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Z/JACK'S POV
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My head hurt so much.
The stench of dry blood on my body assaulted my nostrils for hours without an end. The man seemed to mock me.
The hatred in his eyes was sickening.

"She's mine. Everything is mine," he had declared victoriously as he beat the daylight out of me.
Why did he hate me so much yet we had never met before? Or did we have enmity in my forgotten past?

I drew some air through my open mouth to soothe the fire in my lungs.
From my analysis, I had a few broken ribs, a dislocated wrist, and a stab wound. My scar was bleeding from the man's brutal blows, adding more blood to the mess on my skin.

Unlike the woman, Annie, the so-called Jack had beaten me up like I was nothing more than a punch bag, or even of less value.
He had more than just hate in his eyes. There was an eerie darkness residing in those blue eyes.
It left me wondering how the little girl had fallen for such a man. He didn't seem to possess a fraction of love for her. But what would I know about love, I wasn't sure I had ever loved anyone before.

I opened my eyes after what felt like an eternity of drowning in the thick pain exploding in every part of my body.

A sliver of bright moonlight was flowing into the cell through the small square window above me. It illuminated the door, showing me the escape route, yet didn't offer any help on how to free myself from the chains.

Other than the wounds and pain, the cold wind enveloping my naked upper half added more torment to my weak body.
There was no way I could loosen the shackles unless I broke my fingers to squeeze them through. But with my deflated energy, even a trivial thing as breathing felt like a hassle to me.

Is this how I was going to die?
So miserable.
They didn't even offer me a chance to stand up for myself.

And, why was WSG not sending a rescue team?
Most importantly, why had they sent me into the enemy's territory without proper instructions or a solid plan?

My thoughts were momentarily disrupted by the noise of a heavy door being opened.
A light silence followed, pushing me to the edge of my senses.
My eyes suddenly sharpened, staring hard at the door a few meters from me for whoever may show up.

They finally got to the door. Fumbled around with their keys till they unlocked my door.
The heavy door was pushed in, giving way to possibly more enemies here to torture me.
I held my breath and squeezed my fists as hard as I could even though it was pointless.

"Bring him to the other cell." A feminine voice instructed. It sounded like... Annie.

My heart produced a beat of relief, an occurrence that left me dumbfounded. Why would I react so? She was still an enemy.

"Yes Boss."

Two men hurried in, their footsteps light and soundless.
They quickly unlocked the shackles and caught my body before I crumbled on the floor, before tucking my arms under theirs to help me walk out of the cell.

Step by step, they led me into a different cell. This one had a bed and the light was on. My gaze fell on the small woman standing next to the bed with a square red box in her hands. It looked like an aid kit.

"Lay him down," she directed stepping aside.

The men obeyed her every word and put me down as gently as they could. But I couldn't help it, a groan of pain escaped my lips as my hand went down to press the stab wound.
"Go out and keep watch."

"Sure!" They replied and then left the room like a pair of ghosts without a sound.

I waited in the silence left behind between us. But she said nothing, only opened the kit and laid out the items inside. The smell of antiseptic reigned in the air as she started preparing everything.
"How deep is the wound?" She asked, her tone, flat and emotionless.

"About an inch," I answered.

Since she had come to treat my wounds, I could as well let her. Whatever they planned to do with me in the future, I would find a way to escape first.

She began by soaking a cloth in the basin of water on the floor which I had missed. Without any gentleness, Annie ran the wet cloth over my skin, wiping away the blood. It took her about two minutes to get rid of the dry blood.
All that while, she said nothing, just glared at me whenever our eyes met.

She looked so fierce.
The anger in her eyes could not be hidden from me.

"What has he done?" I asked, closing my eyes and lowering my defenses.

Since I had changed the original approach of how I would complete my mission, I had to make her vulnerable in front of me. Only that way could I conquer her.
But an obstacle called Jack had appeared.
Annoying.

"Shut up!" She hissed tossing the cloth in the basin. The splutter of water and her breathing replaced the conversation.

I took a mental step back and waited for her to calm down. She worked on my head, cleaned the scar, and wound a fresh bandage. The feel of her cold slender fingers moving around my head was soothing.
But they felt great as they touched, pressed, and caressed my upper body as she took care of the bruises and the wound.

There was no care at all. After all, we were enemies.
I was aware that she was not helping me out of the goodness in her heart.
She wanted something from me. Probably involved the man from earlier who kept addressing me as 'brother'.

"I don't know why you're wasting your time. I don't know that man, or what happened in the past."

She suddenly pushed a finger in my wound.

"Mmmmm!"
I groaned a rough grunt, my eyes flying open and my hand gripping her wrist.
"What the fuck!"

"I told you to shut up. I haven't asked you for-"

"Then why are you here?"

We stared at each other, our eyes each holding a scowl.
"Shouldn't you be grateful?"

"I'd prefer a bullet in my head than this torture."

She scoffed withdrawing her finger from my wound. "Death is an easy punishment for you. Jack has no plans of letting you go so easily."

I chuckled releasing her hand and relaxing my body. "So he'll be bearing me up during the day and you'll be stitching me up at night? What a lovely couple you are," I mocked.

She didn't spare me another glance. Her concentration was fully poured on the wound as she started stitching it.

My eyes moved from her serious face, to down at the open cleavage half spilled from her top. I carefully studied what I could see, from the cleavage to her nipples.
Without a bra, I could clearly trace the shape and size of her tits.
Her nipples seemed puffy, probably from being sucked roughly.

"Straight from fucking huh?"

"What?" She barked, darting her sour glare up at me. "What have you-"

I lifted my hand and boldly brushed my fingers across her swollen nipples.
She immediately gasped pushing herself away from the bed. But my able hand grabbed her wrist and tugged with all my might.