Page 15 of Breaking the Code

Time ceases to mean anything. Everything falls away, leaving me with nothing to hold on to but the pain. Unconsciousness creeps in like a fog. It crawls through me, rolling over everything until darkness takes me.

Flickering light filters into my brain as everything comes back to me like a tsunami.

Sight.

Sound.

Pain.

There’s so much fucking pain. A wave of it crashes over me until darkness threatens once again. As I succumb, Samuel’s face appears before mine.

“You will pay for all the fun I missed out on because you took a nap,” he growls, pinching my face.

His hand squeezes my cheeks until my teeth slices open the tender flesh of my cheeks. The blood that fills my mouth makes me sick. Bile churns in my gut. I know if I puke, he’ll punish me further.

He pulls me up to a seated position. His face pushes into my space. Our noses brush one another, and he snarls, “Get on your feet and put on some fucking clothes. We’re about to land. I have business to attend to.”

He sweeps out of the room, and I break down as soon as the door slams behind him. I give myself over to all the shit that rages through me. I let myself feel it all.

The door rattles in its frame as a fist pounds against it.

“Get dressed!”

Swallowing past the lump in my throat, I scramble to my feet, and emotion hits me like a ton of bricks as realization sets in. He didn’t miss out on any fun. I can feel his fun running out of my body and down my thighs.

My chin wobbles as much as my legs on the way to the bathroom. I sit down on the toilet, turn on the shower, and wait. I force my mind to remain blank. I can’t let what’s happened to me take up residence in my brain. I’ll never make it out of this room if I do.

Steam billows and fills the room, making the air heavy and breathing difficult. I step under the spray and choke on a gasp. Hot water pours over the wounds that litter my body like molten hot lava.

I let my forehead fall forward to rest against the shower stall, and my eyes close.

“Deep breaths,” I whisper, softly. I don’t know if I heard it with my ears or if it’s only in my head.

I steel myself, my chin wobbling again, and I shut off the water. Keeping my eyes averted from the mirror, unable to chance the image being burned into my psyche, I leave the bathroom, grabbing a towel on the way out.

When I’m dressed—multiple shirts, a sweater, and a blazer to pad and protect my body as much as possible—I walk out into the seating area of the plane.

“It’s about fucking time,” Samuel says.

“I’m sorry, sir,” I whimper as my back presses into the seat.

Samuel smiles and chuckles.

Once on the ground, we walk off the plane. I glance around, noticing a car waiting on the tarmac in front of the iconic backdrop of the London skyline. It’s the closest I’ve been to my homeland since being torn from it on the day my mother died. I long for the Highlands, for the heather. I yearn to walk the halls of the home I shared with her, to spend time in the last place I ever saw her.

I shut down those thoughts. They will do me no good. They’ll not help me. All they’ll do is cause me more pain, and God knows I don’t need any more pain in my life.

Samuel hustles me into the backseat, shoving me into the car’s doorframe. A yelp from me draws a chuckle from the sadistic bastard who owns me. Settling into the car, I dash tears from my face as I stare out the window at the passing scenery as we head into the city.

The car slows to a stop outside an abandoned factory. It looks ready to crumble. The spalling brick soft and dusty in spots and nearly missing in others. A truck at the loading dock we park near. Our driver gets out of the car, stopping to sweep the area while he buttons his suit jacket. He opens Samuel’s door, but Samuel yanks it closed again.

Samuel grabs my arm. His fingers bite into my bicep as he growls in my ear. “You are to be seen and not fucking heard. Do you understand?”

I nod, and my Adam’s apple slides up and down.

“I mean it. You open your fucking trap, you make even the smallest noise, and I’ll put you on that goddamn truck with the rest of the merchandise,” he says.

He drags me out of the car behind him. I follow silently and as meekly as possible. I haven’t spent all these years enduring pain and humiliation and degradation to be sold off now.

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