Chapter 43
brIELLE
Pain radiates from my chest as the men drag me behind Susie.
I have no idea where we are, nor can I even focus on that if I wanted to.
My legs feel like they’re going to give out at any moment as terror races through me.
The men pull me through a narrow hallway after making a few turns before entering another room.
More of a bathroom with a few showers, and that’s it. There’s no privacy here, though.
No walls.
No doors.
Wide open for all to see.
I dig my feet into the floor to no avail, but these men are fucking huge.
“Stop fighting, or I’ll take my turn with you first,” the taller man whispers in my ear. His threat makes me stop in my tracks, and my head spins as my new reality settles in.
I’m getting sold. I will be used. I will get drugged. Raped.
I don’t know whether I want to scream or cry.
Susie steps up to one of the showers, turns on the water, and adjusts the temperature. She turns and nods to the guard who still has his hand wrapped around my bicep. He pushes me forward and releases me.
“Strip.”
“Yeah. Zero chances of that happening.” I cross my arms over my chest, not wanting to listen to anything he says. The pressure of his gun presses against my chest.
“Now.”
I’m not getting fucking naked for anyone. I’d rather be caked in dirt and grime than listen to him.
“Fuck you.” I spit at his shoes, hitting him right on the tip of his boots.
A full minute stretches before he steps forward, his jaw clenching.
With lightning speed, he hits me with the gun over the side of my head and I grunt out, gripping my head as it throbs.
I fall to the ground, and blood from where he hit me drips onto the floor.
The guard kicks me over until I fall onto my side before bringing the tip of his steel-toed boot to my ribs and kicking me.
I cough, trying to breathe through the pain, but fuck, it hurts.
Between this and where Susie kicked me, I’m not sure what else I’ll be able to handle.
I roll away from him and almost puke from the pain.
His hand makes its way into my hair, and he pulls me up until I’m back on my feet, which fucking hurt even more after the open wound I have from his gun.
“Strip. Now,” he says again, and this time I listen as I push his arm away. I don’t want to obey, but I also don’t want to die before I get any chance to get the fuck out of here.
I slowly strip, tossing my clothes to the side. The guard watches me the whole time, lust burning deep in his eyes. When I’m completely naked, he nods toward the water.
“Wash,” he demands once again, and it’s taking everything in me not to try and drown him somehow.
I step into the water and turn my back toward him, knowing his eyes are on my ass. There’s nothing more than a bar of soap to wash with. I guess I should be thankful for this shower because I’m not sure when the next time I’ll be able to feel clean will come.
I can still feel the guard’s eyes on my body as I rinse the soap off.
His intentions are clear as day. I’ve never been shy of my body. I know it’s decent, but that doesn’t mean I want anyone to look at it. Thankfully, he doesn’t touch me, not even when I’m done and putting my used clothes back on. At least I don’t have to stay naked.
Not yet, at least.
I’m taken to a different room than before. This time it’s a cell. The whole room is dark, and only a few girls occupy the other cells here. Nothing more than four walls and bars on the doors. Not that it matters since there’s not enough light to see anything else.
A small thin mattress is on the floor in the corner, and a ratty blanket on top, but I don’t want to touch anything. There’s no way of knowing what or who has touched these before me, so I sit with my head against the bars.
Sometime later, a few guards come in and bring trays of food.
Nothing extravagant—a piece of bread, an orange, and water.
I don’t want to eat any of it, but if I want any kind of chance to get out of here, I need energy.
It takes me way too long to eat the bread and the orange.
It all sours in my stomach, and I have to fight to keep it down.
I sip on the water, wanting to pace myself.
My thoughts go back to the other night with Emris.
Things were finally good between us. Our relationship had developed into something much more than I knew was even possible.
He made me feel safe and loved, despite everything else.
But now, I know I love him. I want nothing more than to see him walk through that door right now.
But he isn’t. All I can hope for is that he’s still breathing.
That he has some plan to get me out of here.
Not that long ago, I thought he was the devil. The worst kind of man out there, taking all my freedom from me. But he had no ill intent. He never did. But these men? That’s all they want. To take and hurt, and the odds of me leaving here in one piece are very slim.