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She’ll be alive.
She has to be.
Or I’ll kill every single motherfucker involved.
TWENTY-EIGHT
dakota
No one tells a person that long protracted terror is exhausting.
Especially the fight to keep it from touching certain parts of you, to take certain teeth and let them lacerate without debilitating.
I can’t really move, but I don’t need the physical to become the psychological.
All I have right now is my mind. I’m not giving in, no matter how tired I am.
No matter how much I hurt.
And I do.
I ache all over. Worse, there’s a guard who likes to touch me. If I could, I’d kick him, bite him. I’d cut his dick off and stomp on it before shoving it down his throat.
But I stay silent. Docile.
It half kills me.
I figure if they think I’ve given up, there might be a chance to escape. They haven’t drugged me again, so that’s a plus, but I don’t know if it’s because they want me to scream when the time comes.
To feel.
Those thoughts are terrifying.
All I can do is sit. My limbs cramp up from not moving, from sitting in a weird and awkward position, from trying to think of ways to escape. To hope against everything that not only did Harley play the message I left for Smith, but that he let Orion know. And that Orion understood I meant it for him.
Daddy.
At some point last night, I imagined him here. Then… then I thought I heard someone else talking to me. Saying horrible things. And I think… I think I knew the voice.
I have no idea how long I’ve been down here, but it can’t be more than a day because the stabbing pains of hunger have just started to cut through the knots and grease of the panic and horror. I don’t even think I could eat, but my body’s demanding fuel.
Thirst is different. It comes and goes, and the need for a drop of water drives me almost insane. My tongue feels too big for my mouth. When I pass out on occasion, I dream of water and wake up thirstier than before.
A sound makes every single fiber in me spring into high alert. Footsteps approach.
It’s not the guard; these are lighter, more assured, like whoever it is can’t wait to get to the prize.
I’m betting the prize is me.
A sigh floats down.
“Looking a little worse for the wear, Dakota.”
It’s him. The one who took me.
Brutus.
I don’t know where the others are. But I’m glad he’s alone. At least I think he’s alone.
