Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 82199 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 411(@200wpm)___ 329(@250wpm)___ 274(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82199 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 411(@200wpm)___ 329(@250wpm)___ 274(@300wpm)
Why, when he had an untold number of unused rooms above, did he keep me locked in filth? Surely, it would be to the molester’s advantage to have me clean and hygienic? Surely, I had rights as a prisoner to basic facilities and care?
Chewing on the inside of my cheek, I stewed in the dark.
I need a weapon.
Next time he comes for me, I’ll stab him instead of blow him.
I’d been too accommodating, too weak.
If I didn’t fight, this would be my life now. Abused and discarded. Pulled from the darkness to perform a sexual act, then shoved back in the moment I’d pleasured him.
My hands curled into fists.
I’m done.
I need a new plan.
As my mind whirled with concepts of freedom, I listened to the faint twittering of birds outside. While they sang, I picked up the tiny shattered pieces of glass from my broken cell phone, looking for a shard that could be used as a blade.
He’d taken the two devices last night.
What had he done with them? Would the signal still work even in pieces? Were people still coming to find me?
Josh will be looking. I know my brother. He’ll be furious I haven’t checked in.
My teeth sank deeper into my cheek in worry.
Wait.
Didn’t I tell him to wait five days before raising hell?
How long had it been?
My mind was scrambled—second-guessing the hours I’d spent in this godforsaken basement. Three days or four? Two or five? Without access to the sun’s cycle, it all seemed the same.
While running my thumb along a fragment of glass, the sound of the door opening wrenched my head up. The light bulb overhead blazed bright, making me squint and cower in the sudden flood of illumination.
Then he stepped in.
Once again, he had two plates. A mismatch of food like before. A peach this time, along with a hard-looking bread roll, raw carrot complete with its green top, and what seemed like a ramekin filled with honey.
My stomach growled, perking up at the thought of being fed. That was the only part of me pleased to see him. All other parts hissed in warning to leave me the hell alone.
Last night, after his rare show of compassion by leaving me alone in the bathroom, gratefulness had cultivated warmer feelings toward him. I’d wondered—just for a second—if my plan at being amiable and obedient was working.
I’d granted him an orgasm without too much hate in my heart. I’d let myself soften as he’d trembled under my hand. I’d had more hope than hate if I was honest...clinging to belief that honesty would get me free.
But once again, I’d been so stupid.
I hadn’t attacked him or fought. I hadn’t cursed or put up any sort of fuss.
I was ridiculous.
I mean, I’d dressed in front of him for goodness sake! I’d allowed him to command me, all because I believed each glimpse he earned of my body, each secret that I shared would slowly grant me his trust. Trust I could use to make my escape.
You’re an idiot, Gem.
A total star at bad decisions.
All that stupid hope and all those stupid plans had blown up spectacularly in my face as he’d hauled me from a perfectly adequate bedroom to a mildew-rotten basement.
I had no more friendly attempts. No more hope that I could appeal to him.
He’d proven he wasn’t normal.
He was dangerous in his unpredictability. Cruel in his brokenness.
And I wasn’t playing this game anymore.
I will get free.
I’ll kill him if I have to.
Making eye contact, he stopped before me and dropped to the floor. Sitting cross-legged didn’t fit his physique or his tight slacks. The abused material strained over his thighs, the stitching pulling apart between his legs. I tried to look away. To refuse the plate as he slid it across the floor to me. I didn’t want to watch him with fascination as well as fear.
His shirt was once again the beige affair with stains and buttons missing. His cuffs were gone, and a hole had begun against his rib cage where his chest burst the threads. He’d somehow taken expensive clothing and turned them into rags. His scruffy jaw and unruly hair down to his shoulders completed the portrayal. The only thing about him that didn’t scream destitution and loneliness were his eyes.
Nondescript in color, they were dark enough to blend with his pupils, leaving his stare almost supernatural. They gleamed with obsidian thoughts, coal-black with opinions, ice-cold with secrets.
“Eat.” He cocked his chin at the plate.
I crossed my arms and leaned against the wall. “If I eat, I’ll need a bathroom again.” I gave him a nasty smile. “Cause and effect and all.”
“And I told you, you already have a bathroom.” Looking over his shoulder, he glanced at the bucket. “You’ll become accustomed to it soon enough.”
“But that’s the thing.” I bared my teeth. “I don’t want to become accustomed. No person should. I’m a person, not an animal. I’m a girl—”