Finishing my shower, I get dressed and fall face first into bed. It doesn’t take long before I’m drifting off, after having been sleep deprived for so many days.
My nightmares are filled with Victoria’s cries and screams. And even in my dreams I’m helpless to save her.
CHAPTER 11
VICTORIA
IT’S DAY NINE…or maybe ten. I can’t keep track anymore. They were feeding me regular meals to keep my strength up for the torture I’ve been enduring, but now they’ve stopped giving me nourishment altogether.
My belly aches with hunger but roils with sickness whenever I even think of food.
I think I’m dying.
No. IknowI’m dying.
It’s only a matter of time before my body finally gives out.
It hurts to move, but most of all it hurts to breathe. I feel like I’m drowning even when I’m not even near the water. My lungs rattle a deathly sound with every inhale and exhale, and I fear I might die a slow and agonizing death from dry drowning or suffocation.
When I hear footsteps outside of my room, my body freezes into stone. Every time that door opens, only one of two things happen — I get to eat or I get tortured.
And since they haven’t been worried about me eating…that can only mean one thing.
The familiar squeak of the bar being lifted sends me into a tailspin as my mind tries to cope with the fact that the torture is about to begin. The smell of urine fills the room as I lose my bladder from pure, undiluted fear.
A low, keening sound rises from the back of my throat, and I curl up into a ball on the blanket on the cold, concrete floor. Not again. I can’t endure another session. And even though I’ve mentally told myself the same exact thing the past few times it’s happened, I seriously think this could be my last.
My body is ready to stop fighting. My brain is telling me to give up.
No one is coming for me. So why should I even try to live? What am I holding out for? Simplymoretorture?
Heavy footfalls carry someone across the room until they stop in front of my makeshift bed on the floor. My body shivers uncontrollably from the cold, dampness of the room and from the fear of what’s about to happen to me.
“Look at me,” a deep voice with an Irish lilt demands.
Slowly, I open my eyes and turn my head. Brody, Nolan’s oldest son, is standing before me wearing dark jeans and a black long-sleeved shirt. He’s tall and muscular with reddish-brown hair and hazel eyes. But I can see the hatred for me in his gaze as he looks upon me with disgust.
He bends down and reaches for me, but I slink away from his touch. Scoffing, he stands upright and takes a step back. “I can make all of this stop, Victoria,” he says after a beat.
Make it stop?
I stare up at him, unable to speak through the tremors wracking my body.
“I can put an end to all of your suffering. Right now,” he offers.
What’s the catch?is all I can think in my head. There must be one.
As if reading my mind, Brody tells me, “My father gave me the choice for your fate. He said if I want you as my wife, I can have you.” He leans down and calmly swipes my damp hair away from my face. This time I don’t move a muscle. “I want to try you out for myself first. See if I want to save you.” His hand trails down my face and cups my breast through my threadbare shirt. “Give yourself to me willingly, and I’ll think about saving your life.”
A silent sob wracks my body as he pinches my nipple.Hard.
With all the strength I can muster, I knock his hand away and glare at him. “I’d…rather…die,” I spit out at him through clenched teeth.
He stands and glares down at me with abhorrence. “Suit yourself, whore.” He snaps his fingers, and two guards appear instantly through the open doorway. “It’s time for your nexttreatment.”
I scream and fight and bite and kick, but my body is too weak to do any damage as the two brutes effortlessly pick me up and carry me out of the room.
As they carry me down the hall to the room that I have dubbed thetorture room, all I can think is that this time I’m going to inhale the water and end this nightmare.
