The Devil (BOOK I + II)

17 | "You're A Psychopath"

Chapter Seventeen
   "You're a Psychopath"

"her damaged petals are what made her
more beautiful than al the other flowers,"
~ a.j. lawless

┏━━━━━━━┓

   The first thing I noticed when I regained consciousness was the crick in my neck.

   I felt my face scrunching in pain, and I squeezed my eyes tighter before slowly twisting my head around. I did this until some of the pain diminished, but like always, as one problem disappeared, another one entered.

   Even though I was still in my sweatpants and sweater, it was evident that I was laying on the floor. It was cold and hard—like concrete.

   I tried moving my stiff muscles, and it was then that everything froze.

   My wrists were chained together behind me.

   Memories swarmed my thoughts, and I remembered my last few moments of consciousness. Sleeping with Daemon. Getting an SOS text from Rolie. Going downstairs, only to be blocked by Angelo. Getting knocked out by...

   My throat was tightening, and it was then I felt my head pound. I lifted it off the cold ground slightly, but all my muscles felt weak.

   "What the hell?" I grumbled under my breath.

   I managed to use my elbows to help me sit up as best I could. Although my eyes were still blurry, I was able to have an idea where I was.

   There was a set of concrete stairs leading upstairs on the far-right corner, and I figured I was in a basement. There were four halls on all corners of the square room I was currently in, but all of them seemed to have closed doors, so I couldn't look inside.

   Besides that, I was lucky there were two overhead windows behind me, because it gave some sort of light in the dim room that had no furniture. Though, from the reflection of the light across from me, I could see there were bars on the windows.

   Angelo. The Italians. I fucking knew it.

   Some of my nerves were being replaced with scorching, hot anger when I heard a heavy metal door scrap open from the top of the stairs.

   The screeching made me clench my jaw as I shuffled back, just enough so I could lean against the freezing wall. The shackles around my wrists clinked together and I froze.

   "Someone's up," a teasing voice said, followed by heavy, slow footfalls coming down the stairs.

   My back flattened against the wall—well, as much as I could. It was difficult when your hands were tightened behind you, and you were still wearing off from the drugs. 

   Drugged by someone I knew. Someone I cared for.

   Finally exposed, I looked up and drilled my drooping eyes to Angelo, who was busy smiling as he casually strolled down the last few stairs. "Morning, Alina."

   "Fuck you."

   If he was mad, he didn't show it. "How'd you sleep?" He didn't give me time to answer before stalking forward, close enough for me to see his features clearly, but not enough for me to reach him. "You know, I didn't want you here. But precautions until there's an agreement. I'm sure you'll understand."