through his jeans. I took the towel and wrapped it around my body, hiding it from his depraved eyes. Grabbing my arm he pulled me forward and we walked through another hallway, this one brightly lit, with individual cells on either side. Ahead of me I could hear a woman whimpering as the bed below her creaked with each heavy thrust delivered to her by a grunting, straining man. I couldn’t help but look when we passed, and I was sickened by the ugly, fat, grey-haired brute who was holding down a young, tiny blonde against the bed.
She was turned in my direction, her face expressionless, not an ounce of emotion in her hollow eyes. My stomach knotted in disgust and horror. How could anyone get off on this? What the fuck had I gotten myself into? I wretched, and vomit came up to my throat, burning it.
The man beside me hit me hard against the side of the head, drawing my attention away from the disgusting sight, and diminishing my nausea. I fought the urge to cry. He drug me forward and opened a cage at the far end of the hall.
“Please, get me out of here! Help me! Help me!” I begged him, grabbing his arm and blocking the door of the cell. His thick arm pushed me back and onto the bed.
His lip curled into a vicious snarl as he held me to the bed. “I should break you now, whore,” he growled menacingly through his teeth, his hips pressing forward into mine, his cock still stiff beneath his jeans. He grabbed my hand and pressed it against his stiffness before shaking his head and lifting himself off of me. Tears streamed freely from my eyes as he walked out, slamming the cage door closed behind him.
My mind revolted from reality, and swept me away into daydreams about Jacob. His strong and powerful arms holding me safely to him. His lips upon my own, and his deep blue eyes that pierced into my soul. By my own admission there was something about his bad boy ways that had drawn me in so intensely. But now, fear for my life and future left me to wonder if I could ever look at him the same.
He was dangerous. His life was dangerous. If I made it out of here, would my mind ever be able to look at him without seeing flashbacks of the darkness? An image of the blonde from down the hall flashed through my mind. I could still hear the old man grunting and panting as the broken woman below him lay, dying inside. That would be me, I feared, broken and lifeless. It was in this moment that all sense of right and wrong was released from my conscious. There was only one thing to do now, and that was to fight, to the death if necessary, because it was not only my body but my soul at stake. I sobbed softly for the last time, my heart was growing cold.
Chapter 11
Gathering what strength I had was an ordeal in itself, but there was no option for failure. Examining each inch of my cell I found that there was very little to consider, the room was essentially bare, minus a mattress that was covered simply by a sheet and a single pillow. It wasn’t much to work with, but, recalling the decayed mattresses I had seen at one time or another, I knew that there was at least one potential weapon in my cell.
Inspecting the fabric I found what I was looking for: a minute tear that would make creating a hold a much easier task. I could get only my finger into the small hole, but I spent the next twenty five minutes forcing the hole larger and larger. The fabric was tough and didn’t give easily, but my efforts were paying off. Another five minutes and I managed to squeeze my hand into the hole, I had covered myself with the sheet so my efforts would be hidden, should anyone be watching or come by without my noticing. I reached down into the mattress and felt exactly what I was looking for, the cold coil of metal that might be my one and only chance of escape.
It wasn’t easy, the metal was soldered at the ends,
She was turned in my direction, her face expressionless, not an ounce of emotion in her hollow eyes. My stomach knotted in disgust and horror. How could anyone get off on this? What the fuck had I gotten myself into? I wretched, and vomit came up to my throat, burning it.
The man beside me hit me hard against the side of the head, drawing my attention away from the disgusting sight, and diminishing my nausea. I fought the urge to cry. He drug me forward and opened a cage at the far end of the hall.
“Please, get me out of here! Help me! Help me!” I begged him, grabbing his arm and blocking the door of the cell. His thick arm pushed me back and onto the bed.
His lip curled into a vicious snarl as he held me to the bed. “I should break you now, whore,” he growled menacingly through his teeth, his hips pressing forward into mine, his cock still stiff beneath his jeans. He grabbed my hand and pressed it against his stiffness before shaking his head and lifting himself off of me. Tears streamed freely from my eyes as he walked out, slamming the cage door closed behind him.
My mind revolted from reality, and swept me away into daydreams about Jacob. His strong and powerful arms holding me safely to him. His lips upon my own, and his deep blue eyes that pierced into my soul. By my own admission there was something about his bad boy ways that had drawn me in so intensely. But now, fear for my life and future left me to wonder if I could ever look at him the same.
He was dangerous. His life was dangerous. If I made it out of here, would my mind ever be able to look at him without seeing flashbacks of the darkness? An image of the blonde from down the hall flashed through my mind. I could still hear the old man grunting and panting as the broken woman below him lay, dying inside. That would be me, I feared, broken and lifeless. It was in this moment that all sense of right and wrong was released from my conscious. There was only one thing to do now, and that was to fight, to the death if necessary, because it was not only my body but my soul at stake. I sobbed softly for the last time, my heart was growing cold.
Chapter 11
Gathering what strength I had was an ordeal in itself, but there was no option for failure. Examining each inch of my cell I found that there was very little to consider, the room was essentially bare, minus a mattress that was covered simply by a sheet and a single pillow. It wasn’t much to work with, but, recalling the decayed mattresses I had seen at one time or another, I knew that there was at least one potential weapon in my cell.
Inspecting the fabric I found what I was looking for: a minute tear that would make creating a hold a much easier task. I could get only my finger into the small hole, but I spent the next twenty five minutes forcing the hole larger and larger. The fabric was tough and didn’t give easily, but my efforts were paying off. Another five minutes and I managed to squeeze my hand into the hole, I had covered myself with the sheet so my efforts would be hidden, should anyone be watching or come by without my noticing. I reached down into the mattress and felt exactly what I was looking for, the cold coil of metal that might be my one and only chance of escape.
It wasn’t easy, the metal was soldered at the ends,
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