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Part XLVI Relena did not make a sound as she was roughly shoved back into her cell. The new suit she had been forced to wear was warmer, but she missed the comfort she got from the sweatshirt and jeans Heero had gotten her. ‘Heero, where are you?’
“You did well.” She glanced at her captor over her shoulder. He wore plain gray coveralls and black workboots. There was nothing in the apparel to give her a clue about who he was or who he was affiliated with. And it frustrated her. “I’m so glad you approve,” she replied in her best aristocratic tone. A muscle twitched in his jaw. It was the only hint of emotion the man showed before viciously backhanding her. She fell against the cot, banging her head against the metal frame. This blow was much harder than the one Relena had received when she had initially declined to read the statement. The first had merely bruised her cheek. Make-up before the address had easily covered the slight swelling and discoloration. There was no such restraint this time. The one had split her lip, and the frame had sliced into her skin of her cheek and temple. “We won’t to be using you again for a while, so I don’t have to be too concerned about preserving that pretty face of yours.” He reached down and grabbed her chin, pulling it up so she could face him. “Though it would be a shame to mar it permanently.” He released her, and her head fell back against the mattress. “Despite what people believe, you are just a woman, Relena. A fragile being made of flesh And like any other woman, you can be broken.” He walked to the door of the cell. The metal grated against the cement as it opened. “Oh, and try not to get any blood on that suit.” |
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