me cry. It’s something small I’m holding on to, the one thing I’m not going to give up easily.
A key enters the lock, the mechanical of it fills my ears. The door is unlocked and opened a moment later, and one of the men who has been guarding me appears in the doorway.
“Time to come out and take a piss,” he growls. “Unless you prefer to go in the bucket?”
It doesn’t warrant a response. Pushing myself off the dirty mattress, I get up and walk toward him on shaky legs. He hasn’t touched me, other than jerking me around by my arm when he takes me out of the cell. Which I’m thankful for, but the way he looks at me is enough to make shivers of disgust skate down my spine. Like I’m some piece of hanging meat that he’ll eventually be able to take a bite of.
Creep.
He drags me down the hall and shoves me into the bathroom. I close the door behind me, grateful for the privacy. There is no window in here either, so it’s not like I can go anywhere. I do my business quickly, so I have a minute to wash up, and because the last thing I want is for him to walk in on me with my pants down. I splash water on my face until he opens the door and wraps a mammoth hand around my arm, tugging me out of the closet-sized bathroom.
“Dinner will be here in a little bit. My men eat first, and you’ll get the leftovers… if we have some. Unless you want to eat now? I’ll let you sit on my lap, and you can eat all you want.” He grins, and the look in his eyes tells me he is anything but joking. He’s serious and while I’m hungry. I’m not hungry enough to take him up on that offer.
“I’ll wait,” I mumble.
The guy starts laughing like the whole thing is funny to him. I feel like anything but. I feel like screaming, crying, and destroying this place with my bare hands if I could.
His laughter is suddenly cut off when the sound of some commotion carries through the long hallway. I can’t see anything, the brute’s oversized body blocking my view, but I hear the ringing of guns off in the distance.
What the hell?
“Fucking shit!” The guy with the death grip on my upper arm growls as he starts walking faster, dragging me right along with him. He moves me like a rag doll, my legs barely making it possible for me to keep up with him.
Then something hits me. I’m not sure what it is, but I don’t even think. I just react. Normally, I don’t fight him, but something about this moment tells me I should. Digging my heels into the ground, I try to slow him down.
I start struggling in his hold, hoping to get away from him, but all he does is pick me up like I’m a stubborn child. He throws me into my cell, and I land on my back against the cold hard floor. My bones rattle, and the impact knocks the air out of my lungs.
The door is slammed shut before I can get back on my feet, and the guy walks away. It takes me a moment to stand up, but when I do, I rush to the door and hold my ear to it.
For the next few minutes, I hear men fighting, more guns going off, and then silence. When I don’t hear anything at all for a few seconds, I realize that no matter what’s happening, no matter who saves me, good or bad, I need to get out of here.
If they leave me here, I will starve to death in this cell. I can’t die yet. I refuse to let my life amount to this.
“Help! I’m in here, please, help!” I yell at the top of my lungs while banging my fists against the metal door. It rattles only a little bit beneath my harsh raps. “Anyone, please! I’m begging you, please, save me!”
It feels like I’ve been banging on the door forever when I finally hear someone approaching. The footsteps are muffled through the door, but I know whoever it is, isn’t going to be good. The door is unlocked, and I step back toward the center of the room. Even if I wanted to hide, I’d have nowhere to go.
The door swings open, and two large men curiously look into