contrast to mine as he pulled out a switchblade from his jacket.

An involuntary whimper left my lips when he leaned forwards, making me stumble back in response, nearly collapsing onto the table if it wasn't for Nick's grip on my arm. I sucked in my breath when he steadied me, giving me a stern look, before crouching down to the ropes around my legs.

I let out a shaky sigh of relief as he cut the ropes loose; yet my stomach dropped once more when he stood up, his expression noticeably darker.

Do something!

I mentally debated whether or not I should try to make a break for it. My legs were still numb and stiff, covered in bruises and cuts.

"Don't even think about it," he hissed out, taking a step forwards so that his body thrusted onto mine. He used one leg to separate mine, effectively immobilizing them while pushing me back into the table so that the edge dug into my lower back.

I felt the breath leave my lungs again when the blade disappeared behind my back, and his chest pushed into mine. I bit my lip as he sliced through the rope while keeping his eyes locked on mine, never once breaking eye contact.

"Listen," he growled out once my wrists were free. "I know you may have been some badass, tough girl before, but I can assure you that you aren't anymore. You really fucked yourself over by not eating, because you are now significantly weaker than me—not that you ever really stood a chance. Do exactly as I say and no further harm will come to you—"

"Until Sebastian comes and you kill me." I cut him off, my tone dejected and empty rather than sarcastic and biting.

Nick looked surprised by my tone before he recovered and gave me a lethal glare.

"Don't you dare cut me off again, unless you want me to break your other thumb."

I stayed silent in response, too scared to risk my other thumb.

"Good girl," he mocked, the same sinister amusement lighting up his eyes. "Now, how about we go upstairs and get you cleaned up, and then I can show you exactly how things are going to go from here on out. Okay?"

Silence.

A pained gasp broke through my lips when he roughly squeezed my side, his expression frustrated.

"Okay, okay!" I snapped. I felt disgusted by his hands on my body.

"Don't make me hurt you," he snapped, "I can make your life a living hell."

I kept my mouth shut in response, and obediently allowed him to slowly lift me from the table, so that I was once again on my feet.

"Follow me, and don't you dare try to run." He said firmly.

I nodded, a lump in my throat growing, making it difficult for me to breathe. The nauseous feeling in the pit of my stomach was fighting to make an appearance, and I felt myself grow light and dizzy as soon as he started moving. My legs barely moved forwards when I tried to follow, the pain shooting throughout my entire body as though I was being shot all over again.

How much blood had I really lost?

"I can't," I choked out before my body pitched forwards. Nick barely had enough time to turn around and catch me before I slammed into the floor, his arms digging into the bruises that scattered my stomach and back. I let out another wail of pain as a tearing sensation ripped through my stomach, heat flaring over my body as a hot, sticky substance soaked my clothes at a sickening rate.

I'm bleeding out.

"You're going to die."

This isn't fair; this isn't how I should go.

"Then fight. Fight to survive."

But I couldn't. I couldn't move and I couldn't stop the bleeding. I was completely useless. The only thing I could do was scream out in pain as Nick barked orders at the men who rushed into the room.

I'm going to die; I'm going to die.

"Shut up," Nick snapped at me, gently lowering my body onto the floor. "You are not going to die."

I am dying.

I didn't react when he pulled out his knife, effectively cutting through my shirt and removing the fabric from my body. My skirt had been pushed up from my fall, and I felt the cold air hit my skin, leaving me cold and exposed. My chest heaved and my body convulsed, prompting Nick to lift my upper body and turn my head just in time for me vomit the burning acid that fought to escape my stomach.

"You're panicking," Nick whispered into my ear, "Your body is shutting down and you're becoming hysterical."

I couldn't calm down though. The pain was invading every cell of my being, paralyzing me completely. I could hear Nick speaking to the men around us, taking the first aid kit from one of them before looking down at me. He pressed a large amount of gauze onto my stomach, tying it down so that he could compress the wound and slow the bleeding.

"Can you wrap your arms around my neck?" He asked, his voice quiet.

You have to.

"Yes," I choked out, tears burning my eyes but surprisingly refusing to fall.

Nick nodded and lifted me from the ground, waiting for me to loosely wrap my arms around his neck. Once I did, he began slowly making his way up the stairs, leaving the rest of the men standing in the room unsure of what to do.

"You're going to be okay."

No I won't.

"You're going to have to be."

I will.

But the last think I saw before we made it to the top of the stairs was a puddle of blood on the ground, my blood.

And suddenly, I wasn't too sure if I was going to survive this.

+++++

"Jesus Christ."

Nick's face was pale, his brows furrowed, his eyes darting about. He looked downright terrified, which offered no reassurance to me as I lay on the tiled floor of the bathroom. I could see my blood smeared across the white floor, staining the once clean, pure surface.

"Don't you have a doctor?" I questioned weakly, my eyes barely open as I struggled to stay conscious. "I thought every gang had a doctor."

He gave me a hard look; yet there was no anger in it, only firmness. "He's busy today. He only had enough time to fix up your stomach the first time, which he clearly didn't do a very good job of."

I managed a feeble shrug, a smile rising to my lips. "I think there's a rule that says you shouldn't attack backstabbing bitches after getting stitches."

Nick's eyes widened, and slowly a smile formed on his lips and a light chuckle escaped him.

"I think I've heard of that one before."

"Oh well, I've never been one to follow rules."

Nick smiled more at that, before his eyes focused on the wound. I watched as he pulled out a suture kit, piles of gauze, and disinfectant.

"There's nothing here to numb you," he muttered, digging through the bag, his expression vexed.

"I can handle it," I forced out. "I'm Evelyn Summers after all."

There was something new in his eyes when he looked at me; perhaps it was awe, maybe wonderment at my sudden change in demeanor.

"Good, you're doing well, keep it up."

"This is going to hurt a lot," he warned me as he set up the suture needle after thoroughly cleaning the blood from my stomach. I bit my lip to hold in the cry when he used his free hand to hold my skin together, pinching the skin roughly.

"Pain is a good friend of mine." I finally choked out, my eyes watering as he punctured my skin with the needle.

Nick paused at this, his eyes searching mine deeply making me shift uncomfortably. I could practically hear the waves of thoughts crashing about in his head, distracting him as he tried to sew my skin back together.

"I heard that talking helps distract from the pain," he finally said, his eyes flickering to mine.

I don't want to fucking talk.

"You don't have a fucking choice."

"Alright, let's try that then." I hissed out, my eyes screwing shut. My skin burned everywhere his eyes trailed over, and I could feel the warming sensation on my face as I attempted to succumb to the darkness.

"You're a smart girl," he started out slowly, "I know you know about Nate."

"I do."

"So you know that I know about your little suicide attempt."

I hesitated.

Did Kate not tell him the truth? Had she withheld that information? Or was he implying that he knew the truth behind it all?

"Nate was scared out of his mind," Nick said when I remained silent. "He thought you were going to kill yourself before I could ever get you. You want to hear the best part? He was more concerned that you would die over the fact that his family would be killed if you died."

My eyes flew open at that.

"Family?" My voice was barely audible, but I knew Nick had heard me.

"Oh yeah, didn't you know? Little Nate is no orphan. He has a cute, quaint family living out in the countryside. They were quite hard to find, but I did it. I found them."

"You don't know what a family is, Evie, you've never had one!"

Kate's voice rang out in my head, and I nearly flinched back when I heard it. She hadn't been lying, Nick was using people as pawns to get exactly what he wanted; not just any people though, people who had absolutely no control over the situation they had been thrust into.

Innocent people.

That's probably what disgusted me the most. Growing up in a gang, surrounded by terrible people, I was used to others being used and abused, mainly because they weren't good people and they often deserved it, but not these people.

This was wrong; this was wrong on so many levels.

"You're proud of that?" I spat out, my tone making his hand freeze above the last stitch. "You're proud of being a downright fucking coward?"

"I'm literally holding you on a thread right now, are you sure that's how you want to talk to me?" Nick challenged, tugging the needle slightly to emphasize his point. I clenched my jaw at the sharp flash of pain his action caused, and refused to meet his eyes as I stared at the ceiling blankly.

"What did I tell you about answering my questions?" Nick questioned, leaning he face down to mine.

I continued to refuse to both answer and look at him, which evidently upset him, for only a minute later did he forcefully grasp my face to turn it to his, making me meet his eyes.

"Do not make me repeat myself, I swear to god, Evie I will do just about everything someone can do to another person without killing them." His threat made me want to scream and lash out.

I felt murderous. My hands ached by my sides, and it wasn't the effect from my broken thumb or the abuse my body had underwent. I felt the undeniable urge to inflict pain upon Nick, and to not stop until his chest would no longer rise and his heart would cease to beat.

I felt downright murderous.

"And there I thought we were having a nice moment." His eyes had regained their sick amusement, his words jeering at me. He torn me away from my dark fantasy, reminding me that I was in no position to attack, much less murder the man.

"You know, respect isn't just given away, it's a two way street." I snapped, "I can't respect you until you respect me."

Nick leaned back his head and let out a hearty laugh, his eyes shutting as the deep laugh echoed throughout the bathroom. Once he settled down, he had to wipe the tears that had formed at the corners of his eyes; his face flushed a deep red.

"Why do you have it set in your head that we are equals?" He finally asked after composing himself. "Why do you think I am under some kind of obligation to respect you? You are not my equal, Evie Summers, you are nothing but a pawn in my game. Collateral damage if you will. Whatever importance you think you have, it's nonexistent."

He paused, his eyes sweeping over me before continuing, "You may have had power and rank before, but it is time you learn your place here. You are nothing. You have not even a drop of power, and for you to think you have the right to speak back to me, to disobey me—that's just something I'll have to beat out of you I guess."

I glared up at him, fighting to hold in the discomfort I felt.

"You don't act like a girl who tried to kill herself."

His tone wasn't questioning, it was calculated. It was as though he had found the answer to an equation, and that was the result.

He wasn't even attempting to imply that I had had ulterior motives, he was stating that I had.

"You're not the only manipulative sociopath here," I finally spoke, my voice void of emotion as I stared at him coldly. I allowed my anger and disgust to show, only to mask it with indifference. There was no use trying to get around him by tricking him; all the cards were out on the table.

Nick merely only threw his head back and laughed again. It wasn't a warm laugh, and it hardly had a sliver of amusement in it. It was empty, forced, and felt like a slap across my face.

"Oh Evie," he said, his eyes conveying a look of cruel pity, "You wish you were a sociopath. You wish you couldn't feel anything. But you do. You feel everything, and stop me if I'm wrong, but I'm willing to bet you feel everything so much more than anyone could ever guess. That is your problem. You feel. You care."

From my position on the ground, the flares of pain shooting across my body, and the way he hovered above me, I couldn't help but remain completely and utterly silent.

There was truth behind his words and it scared me to the point of torturous pain.

When I was fourteen, I allowed myself to crack one day. I allowed myself to truly feel the emotions Nick spoke of, and then I expressed them. A boy in my class called me a worthless, cheap whore after I came to school with makeup from the night before stained on my face and bruises on my neck from where I was brutally grabbed.

I was young.

I was inexperienced.

And it hurt. Holy shit, his words hurt.

My dad was working on me, training me for the real jobs; however his method of training derived strictly from experience. He sent my fourteen year old self blindly into a loud, crowded warehouse where a drug filled rave was taking place.

I never stood a chance.

I remember backing away from the boy before a sob broke through my lips. I remember watching him smirk and taunt me harshly as I cried, my hands tugging my hair and wrapping around my body in a feeble attempt to hold myself together.

He told his friends about what happened, and it wasn't long before the entire school had heard.

His smirk had seared itself in my mind, branding me with a painful reminder of what happened when I showed feelings.

Two days, seven broken bones, and one black eye later, I was the one smirking.

The rumors of me being "weak," "pathetic," "worthless," all disappeared, and were soon replaced by the understanding that I was not one to be messed with.

"I'm done."

I jolted at his voice and glanced down at my stomach, my eyebrows inching up in surprise when I saw he had finished stitching my stomach. A white bandaged had been secured over the wound, cover by a plastic looking material to help isolate it.

He remained above me, his eyes burning into mine when I built up the strength to look up at him. I held his stare, ignoring the flood of emotions that I was drowning in.

"Are you going to let me up so I can clean myself off or are we just going to stay like this?" My voice was unwavering, which served as a small victory for me, as I felt like my voice was going to crack under the pressure of everything.

My words seemed to snap Nick back into reality, and he stood up quickly. He cast a glance down at me as I struggled to stand; yet I managed to do so without asking for help, help that I was nearly positive I wouldn't receive.

The second I was upright, I felt as through I was crashing down. My head became light instantly, and nausea clutched me in its unrelenting grip, causing me to squeeze my eyes shut as my body leaned forwards.

"I need to wash you off." Nick stated, refusing to acknowledge my state. "There's no way you're getting into bed with all that blood on you."

I couldn't resist myself and let out a bitter, biting laugh. I straightened up slightly, ignoring the black spots that invaded my vision when I pried my eyes open.

"God forbid the fucking sheets get blood on them, right? That's where you draw the line, huh?"

Nick only smirked back in response, reminding me of the boy back when I was fourteen.

"You just wait until tomorrow when you are less likely to die, because I am going to push you until you are at the brink of death and then we will see who will be laughing then."

His words were full of promise. He wasn't threatening me, he was telling me.

I felt my heart drop and stomach sink. I hadn't believed he wasn't going to hurt me; yet part of me had hope.

"You and your fucking hope."

I flinched back at the sound of his voice, an action that didn't go unnoticed by Nick. Rather than question it, he merely advanced upon me so that he was standing directly in front of me, his hands gripping my upper arms in a firm manner.

I didn't say a word as he guided me into the shower. I kept my expression empty as his eyes dug into mine, hoping to find some kind of emotion to use against me.

But I remained indifferent.

I remained silent.

I allowed him to turn on the water and move me under the stream. I held in the gasp I desperately wanted to release as my body was pelted with icy drops of water, numbing me completely. I held in the scream when the water suddenly turned scorching, making me feel everything.

I remained unresponsive even when the water shut off, my body still coated in blood and filth.

"When the water was cold, it made you numb." Nick stated, unbothered by the fact that his clothes had been sprayed and nearly soaked. "When the water was hot, you felt everything."

"You're problem is that you're an extremist. You either feel nothing at all, or everything at once."

He had been progressively inching closer to me until his chest was brushing against mine, the feeling making me want to cower back and scrub his touch off of me until my skin was rubbed raw.

"The trick is to find a medium."

My lips parted slightly as water hit my back again. This time it was a luke warm, staying true to Nick's words.

"How prophetic," I managed to bite out as I resisted the shivers that threatened to rack my body. They weren't from the temperature of the shower, they were a result of the complete and utter discomfort that I felt.

I felt my chest tighten as his hands found the zipper of my skirt, tugging it down until the material was pooled at my feet.

I felt vulnerable standing in front of him in only my bra and underwear, both becoming soaked by the water.

I bit my lip as he raised my left arm, examining my thumb before gently placing it back at my side. I didn't dare move an inch as he retrieved a bar of soap, wetting it in the water before bringing it to my shoulders.

I remained nearly lifeless in front of him, for there was a hurricane of conflict taking place within me.

"So you're just going to be his little puppet now?"

"Spread your legs." Nick said as he crouched to the ground.

"You're used to hearing that from guys."

This is too much.

I was overwhelmed and I was in pain.

I was hurt.

"Evie," Nick said, his eyes trained on mine.

Hearing my name made me snap.

"No," my voice was soft and I moved to take a step back.

Nick looked up at me in confusion. "I need to clean your cuts."

"Let him touch you, they all do."

"No!" My voice was increasing in volume as the panic grew in my chest. I wasn't sure what was making me feel this way, or why I was feeling this way, but I was scared.

I was terrified.

Nick stood as I backed away, a look of surprise mixed with annoyance on his face. I watched in horror as his eyes lit up sadistically, and he began to remove his clothing.

My back hit the tiled wall, and suddenly I was suffocating.

He was standing before me in nothing but his boxers, and I could practically hear my father slut shaming me even more.

"Stay away from me," I croaked out.

My voice was weak.

My body was weak.

I was weak.

"Why?" He questioned almost playfully, completely oblivious to my state of sheer panic. "I get that you're my hostage and all, but I'm sure we can have some fun."

Fun.

"You would like that, wouldn't you?"

"Shut up." I choked out, squeezing my eyes shut as my body shivered from the lack of warm water.

"Excuse me?" Nick hissed out, unaware that I was speaking to the voices inside my head rather than him.

"I thought you were stronger than this. I thought I had raised you better. But you are, as you always be, a massive disappointment."

"Shut up," I mumbled again, "Shut up, shut up, shut up!"

I heard Nick say something faintly, but I was too engrossed with my internal conversation to pick up on his words, until I felt hands roughly grip my shoulders and slam me in the wall, making my entire world tilt for a few seconds.

"Pathetic."

"Stop it!" I shrieked. Even though my eyes were now opened and trained on Nick, I couldn't help but scream back at my father, praying desperately that he would stop and leave me alone.

Something in my eyes must have indicated that I was, and had not been, talking to Nick.

"Evie? Evie!" Nick's hands were now tightening over my arms, his smirk and any traces of cruel amusement now gone.

Sobs suddenly burst through my lips, causing me to convulse as my chest heaved and wails filled the shower.

I am not okay. I am not okay. I couldn't deny it any longer. The truth was displayed on a blaring sign that flashed in front of my eyes.

I was mentally and emotionally unwell.

Nick looked shocked before a look of annoyance leaked into his expression.

"Are you seriously crying?"

I was.

"Jesus fucking Christ."

I couldn't stop.

Tears continued to stream down my face as the water shut off and my body was roughly removed from the shower, a hand harshly tugging on my arm. My eyes had instinctively squeezed shut; effectively shielding me from the malicious glare Nick was most likely sending my way.

His hand released my arm once I was standing on the tiled, bathroom floor; yet I remained in place, unable to move.

I flinched as a towel was wrapped around my body carelessly. I could feel his presence hovering over me, observing my fragile state. My breaths were uneven and there was a lump in my throat. I felt a weight growing heavier on my forehead, making me feel exhausted and drained.

"You're so young," he murmured, his mouth brushing against my ear and causing me to jump. My eyelids fluttered, threatening to crack open, but I forced myself to keep them shut.

I couldn't bear to see his mocking, sadistic smirk.

"Change into this when you're done with your breakdown." I heard a soft thump, indicating that he had dropped whatever articles of clothing he had gathered onto the ground.

I waited until I heard the door shut, and then I slowly peeled them open, cautiously glancing throughout the room in fear he may pop out from nowhere.

I stared down at the large black t-shirt and underwear he had dropped onto the floor, grimacing at the thought of such little clothing. Water was still dripping slowly down my body, the towel hardly doing its job. I ignored the protests my body made as I reached down and picked up the clothes, gritting my teeth as I successfully changed into them.

Pain was flaring up over my body, and there was a growing ache in my head every time I opened my eyes. I glanced at the mirror for a moment, an audible gasp leaving my lips as I stared at my reflection.

Everything was bruised or cut up. I was sickened by the sight of myself. My eyes were lifeless, and the blue in them looked like a dead gray. My skin was almost translucent, and I could feel my stomach jolt at the sight of my prominent veins.

The dried tears on my face made me almost scream.

"Are you ready?"

My eyes focused on the opened door, Nick's smirk sending sharp pains into my stomach. I frowned as his eyes trailed my body, pausing at my bare, bruised thighs before he lifted up a black, makeshift cast.

My eyes dropped down to my left arm, taking in the deformed shape of my thumb. I hadn't even remembered that I had broken my thumb. A bitter smile rose to my lips. Breaking your thumb was supposed to be one of the most painful things that could happen to a person; yet there I stood, staring at my deformed mess having completely forgotten about it in the first place.

I flinched when he appeared directly in front of me, his hand lifting my arm to place it into the cast. A hiss of discomfort left my lips as he angled my thumb to fit the cast. Nick only hummed in approval after tightening the cast, and then ushered me out of the bathroom, his eyes burning holes into my skin.

"You're going to be staying in here for now." He announced as he stopped in front of a blank, barren room.

I hesitated, glancing around before smiling

Nick, much like the boy when I was fourteen, made me break. He hurt me and he made me cry.

Now it was my turn to make him cry.

+++++

Third Person

The doctor shifted nervously on her feet. Her white coat was stiff, and she felt restricted wearing it. She knew she shouldn't be feeling the build of anxiety that was growing within the pit of her stomach, but it seemed inevitable.

"You are Elizabeth James," she muttered to herself, "you graduated in the top ten in medical school, you have received many job offers, and you are one of the best."

So why, why on earth did she feel like a fucking ragdoll in the presence of a few rough looking men?

"Perhaps it is because they are members of London's notorious gang," she hissed out loud. Her cheeks tinted a light pink as she caught herself speaking to herself again, a terrible habit that she had been unable to break ever since she was a child.

She glanced through the small, circular window on the door, wincing when she saw the four boys, correction, men, standing impatiently in the hallway. The tallest one, who happened to look the most intimidating and well, the most murderous, was pacing back and forth, his jaw clenching and unclenching, his fists following a similar pattern.

Elizabeth adjusted her coat, frowning as it moved stiffly against her body. With a deep breath, she quickly looked over the papers in her arms, internally summarizing all the information she was soon going to spill out.

Be calm. You are one of the best. There is no reason to be afraid.

With her hand firmly pressed against the cold metal door, she pushed her way into the hallway, focusing solely on remaining calm as she met the men she had been taught to fear.

"Hello, my name is Dr. Elizabeth James. I have some information on your," she hesitated, her mind scrambling for the proper word, "friend, Mason Walker."

+++++

Evie stared at the door, occasionally glancing over at the large man who had been assigned to watch her, and was now lounging in a chair, mindlessly surfing through the channels on the television.

For the last two days, she had been locked away in the room that Nick placed her in the first night. She had spent the time trying to physically recover from the physical turmoil that she had endured; however, those two days were without food, leaving her weaker than ever while she struggled to recuperate.

In that time however, there was a shift in Evie. She could feel it and unlike the other times, she knew this one was real. She could feel it bubbling inside of her, growing, becoming stronger with every hour that passed, and taking over her entire being.

On the third day, she woke up to a glass of water, some painkillers, and a thin piece of toast, with a note that told her she was free to wander around the house.

Evie knew she wasn't actually free, so she wasn't that surprised when she found herself sitting with the large man in the living room, unable to do anything else.

She had attempted to start a conversation with the man, but he merely gave her an uninterested look before proceeding to ignore her prodding questions. She had even gone as far to through a rather rough cushion at him from the couch she was sitting at, but it fell short, landing a foot away from him and causing him to snort in amusement.

She could tell he was significantly bigger than her, but that did not necessarily mean he was faster. If anything, she believed his size would slow him down.

"Is there anything to eat?" She called out, looking pointedly at him.

She frowned as he ignored her, and let out a huff of air in annoyance. Her hand was still being restricted within the cast it was in, and her gun shot wound had just begun to heal, an effort that she knew was going to require a lot of time and patience, both of which she did not have. She could feel the hunger gnawing at her stomach, demanding that she ate at once.

Why the hell did I starve myself before? Not only was Evie annoyed at her situation, but also she felt a deep frustration towards herself, and the actions she had chosen. She glanced at the door again and frowned, knowing she would get nowhere when her health was the way that is was. Instead, she stood up and marched, as well as she could have given her state, to the kitchen. She smirked slightly when the giant rose from the chair, his beady eyes narrowing on her as she opened cabinets and searched for food. Like she had expected, he was slow on his feet, and that realization fueled the flicker of hope within her.

Evie opened the fridge after finding nothing appetizing in the cabinets, and smiled in delight when her eyes fell onto the packet of stringed cheese.

It seemed even a killer likes to enjoy cheese sticks.

She opened the package and began eating it slowly, aware of the hunger that urged her to consume everything in sight. She had noticed that the giant was now sitting again, obviously finding her quest for nourishment unexciting.

After finishing the cheese stick, she thoughtlessly opened and closed the drawers that surrounded the kitchen, feigning interest as the giant continued to stare at the television. She was nearly convinced that she could have just walked straight out the door, until she heard him speak.

"A knife will be no use to you. I have a gun." His voice was gruff, and fitted his physical being. Her eyes drifted to the silver gun that he dangled off his pointer finger, and with a sigh, she loudly dropped the knife back into the drawer. Her annoyance grew when he laughed, not even bothering to glance back at her. It was evident that he wasn't afraid of her, and after the hysterical fits she had been having in front of everyone, she wasn't sure why anyone would be.

My pills. Evie cursed angrily in her head as she remembered for the first time in days, perhaps over a week, her anxiety medication.

"Where is Nick?" She finally called out, pushing away the thoughts of her medication. "Where is everybody?"

Silence.

"Hello?" Her voice was taking on an obnoxious tone, one she often used when she wasn't getting her way. "I am bored, okay? I need something to do. You cannot honestly expect me to just sit here all day."

"On the contrary," Evie's stomach tightened as she whirled around, "I can."

Nick stood in the doorway, a smirk settled on his features as he observed her disheveled state. Evie hadn't bothered to fix her hair when she woke up this morning, and now that it was the early afternoon, she felt no use in attempting to fix the way she looked.

"Nick." She said evenly. "I am bored."

Amusement danced in his eyes and he gave a small nod in response. "So I've heard."

Evie used steady breaths to maintain her calm demeanor, and in response, she stared blankly at Nick as though she was waiting for his solution to her problems. He seemed to have sensed what she was waiting for because he glanced outside, his eyes turning up towards the blue sky, before he looked back at her.

"Let's go for a walk." He finally suggested, although it seemed more like a statement, a decision that he already made.

"I don't have shoes." Evie said, her tone clipped as she regarded the baggy black t-shirt that she wore over a pair of underwear. She was hardly in the right attire to do anything, and that was just another thing to add to the list of things that annoyed the absolute hell out of her.

"We will be staying within the estate, darling. I'm sure your delicate feet will be able to handle the grass path I intend to walk with you."

Evie forced an expression of indifference onto her face before nodding and walking over to him, ignoring the way the bandage on her stomach shifted and sent shocks of discomfort throughout her body. She held her breath as Nick stared at her for a few seconds, his eyes piercing her own, searching for something.

But Evie remained impassive, and Nick remained without an explanation.

He concluded that she was playing one of her pathetic games, where she acts completely uncaring. He almost laughed out loud at the idea of this game she played, knowing fully well that at the end of the day, she would be in tears, hysterical, and back to the Evelyn Summers that had developed over the years—a pathetic crybaby who had no control of her emotions.

As amusing as he found her attempts to fool him, he could not deny the utter disappointment he felt when he discovered the true Evelyn. She was not the girl people claimed her to be, in fact, he could hardly put together why people bothered to fear her at all.

She was manipulative, yes. That was a dangerous talent she had, her ability to trick paired with her need to taunt. She was a fantastic baiter, but she was too emotionally invested. He imagined her to be brutal and cruel. Not broken and tearful.

When Nick looked at her, he felt disappointment. He had planned to use her, to turn her against those closest to her, and use her as a weapon of mass destruction for himself. She was supposed to be his—his dangerous, emotionless murderer.

Nick tore himself away from his thoughts as he led the shoeless Evie towards the path that circled the house, dipping into the woods nearby here and there. He gave her a sidelong glance, noting how her eyes became a shockingly crystal blue whenever she turned her face towards the sun.

"I hope you had a nice day," Nick began casually, "I was feeling generous and thought you deserved a treat after everything."

"Treat?" She questioned, one of her eyebrows rising to convey her confusion.

Nick smiled and gestured around them, "I could have left you locked away in that room, which is a very nice room if I may add. In fact, I could have left you a bloody mess in the basement, but no."

"Well aren't you a kind man."

On any other day, the sarcasm and venom that dripped off that phrase would have been harsh; however, Evie said it in a blank tone, conveying not even the slightest bit of distaste towards Nick.

But Nick reminded himself that he was far too smart for her. He knew her tricks and he knew this game.

Keep playing, Evie, let's see how far you get. He wanted to openly taunt her, but he was curious to see how she would go about this.

He hummed in response to her, and remained silent until they had ducked into the forest.

Evie focused on the trees around her, noting how everything looked so peaceful. She could feel the bubbling inside of her, crying out to be released.

"I never intended to kill you." Nick murmured. His eyes trailed over her face, and he reached out and grasped her wrist, pulling her to a stop and forcing her to turn and face him as he spoke. "The idea you came up with, that I was using you to lure out Sebastian just to kill you in front of him? That may be what I have to resort to, but I'll have you know I never thought of killing you."

"So what changed your mind?" Evie asked, her eyes now boring into his.

Nick held back a shiver as he stared into her lifeless eyes. He couldn't help but question the change he was seeing in Evie. Her demeanor had completely shifted into something he could not quite describe.

You're paranoid. Nick shook his head to clear his thoughts, and forced himself to stare back into her empty orbs.

"I met you. And you're not as strong as I thought you were, as people described you as."

He watched her closely, expecting to see a flurry of anger and hurt to dance across her features. But instead she merely nodded thoughtfully.

"Naturally," she agreed. "You are only as strong as your weakest link."

Nick lost it. Her monotone voice, her bare expression, her emptiness, it was all too much for him. He prided himself on his ability to ride out any challenge he faced, but something about Evie set him off.

So he hit her.

His fist connected with her jaw, sending her body flying to the mossy ground. Evie managed to catch herself on a tree, the bark digging into her palm and causing blood to rush to the surface of her skin and stain it.

"There is no fucking way you have just magically switched off your emotions overnight Evelyn Summers," Nick snarled, his hand grasping her hair and pulling her up to face him.

He expected to see her expression twist with pain, if not already be riddled with it. He had not held back when he hit her, and he was struggling to recover from the shock he felt when she did not collapse.

But her expression was blank as blood flowed freely from her nose. Nick's stomach lurched as her lips drew back and she smiled a crazed, maniacal smile. The sight of her blood stained teeth made Nick release her and shove her away from him.

"Think I'm weak?" Her voice was dark and it came out in a sickeningly calm manner.

Up until this point, Nick had never been scared of Evie. When she had punched him in the face, he was pissed. When she threatened him, he was amused.

But now, not even he could deny the inkling of fear that he felt as he stared at Evie.

"Nick," she whispered, making him take a step back.

"Evie." He forced himself to say, his stomach twisting.

He watched as her expression went from blank, to downright malicious. The sudden appearance of a cruel glint in her eye made his flinch back.

"Don't fucking hit me."

Nick barely had time to process her words before she flung herself at him. He felt her fist connect with his face, his stomach, and his rib cage. She was not as strong as she could have been, but she still managed to inflict a decent amount of damage onto him.

You're stronger than her, Nick reminded himself. So how come he was struggling against her?

"Mark!" Nick bellowed out, blindly trying to force Evie away from him, snarling as her nails dragged across his face. He could barely see as her limbs lashed out against him, striking every vulnerable surface she could come into contact with.

And suddenly it stopped.

Nick's vision finally cleared and he now saw Evie being held back by Mark, his large body constraining her's effortlessly. But that hardly seemed necessary.

Evie wasn't struggling in the slightest. In fact, she was completely still. If it weren't for the slight rise and fall of her chest, Nick would have thought she was frozen.

"You're faster than I thought." Evie's voice broke the silence.

Mark's expression was just as blank as her's, his eyes directed towards Nick as he awaited his instructions.

Evie's eyes met Nick's and she offered a smirk void of any real emotion. "It seems as though I have not been the only one to underestimate someone today."

+++++

It had been three days since Elizabeth had spoken to the Kings. Three days since the Sebastian King asked her to promise to do everything in her power to make sure Mason would be okay. Three days since she had been able to sleep properly.

Sebastian hadn't necessarily threatened her. To anyone observing their interaction, they would have seen a concerned friend hoping to ensure the survival of a friend. But Elizabeth did not mistake the message his tone conveyed.

As long as Mason lives, you live.

Elizabeth observed the vitals that were displayed on the screen, fighting to maintain an impassive expression as she jotted down notes. She could feel his stare piercing the side of her head, and as much as she hated to admit it, it made her skin crawl and her stomach churn.

A mere stare held so much power over her.

"Your vitals are up." She finally said, her voice shaking slightly.

The blank blue eyes that met hers made her inhale sharply. And people said that he was supposed to be the "nice" one of the group. The silence that followed wasn't something that Elizabeth found unfamiliar. Mason hadn't spoken to her once, and it wasn't until she walked in on him talking quietly with Danny Summers that she realized he wasn't a mute.

She gave a slight nod, and shifted her gaze towards the papers in her arms.

"A nurse will be here later to change your bandage." Her lips parted momentarily, and she wondered if she should try harder. She had become a doctor because she wanted to offer patients the care and attention that her mother did not receive during her final stages of life. It was a vow she had made and kept; yet with this patient she could not bring herself to fulfill it. 

With one look into his eyes and she knew her attempt would be futile. She pursed her lips, offered a weak smile, and turned on her heel and left.

As she rounded the corner, she ran her hand through her tangled hair and struggled to tie it up into a bun. She dropped her papers onto the desk at the nurses station, and let out a tired sigh before looking over to the door she had just exited. 

Elizabeth James could only hope that tomorrow would be a better day.

+++++

Evie's POV

The doctor had been meticulous, carefully fixing the stitches I had popped in my attack against Nick.

I now sat on a chair in an empty room. I hadn't been tied up, but I did not feel the need to move around. I knew the door would be locked, so there was nothing else to do other than sit. I was dressed in a loose gray t-shirt that hung a few inches above my knees.

I felt bare, but I enjoyed the exposure. A smirk rose to my lips.

I felt great.

The door opened and Nick entered, followed by the giant, Mark, and another man who looked as though he could have been the giant's twin.

"Oh you brought friends," my tone was light and I felt a sadistic smirk dance across my lips.

Nick's eyes narrowed, and I wiped the evil expression off of my face, leaving him with nothing to work with. His brow furrowed in surprise and confusion, and I watched as anger flashed through his eyes.

"Tell me why I shouldn't kill you." Nick attempted to conceal his anger, but his voice shook and his hands were already clenched tightly.

I tilted my head to the side, feigning innocence. Then I sprung to my feet, narrowly avoiding the arms of the two giants, both of which were scrambling for me. I watched as Nick ordered them to stop, his eyes focused on me as I moved around the room, my eyes never leaving his.

"I can give you three reasons, Mr. Harmon." I sang out, my eyes dancing with actually touch him.

"Reason number one," I turned to Nick, "it wouldn't be very polite if you killed me."

No one smiled.

I shrugged.

"Reason number two," my feet quietly carried me over to the second giant, and I offered him a charming smile, "I'm far too pretty to die so young."

Nick let out at a growl and I let the smile drop from my face. I felt the darkness cloud my features, and I felt the brutal expression settle.

"Fine Nick," I spat out sourly, "you don't like reasons one and two? What about reason number three?"

I stood directly in front of him and placed my uninjured hand on his shoulder.

"You need me, to get Sebastian. Collateral damage and all that. And if you kill me, Sebastian won't come here. It won't happen the way you want it to. You won't be able to kill me in front of him, you won't be able to see his heart break as you end my life, and all because you already killed me."

I had been walking in slow circles around him, my fingertip tracing his shoulder blades and chest as I stalked. I felt like a predator and he was my prey.

I felt powerful.

"What do you think of reason three? Do you like that one?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

"So this is her." Nick finally spoke. "This is the Evelyn Summers that was crafted by her psychotic father, the one that people fear?"

His tone was taunting. He wanted me to react and break down, to prove that there was something underneath the mask.

"Unfortunately, reason three only holds as long as Sebastian loves me. I mean like really loves me." I added thoughtfully, ignoring his questions completely. "Because if he doesn't, well, everything goes straight to hell. He won't come, and you won't win. I'll still be alive, that is, if you choose to keep me alive. But I suppose at that point you could just kill me then, and carry on with whatever else you do."

Nick moved quickly.

One minute I was standing behind him, whispering into his ear, the next, I was pressed up against the wall with Nick's body effectively caging me in.

The brief shock passed within milliseconds, and a giggle left my lips.

"Is this the infamous Evelyn Summers?" Nick bit out, his patience evidently wearing thin.

My amusement dropped, and my expression was wiped clean. I angled my body closer to his, and managed to bring my hand up to his face and gently cup it.

"Silly Nick." I whispered, my mouth inches from his. I moved so that my mouth now hovered above his ear, my body flush against his.

"There is no Evelyn Summers."

I slipped out from his hold and released a laugh that was unlike any noise I had ever made.

"I am merely just a figment of your imagination," I declared, tapping the side of his head before he slapped my hand away. "I can be anyone you want me to be. Because at the end of the day, I am everyone, and I am no one. I am the sad girl who just got her heart broken for the first time. I am the whore who only needs a few shots until she gets in bed with you."

My expression shifted from amused to lethal in a matter of seconds.

"Tell me who you want me to be, and I'll be her."

My eyes were locked on Nick, and although I didn't look away from him, I could tell my little performance had shaken the two giants. Nick, on the other hand, had paled drastically, but he managed to maintain a blank expression.

"All you can do now is hope that Sebastian loves me, whoever that may be." I threw in a wink with the last part that I had added on a whim.

"If he doesn't?" Nick asked, a slight waver in his voice that did not go undetected.

"You're fucked." 

Nick hesitated momentarily. "And if he does?" 

A smirk rose to my lips and I dropped my body into the chair, not bothering to adjust my shirt as it rose to expose more skin.

"Then he'll be here."

The silence that followed excited me. This entire interaction had excited me in fact. I could feel the electricity running through my body, igniting me.

"You seem sure."

"Riddle me this, Mr. Harmon," I sang out softly. My body slid into a horizontal position on the chair, my legs hanging lazily off one side while I propped my upper body up with one arm and  folded the other over the back of the chair, my hand mindlessly playing with my hair.

I spoke my next words slowly and clearly, void of any emotion. 

"What is a King without his Queen?"

+++++

His voice was gone. My dad's voice was gone. In allowing myself to submerge into the madness my life that created, I had finally become sane.

I felt free.

I felt alive.

Evelyn Summers was back.

+++++

I just don't even know if this is an acceptable chapter but I truly and wholeheartedly hope you all like it.

For all those who have stuck with me, thank you. I cannot begin to tell you what that means to me.

Love you all to the moon and back.

xx