There's nothing I could've done, though.
You didn't have to let the psychopath chain you to the wall and finger you. You certainly didn't have to enjoy it.
Once the first sob starts, it's impossible to stop. The tears might be coming now, but I can't tell as I stand under the spray.
When I get out of here, I have to see Emilio's wife. I have to tell her I'm sorry I couldn't save him.
I slump against the tile until the water runs cold, and then I pull myself together.
If I want to survive this, I have to think smart. I have to be aware of what's going on. Grief can wait.
I wrap a towel tightly around my body and step into the other room. On the bed is a plate of food and a glass of water, perched on a wooden tray like this is some luxury hotel stay.
Even though I want to throw the food at Noah's head the next time I see him, I know that isn't the smart action right now. I need to eat the food, then I need to start thinking about everything else I have to do if I want to get out of here.
He's not going to let me go without a fight. And trying to kill him when he's not fully distracted isn't working.
But there was no ignoring the boner he had while his fingers were buried in me.
That's something I can work with.
I've never been one to use my body to get ahead, but if using it is what's going to keep me alive, then I'm going to try to channel the most sexual person I've ever been.
After I finish eating, I flop back on the bed and stare up at the ceiling, equal parts tension and relief flooding through me. I don't know where I am right now or what's going to happen, but I'm not buried under the expectations of my family either. I'm not trying to be the person they want me to be and then never being able to live up to it.
I don't have to pretend to be someone I'm not here.
I also don't know where I am or what I'm going to do beyond sleep and trying to think through the best way to seduce Noah.
\\\*
The sun is just starting to stream through the curtains the next morning when I get out of bed, get cleaned up, and head straight for the closet. There are all kinds of clothing in there, some of it skimpy, some of it the clothing I would wear to lounge.
I pick out a tiny black dress that's more lace than silk. I don't know what Noah was thinking when he had someone put this in here, but it's going to work.
I slip into the dress, fighting to get my boobs in the right position.
There's the sound of scraping on the other side of the door as I fall back onto the bed, linking my hands together behind my head.
My heart races, blood rushing in my ears, as the door opens and Noah steps into the room.
His gaze rakes down my body as I roll onto my side and look at him. Lust shines bright in his eyes, the front of his pants tenting.
I get up from the bed, making sure my legs spread, showing off my pussy for a moment before I stand and tug the dress back down.
He closes the door as I make my way to him, but I don't hear the lock engage.
Perfect.
I run my hands up his chest as I stop in front of him, then urge him back a step or two. It's all it takes to get close to the little shelf near the door.
The same shelf where I stashed a piece of broken mirror in the middle of the night last night.
I grab the mirror shard and ram it into his shoulder, dragging it down hard as he shouts and shoves me backward.
Blood drips down his arm, and glass cuts into my palm, but I manage to hold onto the mirror.
"You little bitch." He rushes over to me.
