Chapter 5 5

Arie

I'm not sure exactly how long I've been here but it feels like hours upon hours. Perhaps even days for all I know.

I have no recollection of how I got here, or what happened after those men broke into my apartment. All I remember is them cornering me in my living room and after that, everything went black.

The next thing I know, I'm waking up here. Even though I have no idea where here actually is. I'm surrounded by these strange men who sound as though they have Italian accents, in a room with a small window and a hanging light that looks like it's survived through every single world war.

The sound of the door reopening snaps me out of my thoughts and I glance towards it, watching as the familiar man from before enters again. Two small cups in each of his hands as he motions his head to the man standing against the wall beside me.

He walks over and picks up a chair, folding it out so the man can sit on it, and placing it directly in front of me.

I continue watching him as he sits down, putting one of the cups on the floor by his foot and holding the other one out in front of me. "Here, it's just water."

I look down into the cup to see the contents, not completely believing him. Flicking my eyes back up at him uncertainly, he sighs, placing the cup down on the floor beside the other one.

His large legs are almost touching mine as he rests his forearms on them, rubbing his hands together before toying with one of his gold rings, twirling it around his finger.

"So, Arie." He begins. "How old are you?"

"Twenty-two." I tell him.

He nods his head slowly in response, rolling his lips together. "Why photography?"

I shrug my shoulders sheepishly. "I don't know. I guess I've just always loved it."

Chewing on the inside of my mouth, I flick my eyes up to his and watch as he continues to study me, as though he's trying to figure me out.

"I just realized that I know your name, but you do not know mine." He says as he straightens his back, sitting up in the seat. "I'm Diego."

My eyes dart down to his white dress shirt as he shifts in the seat, the visible muscles under his top straining against the thin material. A small chain is barely noticeable around his neck, along with a small hoop in his ear of the same gold colour.

"I mean you no harm, I just want to know why you took the picture, and why you ran." He adds.

Are we seriously still going on about this fucking picture?

"I've told you, it was an accident. I wasn't taking a picture of you and your big scary friends on purpose, you just happened to be in the background." I reply.

"So why did you run if it wasn't on purpose?"

I arch a brow at his question. "If two scary ass men with a gun started chasing you, would you run? Or would you wait and see if they were just going to ask you for the goddamn time?" I counter.

He doesn't respond, except release a deep breath from his mouth, lifting his brows slightly. "Running made you look guilty."

"Well if I hadn't, who knows where I'd be. I could've been dead for all I know." I tell him. "Why would I not run if people were chasing me?"

Again, he doesn't respond but instead just continues to watch me. His big brown eyes study me hard as though he's either deep in thought or he's trying to decipher whether what I'm saying is believable enough for him.

I squirm against the rope around my wrists again, grimacing as I feel it cut my skin for what feels like the hundredth time. "Can you please untie me? I promise I won't try anything."

"No."

I frown, still grimacing at the burning sensation and purposely making rather dramatic wimping noises to see if it'll get some sort of reaction from him.

He looks as though he's considering it before eventually getting up from his seat and walking around the back of my chair. His large hands swiftly remove the rope from my hands and it falls to the floor behind me.

Ha, too easy.

Once my hands are free, I move them in front of me and look down at them, noticing cuts and burn marks from where I was pulling so much.

He returns to his seat and lifts the cup of water off the ground again, holding it out to me. "I promise it's just water."

I furrow my brows as he picks up the other too, bringing it to his lips and drinking some as though to prove it to me.

"Why am I supposed to believe you?" I ask.

"You're not." He says. "You shouldn't trust anyone."

Well.. that make sense? Not.

"I'm not like that." He continues. "Into the whole drugging women thing. It's not my style."

What's he looking for? A pat on the fucking back?

"Here," he gestures for me to take it again.

I stare at the cup, debating whether to believe him or not. I mean, I am ridiculously thirsty and if it is just water then I'd be a fool not to take some.

"Okay," I reply hesitantly and take the cup from him, trying to control my shaking hands as I bring it to my mouth and take a small sip.

He extends his hand out for me to give it back to him once I'm done, which I do, and he puts them both back on the floor again.

"See, here's the thing Arie. I can't trust you."

I knit my brows. "What do you mean?"