Chapter 11 - Eleven
Suzy cracked her eyes open, a dull throbbing in her head was the first thing to greet her. Disoriented, she blinked, trying to focus on her surroundings. The room was dimly lit, furnished with a simple wooden bed, a rickety chair, and a small table cluttered with vials and a half-empty mug.
This was... an inn. A run-down, barely functional inn, but an inn nonetheless.
Relief washed over her, momentarily erasing the throbbing pain in her head. She was safe. Or at least, safer than she’d been in the clutches of the thief.
Tentatively, Suzy reached up and touched her neck. The area where the thief’s knife had pressed against her skin felt tender, but there was no obvious wound. Someone had taken care of her.
Panic clawed at her throat as she noticed something else. Her dress was gone. In its place, she wore a loose-fitting white shirt that hung loosely on her frame. Men’s clothing.
Panic clawed at her throat. Had Davis...? No, the very thought of him taking advantage of her unconsciousness filled her with a cold dread.
"Awake already?" A deep familiar voice broke the silence, startling her from her spiraling thoughts.
Looking towards the source of the voice, Suzy saw a tall, broad-shouldered man standing in the doorway. His imposing figure filled the small room, and for a fleeting moment, Suzy felt a flicker of fear. He was shirtless, his skin rippling with muscles, and a dark scowl etched itself onto his handsome face.
As he strode closer, his features came into focus. Suzy’s jaw clenched. It was him - the same man she’d met by the wall, the one with the pompous demeanor and self-important smirk.
"Pompous sissy?" the words tumbled out of her mouth before she could stop them, a knee-jerk reaction to the sudden intrusion. The memory of their first, less than pleasant encounter at the wall flooded back.
The man’s scowl deepened as he narrowed his eyes at her. "Excuse me?" he growled, his voice laced with a dangerous edge.