Chapter 6
CHAPTER SIX
Maya stared down at the twin-sized mattress that God only knew how many women had slept on before her.
Sliding her fingers underneath, she awkwardly maneuvered it until it was upside down.
The bottom was just as disgusting as the top, and she grimaced.
She picked up the sliver of mortar and moved to the top right corner of the mattress.
Digging the sharp end into the fabric, she wiggled it back and forth until it cut a tiny hole in the material.
Excitement surged through her veins, and she dragged the mortar downward, using sawing motions to cut away at it.
Once she had a tear about a foot long, she turned at a right angle and continued to cut until she had a large rectangular piece of cloth.
She tore a smaller strip off, about an inch wide, then tied it around the base of the mortar sliver.
She kept adding layers until the cloth handle was easier to grip and wield.
When she was done, she flipped the mattress over to conceal the missing fabric, then stood and grabbed up the mortar.
It would serve as a makeshift shank in case the man came back, but she had other plans for it at the moment.
Readjusting her grip on the mortar, she crossed to the door. There was no window, just a single slab of steel that probably weighed close to a hundred pounds. But that wasn't the important part. What mattered was that the door swung inward, so the hinges were on her side.
She examined them, studying the way the pins secured the door in place.
The pins were about four inches long, and there was one at the top, middle, and bottom of the door.
If she could work those free, she could potentially move the door and escape.
It was a long shot, but it was the only opening she had.
She didn't delude herself into thinking that it would be an easy task. But it was her only option at the moment, and she refused to just sit here and wait for the man to come back.
Staring at the door, she decided that the top pin was going to be the hardest. Even standing next to it, the pin was still several inches above her head.
The head of the pin was flat, but there was a tiny space between the head and where it rested on the hinge.
She wedged the sharp end of the sliver under the head and wiggled.
Nothing. She tried again, but it refused to move.
She let out a frustrated sigh and shook her head.
Damn it! This had to work.
Maya repositioned the sliver, angling it upward and bumping it with the heel of her hand.
Her heart jumped in her chest as the pin slid upward.
It was no more than a millimeter, but it was better than nothing.
She kept going for what felt like forever.
The pin was wedged tightly in there, and it was stiff with disuse.
Her shoulders and upper back screamed from the effort of constantly holding her arms over her head.
After what had to be more than an hour, the pin was only halfway extracted from the hinge but she didn't dare let go. She refused to sacrifice the progress she’d made.
Her muscles burned with exhaustion and every nerve ending felt like it was on fire.
Her hand was stiff, and blood smeared her fingers where her nails had broken and her skin had been torn ragged from picking at the pin on the door.
It was fight for freedom, or die down here.
It was a fight for freedom, or she would die down here.
When she put it that way, there really wasn’t a choice.
Resolve strengthened, she forced herself to continue. With each minute that passed, the pin moved closer and closer to the top of the hinge, and her hope grew. She wiggled it back and forth, working it upward, and she nearly cried with relief when it finally popped free.
Maya glanced at the pin in her hand. It was such a tiny thing, yet could very well be the deciding factor between life and death.
Every part of her was physically and mentally exhausted, and she took a moment to relax.
Just to be on the safe side, she trudged back to the mattress and stowed the pin, along with the tiny sliver of mortar, underneath.
Although she had put it off as long as possible, she could no longer ignore her body’s pressing needs.
She threw a look of disdain at the bucket in the corner.
She relieved herself, then placed it far away from the bed.
She had just gotten back to the mattress when a thump from the direction of the door made her heart jump in her chest. A metallic click echoed in the room a second before the door swung open.
Fear rose up, threatening to choke her as a large, dark figure filled the doorway.
Backlit from behind, all she could see was the bulk of his huge body.
Without meaning to, she cowered in fear, shrinking away from him until her back hit the hard wall behind her.
She pressed her hands to the cool stone, fighting to stay upright.
The man stepped into the room, then closed and locked the door behind him using a key. Her heart sank as he slipped the key into his pocket then slowly approached. She flicked a quick glance at the mattress. The mortar was underneath, along with the door pin.
Did she risk going for it? As a weapon it would be fairly useless unless the door was open, or she had access to the key.
The likelihood of her incapacitating him enough to get the key in his pocket was slim to none.
She hated feeling helpless, but she was going to have to let this play out for the time being.
His heavy footsteps echoed in her ears, and her pulse increased with every inch he drew closer.
Her lungs constricted and every muscle trembled as he stepped into the light.
The dark shadows outlined his craggy face in stark relief, making him look even more imposing.
Those soulless brown eyes pinned her in place, and she felt frozen, unable to think, unable to move—unable to do anything but drag shallow breaths into her lungs, tight with fear.
He stared at her for what felt like forever before he finally spoke. “Strip.”
Combined with the gravelly voice, it took a few seconds for the word to register in her brain. “W-what?”
“Strip!” he thundered, his words bouncing off the walls.
Panic ricocheted through her, and she shook her head. “Please don't do this, I—”
He took another menacing step forward. Beside his leg, his hand flicked forward and a long blade appeared, glinting in the dim light.
“Oh, God, please…”
Maya clenched her hands into fists as he grabbed her shirt and sank the knife into the fabric, splitting it easily from collar to hem. She shook like a leaf, her mind spinning as she fought to come up with a way to escape. “I… I’ll do it.”
He studied her for a second, then finally nodded.
Bile rose in her throat at the thought of exposing herself to him.
The blood on the mattress caught her eye and she fought back the tears clogging her throat.
She had to find a way out of this. If she could just get him to leave, even for awhile, she might have a chance at getting the door open.
She shrugged out of her ruined shirt and dropped it to the ground next to the mattress. He watched intently as she moved to her pants next, pushing them down until she was in just her bra and underwear.
She glanced up at him, and he jerked his head. “On the bed.”
Her stomach twisted with a combination of revulsion and fear. If she followed his directions, he would rape her or worse. “I—”
His hand shot out, grabbing her biceps and hauling her against him. She gasped, and the stench of his body hit her nostrils. Coupled with the feel of him against her, she fought the urge to gag. “P-please…”
Her feet skimmed the floor as he lifted her bodily and practically slammed her onto the mattress.
The motion sucked the air from her lungs, momentarily stunning her.
Before she could react, he was between her legs, his hands on her.
Fear choked her as he gripped the strap of her bra then jerked it down, exposing her to his view.
He roughly palmed her breast, and she bit her tongue to keep from crying out. He held her in place with one hand on her shoulder, while the other moved south. He cupped her mound outside her panties, and tears burned her eyes. Oh, God… she couldn’t let him do this.
She flailed her left hand toward the edge of the mattress, but her range of motion was limited.
There was no way she could get to the mortar or the pin to stab him.
She had no leverage with him between her thighs, so she was going to have to outsmart him.
His mouth dipped and he captured her nipple in a slobbery kiss that turned her stomach inside out.
In one last-ditch effort, she begged again, trying the only thing she could think of to turn him off. “Please don’t do this. Not now. I… I'm on her period.”
The man halted, his hand hovering just over her underwear, those sinister eyes staring down at her. She forced herself to stay strong, to not cower under his gaze. “Show me.”
Her mouth dropped open a little bit. “What?”
“Show me,” he repeated.
Oh, God. He was testing her, just waiting for her to fail.
What if he found out she’d lied to him? Still trembling, she dipped her hand beneath the waistband of her underwear and brushed her center.
She slowly withdrew it and, keeping her hand in the shadow created by his huge body, held her fingers up to him.
They were ragged and torn from picking at the pin on the door, and she prayed that he wouldn’t be able to see the blood had already dried and begun to flake off. He hesitated so long she thought for sure he would call her bluff.
Suddenly, his weight lifted away as he climbed off the mattress. Without another word, he snatched up her clothes, spun on a heel and strode toward the door. She watched as he unlocked it, then slammed and re-locked it behind him.
Silence fell in his absence and it was somehow both the most welcome and most intimidating sound she’d ever heard in her life.
She wasn’t sure how long she lay there before relief welled up and she let out a sob.
That had been too close. She didn't know if she would survive a second time.
One thing was certain—he would be back again, and soon.
Sending up a silent prayer for strength, she tucked herself back into her bra then, climbing to her hands and knees, she crawled over to the edge of the mattress and fished out the piece of mortar. She didn't have a second to lose.