20. Torrent
Chapter 20
Torrent
“Wakey-wakey,” I hear him yell before the top comes off of my crate. God, I hate him. I can see better this morning—not exactly clear, but I can make out faces. For instance, the guy grabbing me and pulling me from the crate is as ugly as I imagined he was. Most of his features are blurry, but I can make out his beard, which is bushy and unkempt. His eyebrows are much the same and his eyes are small and even though I can’t focus on them I know that they are as cold as the rest of him.
“Ow!” I cry when he grabs me by the hair, pulling it.
“You got a date with your daddy,” he growls and fear grips my heart so tightly I can’t breathe.
“Please, don’t bring my dad into this. You don’t have to?—”
“Good thing you’re pretty because you sure are stupid as fuck. This has always been about your daddy, you bitch.”
I let him drag me, I don’t bother fighting—not now. I try my best to keep my head clear because I know I’m going to need it soon. He drags me to the wall that faces the front entrance and thankfully pushes an old tattered T-shirt over my naked body. It’s not much—but I’m thankful for it.
My eyes are watering, but I can clearly make out a bright red double door. The man brings his knee up and plants it into my stomach. I go down instantly, gasping as the wind leaves my body. Once I hit the floor, he grabs one of my wrists, pulling it to a chair. Then he slaps a shackle on my wrist. I yank it, trying to get away, but I can’t. It’s attached to the leg of the chair. It’s not like the chair is lightweight either. It’s heavy and big enough that two people could probably fit into it. I pull again and again, hoping something is off and I can get free. The man punches me in the face and I instantly feel blood begin to seep from my lip. I go down, the world moving too swiftly and the pain colliding with nausea.
“Dodger’s walking up the dock,” another voice says.
“Please,” I start, wanting to beg for my dad’s life. I’d be willing to promise anything. I don’t want my dad to die because of me.
“I really like it when you beg,” the man laughs. He tightens his hand on my chin, lifting my head up, pulling me to him. My face is inches from him and he’s leering—even through my bad vision and panic I can see that. “Give me a kiss. If you’re good enough I might make you my pet,” he says and his breath washes over me. With all the other odors around me I shouldn’t be able to smell it as much as I do, but it’s so strong it makes me sick. His teeth are black, as if he spends his time doing Meth. His bad skin would indicate that too. I can’t even pretend to go along with him. Instead, I spit at him. He slaps me hard, my face jerking to the side with the force of the hit.
“Torrent!” my father yells from the door and he tries to make it to me, but two men grab him almost instantly. They’re big men, but even then my father nearly drags them to get to me—that is, until one of the men hits him over the head with something and my father goes down, instantly knocked out.
I scream; I can’t do anything else.
I’m powerless to help him… or myself.