Antonio turns off the water and shoves a threadbare towel at me. It’s nothing like the towels Victor keeps at the house. Although the rough fabric feels good against my skin. It makes me feel alive.
“Hurry up,” he barks.
My clothes are gone when I step out of the shower, and in their place is a pair of thin gray sweatpants and an olive-green T-shirt. No panties. No bra. No shoes.Be grateful for the clothes.
As soon as the sweatpants are on and the T-shirt is over my head, he grabs my arm, again, and hauls me out the door into a windowless room with concrete floors. Guards clustered in small groups make a path for us as we approach. No one says a word.
Is this the prison he once threatened me with? The one where he said the guards would take turns using me?
You knew this would be the punishment if you ran. You knew it, and you were willing to suffer the consequences.I was.
“I’m sorry, Antonio. I’m so sorry. I beg you for mercy.” It’s a very public apology, for a very public offense. My punishment will be very public too.
I’ll toss you to the guards and let them have at you. When they’ve had their fill, they’ll take you deep into the caves and drop you into a real prison.Those were his exact words.
“I’m sorry,” I repeat, more desperately this time. Although in my heart I’m not sorry. And I’m not the one in the wrong here, but this isn’t the time to make a point. I won’t win. I’ll just make my situation worse.
Antonio grips my arm tighter, and I wince. I’m sure there will be a bruise. This time he won’t care. I don’t care either. It’s the least of my problems.
“I don’t want to hear another goddamn word out of you until you’re interrogated. Nothing,” he shouts. The word echoes in the cold room.
The vengeance he seeks makes my eyes water. But I swallow back the tears. I won’t cry in front of them. It’ll just be one more thing for them to mock. This might be the beginning of the end for me, but I’ll leave this earth with at least a shred of dignity.
Antonio hands me over not to Cristiano, but to Lucas, who has always had a rougher edge about him.
“Chain her to a chair in the central cave.” He walks away without once looking at me. It’s as though he’s distancing himself.
There will be no mercy for me.
Lucas leads me forward without uttering a single word. On the way out of the room, I notice Joeyand the creepy man from the market. They’re not restrained. They’re talking with the guards as if they all know each other.
It was a setup.
That bastard. That fucking sonofabitch. He’s evil personified.
“It was all a game,” I say to Lucas when we’re out of hearing range of the guards. “Did you enjoy scaring me half to death?”
“If you think any of this is a game, you’re even dumber than I thought you were.”
I shiver at the menace in his voice.
With a hand still on me, Lucas drags a metal chair into the center of a room filled with wooden barrels, lined up in neat rows. This is one of the caves where Huntsman Port ages.
“Sit,” he commands, like I’m a dog.
I sit down, and he attaches cuffs to my wrists and chains them behind my back. The binding isn’t so tight that I can’t move, but the chains are heavy, and this position is going to get uncomfortable soon. Lucas chains my legs too.
Before he leaves, he brings a water bottle to my mouth. I shake my head.
“It’s a mistake, but suit yourself.” He screws the cap back on. “One bad decision after another.”
Moments later, the lights in the room are turned off, except for the one directly over my head.
Lucas is right about one thing. This isn’t a game. This is deadly serious. I feel it in my marrow.
It’s been more than twenty-four hours since I’ve slept. It has to be. Despite my attempts to stay awake, I nod off here and there.
As the minutes turn into hours, I have trouble discerning dreams from reality.