Damn it. Damn it all to hell.
I gripped the bottom hem of Silas’s shirt until my nails dug painfully into the palms of my hands. I squeezed harder, letting the rush of pain roll through me, quelling the demons stirring and buzzing for their deaths. But I couldn’t lose my head. I needed to think logically, act rationally, plot, and strategize to survive. Lashing out now and not complying would surely get me killed. And I’d be damned if I didn’t make their heads roll before my time.
I ripped the shirt over my head and whipped it into the man’s face—the one closest to me. The same asshole from the train. His beady eyes roamed my body, glinting with lust as they settled over my breasts.
“Boss man is one lucky son of a bitch. Isn’t that right, Victor?” He raised a hand toward my nipple, and I blocked it.
“Don’t touch me.”
The other bastard cocked his gun.
“Remember what I said. You will do as you’re told.”
I closed my eyes as his fingers groped and squeezed, painfully tugging at and flicking my piercings. Knowing there was nothing I could do then, I withdrew inside my mind, compartmentalizing the emotions pricking from beneath my skin. I pushed it all into the dark until I couldn’t feel his grimy hands on me. Either because he’d stopped, or I’d just become numb. For as long as I could remember, I’d had to swallow the advances of men and even women. I’d learned how to pack it away and shove it into the dark recesses of my thoughts. I supposed one day, it would all burst out like a dam. But that day wasn’t today.
“Take it off.” The sharp tone of his voice pulled me from my hidden place, and my eyes snapped open, meeting his face, where his gaze was fixed on my bottom half. “Off. Now.”
Soon. I’d take everything from him. From both of them.
Once the garment hit the tile, I used my foot to slide my thong behind me. And before he could make a move or another sinister request, I swung my leg over the side of the tub and stepped inside. As I suspected, the water was fucking cold as ice, the chill seeping straight to my bones. His features twisted with morbid amusement when he caught me wincing, and it only served to kindle the flames of vengeance.
Little did he know that although uncomfortable, icy water and I were old friends.
“Sit and get cleaned up. You look like hell.”
They both leaned on a wall and watched as I sat, submerging and lying back until I was covered completely. Lifting my chin, I noticed a large water stain on the ceiling and closed my eyes. Focusing on its shape, I imagined I was anywhere but in this dank bathroom with these two bastards.
In a flash, I realized my mistake of letting my guard down and not keeping an eye on the enemy. One of the men grabbed a fistful of my hair and submerged my head underwater while the other held me down by my waist. I clawed and kicked, desperately seeking to break the surface and take in air. But it seemed like the harder I fought, the stronger their hold became. My lungs burned and protested the lack of oxygen, and I started to feel disoriented, not knowing how long they planned to hold me down.
Were they going to drown me?
Maybe if I played dead, they’d let me go. Their boss wanted me alive. It’s what they’d said. This was just a mind-fuck. A means to make me break. But they had the wrong girl. I didn’t break.
Calling on every ounce of strength I possessed, I stopped thrashing and clawing, as it only caused me to exert more energy and exhaust the last of my oxygen reserves. I didn’t want to pass out and be at the mercy of these assholes.
The fingers in my hair loosened just enough to quell the stinging until he yanked me out of the water and kept tugging, pulling my body over the edge, without a second to catch my footing, until I crumpled onto the hard tile. I gasped and coughed while they laughed uncontrollably. A tremor rippled through me, and it wasn’t because I was cold.
“Come here, sweetheart,” he muttered as if he were going to give me a chance to get to my feet. My drenched body slid across the floor as he pulled me toward the toilet. With his grip still firm on my hair, he yanked my head back, lips against my ear.
“I don’t think boss man will mind it too much if we break this one in. Take her for a ride, and fuck the attitude from that pretty little mouth of hers.”
“Fuck you,” I seethed behind clenched teeth. He pulled back harder as if he was trying to snap my neck. Pain shot down my spine.
“Oh, I believe it’s you I’m gonna fuck,” he taunted, hauling me to my feet and forcibly bending me over the dirty toilet. “Keep that ass up for me, baby.” Bile rose up my esophagus and threatened to come out of my nose as he spoke and smoothed his hands over my ass.
“Don’t be greedy, Felix. Hurry up. I want my turn.”
The bastard behind me unzipped his pants, and I made the mistake of glancing over my shoulder to catch him stroking his dick with one hand as he steadied my hips with the other.
Time was up.
The moment his tip grazed me, I grabbed each end of the tank lid, anticipating its weight, and pulled it off, rearing back and striking him on the side of the head. He fell with a loud thud and began seizing on the floor while his pants were still around his ankles.
Pathetic.
“Bitch!” the other one yelped, fumbling for the gun he’d set on the vanity. But I was faster and cracked the porcelain over his head. He had the nerve to still be conscious, a hand stretched out in my direction as if that would stop me from snuffing the light out of his eyes or caving in his face. These men were scum. Vile humans who took, tainted, and maimed because they could. Hypocritical of me or not, the laundry list of lives I’d taken belonged to men just like these sons of bitches. There wasn’t, nor would there ever be, an ounce of regret in my conscience.
“Y-you…c-crazy…” Blood spittle reached my face as I knelt over his sorry ass, returning his mangled scowl with a grin.
