Chapter 23 Sophie
Sophie
This might be weird to say because I’ve been in captivity for God knows how long, but the last few days have been total shit.
Luka hasn’t been here in over a week. Neither have the other guys I became familiar with. I almost miss them. Better the devil you know, I guess.
At first, I was apprehensive. Then, I tried to become friendly, or as friendly as possible under the circumstances. But I soon learned these guys are different.
Not sure what the reason is. When they speak to each other, it’s the same language—Croatian. They’re obviously a part of the same organization.
But they give me the chills. None of them play chess with me.
My guess is they don’t know how to. I still play on my own, but it’s not nearly as stimulating.
And stimulating my mind is what’s keeping me sane.
They throw my food on the bed, rather than placing it, as if I’m vermin.
And they comment on the girls upstairs all the fucking time.
I was lucky enough not to understand Croatian, but they spoke about it so much that I was forced to partially understand what they’re saying.
Today is one of those instances. There’s a shift change happening.
Zvone just got here, and Stipe retells the story I’ve had the misfortune of hearing a few times before.
You don’t have to understand Croatian to read the body language he uses describing the blow job he got upstairs.
Zvone smirks with a gleam in his eyes as he listens to the story.
“How much did you pay for it?” he asks in English.
“Pay? Brate, we’re the bosses here. Why the hell would I pay?”
Bile rises in my throat as their laughter echoes the walls of my cage.
“You have a point there,” Zvone responds, licking his lips. He shoots me a quick glance that sets my mind spinning.
Stipe pats his back and leaves, leaving me with the worst of them.
None of them touched me. I guess I should be thankful for that, but his looks alone make me feel violated. Every time he has the night shift; I force myself to stay awake as long as possible but I’m so exhausted that I never make it through the night without falling asleep. Tonight’s no different.
I busy my brain with a thousand thoughts, hoping to make it forget about sleep, but my lids are heavy, and my mind gets foggy…
Asense of dread awakens me from my slumber. My eyelids struggle to catch up, but a chill runs up my spine.
It’s cold. My skin feels exposed even though it’s supposed to be covered with both the blanket and my hoodie. Catching a breath is a feat, but when I do, my eyes jolt open, instantly regretting it.
Zvone sits on the bed, eagerly peeling the clothes off me. My hoodie is already off and he’s now working on my pants.
My throat clogs up as I attempt to fight him, but I’m frozen in place. My mouth opens and closes, but no sound comes out.
Zvone has now fully taken my pants off. With my heart pumping loudly in my ears and no oxygen making its way to my lungs, I’m on the verge of passing out. My vision darkens, but I won’t give up that easily.
Come on, Sophie. Fight!
I shut my eyes for a moment to collect myself.
Name five things you can see.
Opening my eyes, I count five things. One. The disgusting smirk on Zvone’s face. Two. My poor discarded hoodie. And pants. Four. My naked skin. Bile rises in my throat. Five. His gun is placed on the table, way out of my reach.
Four things I can feel.
I don’t have time for this!
I feel his grimy fingers on me as he works his way up to my panties. The only sound I hear is the pumping of my heart and the one thing I smell is his rancid breath, way too close to me.
I don’t get to the end of my exercise before my voice finally breaks free.
“Aaaaah! Get off of me!”
My limbs follow, thrashing wildly to jerk out of his touch. My foot connects to his ribs, making him let out a grunt.
I use the fact that he’s distracted and slither out of the bed, barely landing upright.
My bare feet run as fast as they can and just as I’m about to reach the door, he grabs me by the waist and drags me back, throwing me to the couch as if I’m a rag doll.
He lowers on top of me while I do my best to fight back.
“Calm the fuck down,” he mutters under his breath, like I’m the problem.
“Let me go!” I yell.
His chest lifts, his heavy body keeping my legs in place as his eyes stare at me with hatred.
“I’ve been wasting my nights here. There’s a certain itch I haven’t been able to scratch.” He tries to get closer again, but I kick him in the shoulder.
He rubs his shoulder with the other hand, shooting me a glare.
“You want to get paid? Fine.” He takes out a wallet from his back pocket and digs through it.
“Here you go.” He drops a couple of tens on my chest and lowers his torso over me.
My lungs constrict, but I won’t give up. I can’t. His hands cage me in.
“Stop! You won’t get away with this. I’ll tell Luka!”
Zvone scoffs. “You think he cares about you, little girl? You’re our prisoner,” he spits out. “And I can do whatever the hell I want.”
Liquid drops to my cheeks and I realize I’m crying. I try to wiggle out of his hold, but it’s impossible.
“Help!” I scream, though the chances of anyone hearing me are minimal.
Using whatever brain power I have left; I try to scratch his face with my nails. I guess I succeed because he lets out a roar, grabbing my hands and holding them above my head.
His grip is tight and painful on my wrists, but my hands are the least of my problems. I sob, and scream, and kick as much as I can while he tries to take my panties off.
The couch is narrow, and there’s no place for him to maneuver, saving me for now, but it’s only a matter of time before he does what he’s planning to do.
And I have no way of escaping.
My head thrashes from side to side and just as he peels my underwear and the last remnants of hope slip away from me, a weird sound cuts through my screams.
It takes me a second to realize that the sound was the door opening and my gaze flicks to them. Luka stands there, larger than life, his eyes narrowed on the bed.
Too shocked to keep fighting, I use the break to pull in a breath, which is enough for Luka to stomp toward us. Grabbing him by the neck, he throws Zvone off the bed, too fast and too high for a man of his size.
Luka’s gaze lands on my almost naked body, making his brows lower further. In one move, he’s on him the way Zvone was on me just a second ago. Just like he did to me, he overpowers Zvone, his disgusting little eyes widening in fear.
“Luka, stani! There’s no need for this. She asked for this.”
One glance into my eyes and Luka pummels a fist through Zvone’s face. A loud crunch fills the air, the sound of a bone breaking. A gasp escapes me, but Luka doesn’t stop. Hit after hit, his fist connects to the now bloody face of a guy who tried to rape me.
I’m rooted to the spot, my eyes glued to the scene in front of me. It’s gory and violent, but my fear is gone. It seeped out of me while Zvone’s blood rushed down his beaten-up face. Luka’s shoulders are impossibly wide, his arms dolling out justice I’ve never received before.
At this moment, he’s not my captor. He’s not the guy who kidnapped me. He’s my protector. The guy who made me feel safe. For the first time since that night.