BONNIE
All Bonnie wanted was to take a nice hot shower. But she couldn’t. Not with her head injury and both men reminding her it had to be lukewarm to cold.
It absolutely sucked.
While she was feeling clean, she wasn’t feeling fully clean. Bonnie couldn’t unless she was able to take a hot shower. Which wasn’t going to happen with Rogan so close. He was currently standing in the bathroom, making sure she didn’t make it any hotter.
It was honestly cold water, or it felt cold to her. Rogan probably did it on purpose to torture her just a bit more.
Bonnie tilted her head back to wash out the conditioner in her hair. Yes, conditioner. She honestly didn’t think they were going to have much in this bathroom, but there was everything. It was weird and obviously not for the people who were being tortured in here.
“You almost done?” Rogan asked.
She lifted her head too fast. Feeling woozy, she grabbed onto the wall. More like smacked her hand against the wall to steady herself before she fell over.
“Alright, out you come,” Rogan said. “You’ve been in there long enough and I don’t need you passing out and hitting your head again.”
She sighed and ran her hands through her hair one more time. Thankfully she’d managed to get all of the conditioner out before he told her it was time to get out.
“Here’s a towel,” he said as he stuck his arm into the shower.
Bonnie let out a little squeak and grabbed it. She didn’t want him to see her naked. Though, the thought of him looking at her turned her on, but also embarrassed her. Rogan had already seen part of her since Miguel ripped her shirt and bra, but this was different. The blood had covered her then, almost like a layer of protection.
“Come on,” Rogan said. “I don’t have all day.”
She let out a sigh, wrapping the towel around her and stepping out of the shower. Rogan’s back was facing her and she relaxed a little.
“Do…” She took a deep breath. “Do you have something for my hair? Something I can wrap it up in?”
Rogan turned around and looked over her body. Curses flew out of his lips, shocking her. Why was he cursing?
“Shouldn’t have happened,” Rogan said. “Shouldn’t have fucking happened.”
She gave him a puzzled look. What shouldn’t have happened?
“Miguel was never supposed to hurt you. No one was supposed to come down to the basement at all,” Rogan said. “We don’t hurt innocent women.”
So, he thought she was innocent. That was good. Maybe he would let her go now before he found out who her brother was. It sounded like a good idea, but she didn’t know how to broach the subject.
“Another towel?” she whispered, and regretted it immediately.
He shook his head. “Get dressed.” Rogan threw several things at her. Most of them hit the floor since she wasn’t expecting him to throw clothes at her.
She bent down, groaning as the tiny cuts and aching muscles protested and screamed at her. Tears blurred her vision as she set them down on the toilet seat. Rogan was still looking at her and she didn’t know what to do. Bonnie didn’t want to dry off and change in front of him.
“Cou-” She stopped herself. He wasn’t going to pay attention to her request. If he wasn’t going to give her an extra towel for her hair, he wasn’t going to turn around because she didn’t want him staring at her.
“Ask the damn question,” he barked out.
She looked at him and blinked several times, trying to stop herself from crying even more. Bonnie was at her wit’s end right now. She was absolutely exhausted, hurting, and just feeling like shit.
“Stop fucking crying,” Rogan said for what felt like the hundredth time. “You’re always crying. It’s a sign of weakness and you need to stop.”
She sucked in a deep breath and closed her eyes. Maybe if she kept her eyes closed, he wouldn’t see her tears and wouldn’t get mad at her.
“Now, ask your question,” he said. “Come on. I have places to be and things to do.”
“Could you turn around?” she whispered. Bonnie should have just told him it was nothing and moved on. But for some reason she asked. She opened her eyes and looked at him. She’d a feeling he was going to say no. But to her surprise, he turned around. “Hurry the fuck up.”
Bonnie moved as quickly as she could, which wasn’t very fast.
Everything hurt as she dried herself off and pulled the clothes on.
“Why do you cry so fucking much?” he questioned.
She didn’t know if he wanted her to actually answer or if it was a rhetorical question. So she stayed silent.
“I asked you a question, I expect an answer.”
“I’m a sensitive person,” she softly replied. “Always have been and always will be.”
“Next time you cry, there will be consequences,” Rogan warned. “And stop fucking telling me things like that.”
She stopped what she was doing and stared at him. He asked her a question and she didn’t want to lie. He was getting onto her for answering his questions truthfully? She didn’t understand him and didn’t think she ever would.
Bonnie didn’t think this was how he was supposed to act. Why did he care so much about her showing weakness and telling him things when he asked questions? It made no sense.
“Everything you’ve told me about yourself, I could use against you. How you cry a lot and are a sensitive person. How you would do anything to not be put in the dark because you’re scared of it.” Rogan listed off the information he had on her.
“I thought you said you didn’t hurt innocent women,” she whispered before she could stop herself.
Bonnie had already finished dressing and was just standing there. She didn’t think he knew she was done, and that was fine with her. She didn’t want to go back into the room.
“I haven’t decided if you’re a threat or not,” he said, turning around.
For some reason it brought tears to her eyes. She wanted him to see her as non-threatening. Bonnie wanted him to see her as someone who he could trust and let go.
“Come on,” he said, gripping her arm. It was the one and only place she didn’t have any cuts, but there were bruises.
Bonnie hissed and jerked her arm back but he tightened his grip. She let out a whimper and the tears spilled from her eyes and down her cheek. Rogan started to walk back to the room where she’d been locked up. Was he going to put her back in the chair or was he going to let her roam around free?
“Back in the chair,” he said. “I’m going to put the cuffs back on you.”
She didn’t pay attention to how the room was clean and didn’t smell like blood and vomit anymore. His words stunned her too much.
“Please,” she begged. “I don’t need to be put back in the chair. I promise I won’t do anything.”
But her pleas fell on deaf ears. He continued to drag her toward the now-clean chair and she started to sob.
“You’re going back in the chair, and I will put the handcuffs on,” Rogan repeated as he gently pushed her onto the seat.
Bonnie whimpered and tried to stand, but he held his hand on her chest, stopping her from moving. She groaned in frustration as she tried to get away from his hold but he was too strong.
“I can stand here for the next twenty minutes and hold you down until you grow too weak and tired to fight. Or you can save your energy, be a good girl, and let me put them back on,” Rogan said. “If you’re a good girl, I’ll only cuff your hands.”
She didn’t want to be bound at all, but only having her hands bound was better than everything. Then, at least she would be able to move her legs and kick if anyone else got too close to her.
“Okay,” she said as she cried. Bonnie settled down in the chair, getting comfortable before he started to cuff her. “Why? Why can’t I just be down here and not cuffed to the chair?”
“I don’t trust you yet,” he replied. “Simple as that. I’ve got stuff I need to do, and I can’t worry about you hurting yourself or getting into trouble.”