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23
Roan
He broke my jaw.
That fucker actually did it. I couldn’t believe it!
I opened and closed my mouth carefully, relieved when the tendons complied. Ok. Not broken. He just bruised the shit out of it. No more blowjobs for him, that was for sure.
How was it so cold in here? And why was it so dark? I couldn’t even see my hand in front of my face.
A sliver of light across the room barely illuminated anything, but it wasn’t where I remembered the bathroom door being. That was weird. And it smelled different. I should have smelled cigarette smoke and stale, mildewy air, but instead it was… dank.
As soon as I swung my legs down off the bed, there was a rush of heavy metal links dropping to the floor. I didn’t know which to be more concerned about — the chain, or the fact the floor itself was concrete again, not the scratchy motel carpeting.
Dropping into a squat, I grabbed my ankle and swore the second I felt a leather cuff attached to a thick chain. There was no escaping that. Following the links upward, I groped along in the dark to see what I was attached to. My hands slid up a rough, metal pole, at least six inches in diameter. Following the pole down again, my fingers scraped along bolts in the cement beneath my feet.
A basement. I was in a basement, chained to a fucking support post like a rabid dog.
“Sasha! Where are you?” I yanked on the chain, metal on metal clanging in my ears. “You son of a bitch! Get down here!”
Footsteps sounded overhead, along with the floorboards squeaking, but I couldn’t tell if he was coming or going.
“I know you can hear me, asshole!” I shouted upward, smacking the chain against the pole as hard as I could.
The footsteps clomped off in another direction. The house above me got quiet. Guess the answer was going.
“I’m going to strangle you with this fucking thing,” I seethed, sliding the chain between my hands, trying to estimate what sort of range I had.
The answer was not much.
I could reach the cot he’d so graciously dumped me on, along with a random toilet in the middle of the basement that I tripped over. That was it. I had about six feet or so, which meant I wouldn’t get anywhere near the stairs or whatever windows might be down here.
It was better than the dog kennel, I suppose, but I was freezing. Shivering against the damp chill, I shuffled back to the cot and slipped under the blanket, grateful it was at least thicker, not to mention cleaner, than the one in the kennel. Apparently Sasha didn’t feel the need to put my t-shirt back on before leaving me down here, not like it would have done a whole lot of good.
Sasha. Goddamn it!
I thought I was getting somewhere with him. I mean, Jesus Christ. The motel door was open! It was right there! And like a moron, Istayed, because the scared little voice in my head held me back. I could have outran him, but I didn’t even try. And this is what he thinks of me?
I hadn’t given him any reason tonottrust me. Hell, I even offered to get him whatever it was he wanted from my dad. And let us not forget about the blowjob he refused to acknowledge.
Hot, angry tears slipped out of the corners of my eyes. So much for my brilliant plan of winning him over. I was officially out of ideas and I’d lost the one tiny chance I had of escaping because I didn’t want to risk getting beaten again. Waiting to die was the only thing I could do and the last thing I wanted.
“What do you want?!” I screamed at the ceiling. I don’t know if I was talking to Sasha or God. At the moment SashawasGod. He controlled everything in my existence and I fucking hated him for it.
* * *
The soundof keys jingling woke me.
I sat up quickly and tried to assess where the noise was coming from. Everything echoed so strangely down here, it was hard to tell.
A door opened somewhere and someone clomped down the stairs, flicking on a light as they went.
Wincing, I covered my eyes with my hand. They were still burning from my pathetic tears earlier and the light didn’t help. “It’s about time, you fucking asshole.”
I smelled French fries a second before a paper bag landed in my lap. Squinting, I cracked an eye open, surprised to see Ivan standing there and not Sasha.
“Oh, sorry,” I said, clearing my throat. “I thought you were the other guy.”
