My heart shatters into a million pieces. No matter how hard I press my palm against my chest, I can’t stop falling apart. A single tear rolls down my face as I watch the man I call my father walk away from me without remorse.
“Don’t worry, sweetheart. I’ll take good care of you. And if you behave, I’ll even let you call me daddy.
A shiver runs down my spine at the memory. Nash saved me that day. He saved me from a fate I don’t ever want to think about. Now he is dead, and I can never repay him.
Did it hurt? Was it slow or fast? They never told me. I don’t know if that’s a good thing or not. After the endless living nightmare I’ve been through, one thing is for sure: the anticipation of pain can be worse than the pain itself. The mind can come up with a lot of ugly ideas if you give it enough time—and I’ve got nothing but time.
I only wish I could have seen him again. Just once more. You never think the last time you see someone will really be the last time.
I try to open my right eye, and the lid lifts a little more than it did yesterday, but it’s still swollen half shut. Another gift from Rick. What I wouldn’t do to pay him back, to pay them both back. Filthy bastards. Nothing better to do than terrorize me. They’re the other half of the reason I’m afraid to sleep.
Now I know for sure they’re watching me. There have to be cameras in here somewhere. It seems like whenever I finally doze off, when I can’t possibly fight it anymore, that’s when they choose to open the door and barge in and fuck with me. Taunting me, slapping me around, even pushing me to the ground threatening to rape me.
Sometimes, I think about maybe pushing them back. Maybe I’ll force them into taking things too far. Pushing me too hard, slamming me against the floor instead of shoving me down. Maybe I can put an end to this myself. Go out on my own terms, at least. Because what else is there? I’d rather die than live the rest of my days like this. An animal in a zoo for them to take out their aggression on.
My head is swimming, my thoughts murky and mixed up. I’m not sure if I’m asleep or awake anymore. I tilt my head back, blinking with my good eye, and the overhead light sways back and forth.
Only it’s mounted flush with the ceiling. It shouldn’t sway. Is it my head swaying?
The door slams open, startling me into scrambling across the cot until I’m curled in a tight ball in the corner. I brace myself. They like to get right down to it usually. Throwing water at me when I fall asleep, hauling me to my feet, shoving me back and forth like I’m a ball they’re playing with. I wait, anticipating what might happen next. Instead, it’s nothing I would expect, just footsteps before a deep voice rings out. “She smells like shit.”
I turn my face away from the corner, squinting up at the mysterious man now standing at the foot of the cot. He’s never been here before. I know because I’d remember a man like him.
Tall, imposing, he stares down at me, wearing a nasty smirk. What is he here for? Is he the man who’s finally going to show mercy and put an end to this? I don’t even care how he does it. So long as it gets done before I start to beg. That’s the one thing I haven’t done yet, but every day that passes, I get a little closer to begging. For mercy, for my life… For them to end my life.
He turns his head toward the doorway, where Rick and Bruno are waiting. “How long has she been here?”
“A long time.” Yes, if I had it in me, I would point out how unlikely it is for either of them to be able to count.
The man snorts as he turns his attention back to me, shaking his head slowly. “Well done. I don’t know that I could have shown such restraint.”
Restraint?What the hell is he talking about? I look up at him again, focusing harder this time. Who is he? Better yet, who does he think he is? What would he have done differently?
He walks around to the side of the cot, and I flinch before I can help it. He only chuckles, reaching out. I try to turn my face away, but he’s too quick, taking me by the chin, yanking my head around, and tipping it back so he can look me in the eye. “You understand you deserve everything you’ve gotten, don’t you?”
Am I supposed to answer that? I wouldn’t know how. I don’t even know who he is.
“What, did they cut your tongue out? Answer me.” His fingers bite into my flesh. “You deserve all of this, don’t you? Tell me.”
Before I can say a word, he shoves my head away. I recover in time to see him wipe his hand on his pants like I’ve soiled him. Maybe I have. I’m filthy, after all.
He takes a step back. “On your feet. Now.”
What fresh hell is this? I’m so weak and sore, but something in his voice gets me moving. It has to be the fear of what he’ll do if I don’t give him what he wants. This isn’t Rick or Bruno. I feel something totally different coming from him. They’re mindlessly cruel, a couple of bullies who get off on hurting people.
But this guy? This guy makes me feel like there’s something personal going on. He isn’t nasty. He’s hateful, the way Quinton is hateful.
I sway on my feet but manage to stay upright. The little bit of strength still inside me won’t let him watch me crumble.
“You’re coming with me.” Before I know it, he’s walking through the door, and my two keepers step aside to give him room. Is this really it? Am I leaving? Just like that? Part of me is afraid to follow him, afraid of where he’s taking me. Will it be worse than this?
Move your feet, stupid. If I didn’t know better, I would think I was already brainwashed or something. One of those people who ends up siding with their captors after being kidnapped. No way. I glare at Rick and Bruno as I pass. They only roll their eyes and snicker.
This new guy, whoever he is, isn’t slowing down or waiting for me. I follow him at the fastest pace I can manage, my bare feet slapping against the cold floor. I’m really leaving. I’ll never have to see that cell again. I’ve told myself so many times not to have hope, but now that the prospect of breathing fresh air is right in front of me, I can’t help it. And it gives me the strength to keep moving, staring at the back of the man’s head.
That hope lasts about as long as it takes him to open the door to the outside, and a fierce gust of wind slams into me, almost knocking me on my ass. He notices the way I wrap my arms around myself and hunch my shoulders against the cold, but he doesn’t so much as offer me his coat. He keeps moving, not even looking over his shoulder to make sure I’m following. He crunches through the snow, and for a second, I think this has to be a cruel joke. I’m supposed to walk barefoot in the snow now? He can’t mean it.
“Move your ass!” he barks, the sound of it almost lost to the wind. So he does expect me to do it. It’s either grit my teeth and get it over with or stay here. I know what I’m choosing.