Chapter 27
Chapter Twenty-Seven
AVA
Ididn’t know how long I laid there, but the longer I did, the more the room closed around me.
The light flickered often, leaving me in the pitch black for seconds that lasted an eternity.
Suddenly I was young again and thrust into that basement, my nails breaking against the door, then just as quickly, the sensation was gone.
Over and over, this continued until I squeezed my eyes tight.
All my years of training fled, leaving me as helpless as a female character in a bad horror movie.
Not that I could do much. My hands kept falling asleep because the binds were so tight and there was no hope of freeing my ankles from the rope that bound them.
I dozed, the exhaustion of the last few hours getting to me, but the sound of a lock jolted me from my sleep. Raising my eyes toward the door, I watched as the flirty guy from Emerson’s house strolled into the room.
“Hello cutie.” He waved a bandaged hand. “Remember me?”
“You’re vile,” I spouted as he stooped down in front of me.
“If I’d known your tits were that nice, I would have fucked you in his kitchen.”
Anger, like boiling lava, bubbled in my veins. “When he finds me, I’ll make sure he takes your entire hand this time.”
“Oh, he won’t find you, Ava.” He stood and pulled a syringe from his pocket.
I bucked and struggled to get away from him, but he put his palm over my face, holding it into the mattress. Another sting of the needle and I couldn’t keep my eyes open anymore.
“It’s time to get you ready for your new owner.” His last words bounced through my consciousness until they faded with everything else.
Pitch enveloped me. Something pinned my body.
My hands were to my side, my legs straight out.
I could wiggle and pick my head up about an inch, but nothing more before I hit something solid.
I turned my head back and forth but could see nothing.
My chest seized, my breaths so shallow, my heart pounding so rapidly I thought I was dying.
I was trapped. In the dark. Terror crawled from my belly, its sharp claws leaving a trail until it scraped through my throat and out of my mouth with a screech I didn’t recognize. I turned my arms over and pressed my palms to the solidness, detecting wood grains.
A box. I was in some kind of wooden box.
A compact, dark box. My mind raced in competition with my heart and all stability I had left whooshed from my body as horror replaced it.
My screams were loud. My tears as wet as the blood from my nails that were splitting.
With panic and terror encompassing me, I continued to scream until my throat was raw and my voice was hoarse.
When the screams stopped, my hold on my body broke and panic swept through it, triggering my body’s preservation mode, and I blacked out.