The bodyguard

Chapter 15 (Remastered)

{FAIR WARNING: This chapter contains themes that many might find disturbing, reader's discretion is advised}

Darkness.

Pure darkness, accompanied by the deep throbbing of my forehead.

"Wake up!" A voice yelled. The loud voice got sucked into my ear and bounced around inside my head repeatedly hitting the part that hurts the most. I tried to reach for my head but my hands were restrained and wouldn't budge. My whole body was sore and achning but the only thing that hurt more was the empty pit in my stomach.

"I SAID WAKE UP!" The voice yelled again, only this time louder.

*SMACK!*

My head jerked upwards. "I didn't want to have to do that but you wouldn't wake up," the voice said. My eyes quickly flashed open and the figure of a large man standing over me became more clearly visible. I quickly turned my head to look around but that made my head throb even harder. "Agh! Where am I?" I asked. I was at the head of a bed with my hands cuffed to the frame. Sinclair slowly sat down at my side and reached for my face, touching the cheek that he hit. "Oh Jane, you still look as beautiful as I remember," He complimented.

I turned my face away from his touch.

"What do you want from me? And what did you do to my mom?" I asked. Sinclair turned away from him though I just knew that he was smiling. "Just the usual," He responded. My heart rose up my throat and nearly flew out of my mouth. I could feel tears welling up in my eyes. "No," I whined. Sinclair turned back to me and placed one of his hands on my legs. I Didn't notice before, but he had a bruise under his left eye and a part of his lip was busted.
I pushed my feelings aside and tried to figure out how to get out of here.

I looked around the room trying to see if I could get out of it. I was in a bedroom, that was poorly decorated kind of like a run-down motel but I knew for sure that it was a house, too many permanent decorations for it to be a motel or even an apartment. Walls with paint stripped of them and mold and mildew lining the corners are the walls. The air is somewhat thick and filled with bacteria. My stomach growled.

"Sinclair, where am I?" I asked. "You're home," He answered as he retracted his hand and stood up. "Where are you going?" I asked, he released a sigh and walked towards the door. "I have to prepare our dinner," He said before he opened the door and closed it. But before he walked away I could hear him locking the door from the outside.

I looked up at my hands that were cuffed to the frame and tried to get some kind of slack, but the metal frame was not going to budge anytime soon.

Sinclair stayed gone for a few hours, leaving me on this slightly damp bed in a room with no windows to let in natural lighting.

Soon the sound of the door being unlocked from the outside could be heard before it slowly swung open. Sinclair walked in pushing a cart in front of him, with a bowl on it. Due to him being gone for so long I'd grown tired of staring at the wall and waiting for him to come back, as much as I hate the way it sounds, I had no choice but to wait for him to come back.
"Wakey-wakey, I brought you something," he said in a cheery tune as he stopped the cart beside the bed.

"What is it?" I asked, Sinclair took the top off of the bowl and revealed a large bowl of soup. "My soup that you used to love," He responded with a creepy smile and an excited look in his eyes. I looked up at my hands and then back at him, "How am I gonna eat?" I asked dryly. Sinclair picked up a spoon and dug into the soup with it before bringing it up to his mouth and blowing on it. "I'll feed you silly," he answered.