Chapter 4
I woke with a pounding headache. Did Rachel and I go drinking last night? I stretched my arms out. The bed felt strange, but comfortable.
Strange… Was this my bed? No. Rachel’s bed? I tried to open my eyes, but it felt like sandpaper was wedged underneath my eyelids. The light was too bright.
“Rach?” I groaned. I tried to turn away from the light, but pain shot through my body. Gods, why did everything hurt so bad?
Realisation struck me.
No.
The bank. The van. The cabin. His voice. The memories came flooding in.
“Shhhh…” No, no. Oh gods, no!
I wanted to die. In that moment, I wanted to die. I couldn’t face it.
My fingers trembled over my aching body, to feel if anything was out of place. As if they could feel what he had done to me.
Ice crawled up my spine and I yanked the covers down, looking at myself.
My long-sleeved shirts and cargo pants were gone, replaced by short, soft, green pyjamas.
Nausea pulsed through my body. I tried to get up to run to the bathroom, but my legs were jelly.
Instead, I crawled to the bathroom on trembling limbs, reaching the toilet just in time.
Bile was all that came out. I haven’t eaten anything lately.
The nausea returned each time I caught a glimpse of the green material, making me heave over the toilet once more.
After a while I could sit back, finally having the courage to look at myself again. My bare legs and arms were covered in cuts and bruises. Some of the deeper cuts had butterfly plasters on. There was a bandage around my upper arm. How many of these happened while I slept? Maybe I shouldn’t know.
A tapping sound interrupted my morbid thoughts. A crow tapped on the window with its beak. Was it here to help me, or waiting to scavenge the meat from my carcass?
My hands clasped weakly over the rim of the basin as I pulled myself up, locking my knees and willing my shaky legs to stand.
My reflection in the mirror scared me. My red hair was sticking to my grey, sweaty face.
My once sparkling green eyes looked sunken, defeated.
Paired with the black circles underneath, I looked incredibly sickly.
Yet, it still couldn’t compare to the way I felt.
There were bruises on my cheeks, and the insides of it, were cut.
Probably by my own teeth when he tried to get my mouth open.
The bedroom door opened, and I whirled, grasping the basin for balance.
Grayson sauntered over to me, looking merry. He was yet again dressed in cargo pants and a black t-shirt that was a bit too tight. “Good morning, sunshine. Slept well?” He grinned at me, mockingly.
Rage and disgust filled my every fibre. How fucking dare he? He touched me… he… gods, I couldn’t think it.
When he stopped in front of me, I spat. Right in his face.
His grin slid away. Grayson just stared at me, murder in his eyes.
And I stared right the fuck back. The red gashes over his eye, made by me, almost had me smiling.
At least I left my mark. People would take one look at that pretty face of his and know.
Know that I had put up a fight. Even if I ended up like those poor humans in the picture.
At least I had his skin and blood under my fingernails.
Grayson moved slow, but with an intent that made me hold my breath.
When he was right up against me, his fingers closed around my neck while he bowed my body backwards over the basin; his body, solid and unyielding, pressing into me.
My stomach churned again. Our noses were touching.
He didn’t bother to wipe the spit from his face.
“Admiring your handiwork, cupcake?”
He had a smile on his face again. It chilled me to the bone. He was enjoying this.
“I’m going to make you pay for this scar, you know that, right?”
There was no use in responding.
“A scar for a scar,” he purred, gliding the point of his knife up over the side of my body.
I stood horrified as the knife came to a stop underneath my eye.
“Please,” I begged. “Haven’t you scarred me enough?
” The oiliness of him lingered in my gut, in my pores.
His face, his voice, his smell would forever haunt me, for as long as I had left to live.
He was branded into my mind, like his touch was branded into my skin.
He chuckled, running his nose over the skin on my neck, inhaling deeply. “But I’m just getting started.” His teeth sank into my jaw.
My hands gripped onto his shirt as I struggled to push him away, but I was still weak from whatever he drugged me with.
He was leaving yet another mark on my face, and there was nothing I could do to stop him.
Even if I weren’t feeling so weak, I would still be no match for him.
He towered over me, his body engulfing mine.
I had never felt so powerless, so hopeless.
The crow was squawking loudly while flapping against the window.
Grayson let go of me, his eyes flitting between me and the crow with intrigue.
He used the flat side of his knife to turn my head so he could study his imprint on my jaw.
He let his fingers trail over it, satisfaction shining in his eyes with the point he proved.
That he would do whatever he wanted to me.
“I’ll bring you some lunch.” He walked off, shutting the door behind him.
The crow flew off, so I turned to the mirror to see the mark on my face. It would bruise but wouldn’t leave a scar. So many emotions went through me. Anger. Disgust. Despair. Fear.
I had to get out of here.
I showered as fast as I could, afraid that he might walk into the bathroom since there was no lock. My skin was red and raw, but I just couldn’t scrub him off me. It couldn’t be, it was my mind playing tricks on me, but I could still smell him on me.
I went to sit on the windowsill, careful not to look at the bed.
The forest was beautiful. It continued as it always did, not stopping its ways because of my predicament.
The cabin sat atop a hill. From the window I could see miles ahead and the start of mountain ranges.
The sun was high up, moving as it always did; not caring that my world had stopped.
It was past noon already. It seemed like the sun would be my only indication of time.
That’s it! I could use the mountains to pinpoint where I was on the map. There were many mountains in these parts, but it was something. It was hope.
It wouldn’t be safe to take the map out just yet. My captor could walk in any second.
Which he did. Grayson came in with a stack of pancakes.
“From my friend,” he said as he placed it onto the dresser.
The plate with the sandwich was gone. Where was the woman anyway?
She hadn’t come to the room yet. Why was she allowing this to happen to me?
To that woman and child? Unless she was also trapped somehow.
A woman’s shackles aren’t always visible.
“What time is it? How long did you make me sleep?”
“You were out for two days.”
My stomach dropped. My knuckles turned white as I clutched the windowsill. Two days? They had taken me three… no, four days ago. So, then it’s Friday? Were the police still looking for me?
Realisation dawned on me. It’s been four days.
“Don’t look so worried, darling. Your snoring wasn’t too loud.”
He had an amused smile on his face, and my palm prickled to smack it right off.
Grayson picked up the plate and placed it in front of me on the windowsill. “Eat. You’re killing yourself,” he said nonchalantly.
I haven’t eaten in four days. My stomach was audibly growling from the moment I smelled the pancakes. It was an effort to restrain myself from stuffing my face straight into the stack. Instead, I tore a piece off and made sure to chew slowly. He was watching me.
After a few bites, I asked, “Why do you care? Isn’t that the plan anyway?”
He leaned against the dresser, making himself comfortable. “You’re right. I don’t care.” He was staring past me out the window. A few minutes went by. “You look like shit, though. And I have to look at you.” His eyes were on me again, his face wrinkled in disgust.
Good. I wanted him to feel disgusted when looking at me. Almost more than I wanted to eat. Maybe it would keep him away from me. But it still irked me, the way he was talking about how I looked, like I was to blame, and not he himself. He was godsdamned delusional.
“You’ll find that when you don’t kidnap and drug the women you want to fuck, they usually look a lot better.” I was fuming. And feeling bolder than what was good for me.
He threw his head back laughing. “You think I want to fuck you?” He laughed again like I had told the most absurd joke. It made my blood boil even more.
Grayson walked over to me, while I tried my best to keep glaring at him. My confidence and anger were fizzing out at his proximity. His eyes glided over my body, and I had to suppress a shudder. He scared the living daylights out of me.
“Darling, I would break you.”
He picked the last piece of pancake off the plate and popped it into his grinning mouth before turning for the door. “But if you want me to fuck you so badly, you could just ask.”
I threw the plate, aiming for his big head, but it shattered against the closed door. Regret hit me immediately. I expected him to storm back in, but he didn’t.