Chapter 7
Chapter Seven
SUMMER
How long does it take for a body to start smelling?
It's a horrible thought, and one that shouldn't be at the forefront of my mind right now, but Emilio's body is only three feet from me.
He's bruised and beaten, dried blood covering his skin.
He's slumped over in the chair, head tilted to the side, neck slit.
He lost control of his bodily functions, and the scent is already getting to me.
I can't even imagine how much worse it will get when the decomposition stage begins in earnest.
And then there's the matter of the vomit in the corner.
I stopped keeping track of how many times I threw up after I was alone and finally had time to focus on Emilio.
His poor family.
I hold my breath and do another lap around the cell, hoping that Noah is going to come and get me out of here soon. He can't keep leaving me here with nothing but a bucket and a roll of toilet paper.
Tears would be burning in my eyes right now if I weren't so dehydrated.
The door to the cell opens, and for a moment, I think it might be the guy who comes in here to empty the bucket.
Instead, it's three men I've never seen before.
They don't say a word as they step to the side.
One motions for me to come with them.
I do so without a word, my stomach growling loudly. I follow them through the house and back up to the room I had before.
After I'm inside, the lock turns, letting me know that I'm still a prisoner; I'm just not being mentally tortured anymore.
Letting out a shaky breath, I head straight for the shower. I don't feel strong enough to keep myself standing, but I smell like death and shit. And sweat. And vomit. And more death.
I step beneath the hot spray of the shower, scrubbing my skin raw, coating it in soap, and then doing it all over again.
The second I close my eyes, Emilio's swollen face is in my mind. He's staring at me like he thinks I should've saved him.
There's nothing I could've done, though.
You didn't have to let the psychopath chain you to the wall and finger you. You certainly didn't have to enjoy it.
Once the first sob starts, it's impossible to stop. The tears might be coming now, but I can't tell as I stand under the spray.
When I get out of here, I have to see Emilio's wife. I have to tell her I'm sorry I couldn't save him.
I slump against the tile until the water runs cold, and then I pull myself together.
If I want to survive this, I have to think smart. I have to be aware of what's going on. Grief can wait.
I wrap a towel tightly around my body and step into the other room. On the bed is a plate of food and a glass of water, perched on a wooden tray like this is some luxury hotel stay.
Even though I want to throw the food at Noah's head the next time I see him, I know that isn't the smart action right now. I need to eat the food, then I need to start thinking about everything else I have to do if I want to get out of here.
He's not going to let me go without a fight. And trying to kill him when he's not fully distracted isn't working.
But there was no ignoring the boner he had while his fingers were buried in me.
That's something I can work with.
I've never been one to use my body to get ahead, but if using it is what's going to keep me alive, then I'm going to try to channel the most sexual person I've ever been.
After I finish eating, I flop back on the bed and stare up at the ceiling, equal parts tension and relief flooding through me.
I don't know where I am right now or what's going to happen, but I'm not buried under the expectations of my family either.
I'm not trying to be the person they want me to be and then never being able to live up to it.
I don't have to pretend to be someone I'm not here.
I also don't know where I am or what I'm going to do beyond sleep and trying to think through the best way to seduce Noah.
\\\*
The sun is just starting to stream through the curtains the next morning when I get out of bed, get cleaned up, and head straight for the closet. There are all kinds of clothing in there, some of it skimpy, some of it the clothing I would wear to lounge.
I pick out a tiny black dress that's more lace than silk. I don't know what Noah was thinking when he had someone put this in here, but it's going to work.
I slip into the dress, fighting to get my boobs in the right position.
There's the sound of scraping on the other side of the door as I fall back onto the bed, linking my hands together behind my head.
My heart races, blood rushing in my ears, as the door opens and Noah steps into the room.
His gaze rakes down my body as I roll onto my side and look at him. Lust shines bright in his eyes, the front of his pants tenting.
I get up from the bed, making sure my legs spread, showing off my pussy for a moment before I stand and tug the dress back down.
He closes the door as I make my way to him, but I don't hear the lock engage.
Perfect.
I run my hands up his chest as I stop in front of him, then urge him back a step or two. It's all it takes to get close to the little shelf near the door.
The same shelf where I stashed a piece of broken mirror in the middle of the night last night.
I grab the mirror shard and ram it into his shoulder, dragging it down hard as he shouts and shoves me backward.
Blood drips down his arm, and glass cuts into my palm, but I manage to hold onto the mirror.
"You little bitch." He rushes over to me.
I raise the shard, aiming for his neck this time, but he grabs my wrist and spins me, slamming me into the wall.
Without a second thought, I drive my knee up into his balls hard.
He falters just a little, his blood dripping onto me as he takes my hand and slams it back into the wall.
I hold on tighter until he slams it again. Pain radiates through my hand as the mirror drops.
"That was very fucking stupid," he says, one hand keeping my wrist pinned to the wall, the other grabbing my throat. His fingers dig into either side.
And I hate the way heat flows through my body and straight to my core, arousal dripping down my thighs.
Noah smirks, his eyes shining bright. "If I touched that sweet little pussy of yours, would it be soaking wet right now?"
I knee him again, jerking as soon as he doubles over.
His hands drop, and I rush out from around him, lunging for the door.
Hands grab my waist, and I'm hauled back and thrown on the bed.
Noah flips me onto my back, climbing on top of me and pinning me down.
I reach out, slapping him and leaving a bloody handprint on the side of his face.
"So, we're slapping now?" He cocks his head to the side, evil glittering in his eyes as his hard cock digs into me.
He shifts, pinning one of my arms beneath his body, grabbing the other wrist and hauling it high above my head.
"Should I chain you up again? Toss you back in with the body and forget to feed you? "
"Bastard."
His lips skim my jaw. "I love it when you talk dirty to me."
"Fuck you."
He chuckles, dragging my earlobe between his teeth, biting down hard before letting it go. "You couldn't handle me."
I writhe beneath him, turned on and pissed off all at the same time.
I shouldn't be turned on by him at all, but there's something about the way he takes control and throws me around.
His blood smears with mine as he presses closer into me. "Your pussy is aching for me, isn't it?"
Maybe I could spin this in my favor. Throw him off guard. Get him hooked on me. Use my body for more than what I was planning.
It'd be lying to say the idea didn't thrill me just a little.
I gaze up at him, matching the look he gives me. "My mouth, actually. But I can't handle you, right?"
He smirks, fingers trailing down the side of my body, teasing the underside of my boob. "No. You couldn't."
"Prove it."
I know men like him. They can't resist a challenge.
A couple of seconds later, his mouth is on mine, lips moving in time, demanding more when he bites my bottom lip, his body easing off mine a little.
My hands are free, so I run them beneath his shirt, the feeling of his taut muscles beneath my skin doing wonders for the pool of arousal between my thighs.
His teeth sink into my bottom lip, drawing a gasp out of me.
I'm aching as I roll my hips, grinding into the hard cock pressing against my leg.
He rocks his hips into me, and the moan that comes out of me is horrifying.
I don't think I've been this turned on in my life.
Focus, Summer.
As I push on his chest, he moves back, standing up.
I get off the bed and sink to my knees in front of him, fingers going for the zipper of his jeans.
He pulls his shirt off and tosses it to the side as I take out his cock.
It's long and hard, the vein underneath popping out.
I wrap my hand around the base, stroking to the tip and rubbing in the drops of pre-cum.
He groans, fingers weaving through my hair as he pulls my face closer.
I lick my way up his cock, swirling my tongue along the head before going back down.
His groan has my pussy aching. I repeat the process, this time taking him into my mouth.
Noah wastes no time, holding my head in place and thrusting himself to the back of my mouth.
I gag a little, wrapping my hand tighter around the base, eyes watering as I do my best to take him deep.
"Good little slut," he whispers, looking down at me as he rocks his cock out and back in. "Take all of me."
There's no way that's going to happen, but he keeps pounding into me anyway, tears streaming down my cheeks as I struggle to keep up.
I stroke my hand in time with my mouth, getting into a rhythm with him.
His cock stiffens, and he comes, thick ropes pouring into me.
I swallow everything he gives, sucking and licking, grazing my teeth along the sensitive skin until he pulls out.
I get to my feet, mildly horrified about what I just did. It might be enough, though. I don't need much. Just enough to get him to relax around me.
Noah smirks as he tucks himself away. "You didn't think that little sex stunt was going to do anything, did you?"
My heart drops to the floor. "I don't know what you're talking about."
He swipes a finger at the corner of my mouth before holding it up to me. "Looks like you missed some."
"Bastard."
The cum is wiped across my collarbones before he shakes his head and picks up the mirror shard, leaving me standing there in the middle of the room with no clue what to do now.
He smirks and shakes his head. "It was a nice try. Should be good practice for what's coming."
The door slams behind him, the lock clicking.
I suck in a sharp breath, wondering what the hell that means.
I thought he was going to kill me, but based on the look in his eyes and that smug smile, something else is coming my way.
My stomach starts to turn, my mind spinning with possibilities.
I'm dealing with a murderer—a sick bastard who knows no limits, who doesn't care who he hurts.
The fact that there's something he thinks would be worse for me than death is terrifying.