Page 3 of Possessive

He stepped over to hang the towel back up on the hook. For those few seconds, he had no hand on me, or on the chain.

I stepped back towards the cage. If I was quick enough, I could scurry back inside.

He leaned over, grabbed a section of chain and pulled it, almost tripping me over.

I grabbed the outside of the cage to keep from falling on my face.

"Where do you think you're going, bitch?" He sounded amused. "You really are feisty today." He grabbed the back of my neck and pushed me forward until I was bent over the top of the cage. The cold metal dug into my chest and stomach, rough with wear and rust.

I pressed myself into it as though somehow I could slip between the bars and back into the cage. Hell was better than what he was about to do to me. What he'd done so many times before. I used to fight back, but I'd learnt the futility of that. The more I fought, the better he liked it.

I squeezed my eyes shut and hoped like hell he'd finish quickly.

The sound of a phone ringing echoed through the basement. It sounded so loud, I flinched. After spending hour upon hour in near silence, noises like that were a shock to my senses.

The ringtone wailed with the words to some rock song, the vocals sung by a woman, as far as I could tell.

“My love was a dark place,

Betrayed, denied, and broken.

I was shattered,

Over and gone.

Over and gone.

So gone.”

"Fuck," Kurt growled.

He pulled his phone out of his pocket and pressed it to his ear. "What?" he snarled. He listened for a few moments before swearing again. "I'm on my way."

He shoved his phone back into his pocket and yanked me back upright. "Fun will have to wait until later." He pushed me back into the cage and slammed the door shut before pulling the key back out of the lock. "Try not to miss me too much." He smirked.

I'd miss him like I'd miss a bullet in my brain.

I scrambled back into the corner and curled up as small as I could. The cage was so filthy, I might as well have not washed myself at all. I couldn't avoid touching it, but I touched as little of it as I could.

I watched through slitted eyes as he hurried out the door and locked it behind him. It was a reprieve for now, but Kurt Lasalle was a man of his word. If he said he'd come back to finish what he started, then he would.

Tears were useless. Instead I let myself slip into my numb place, where I stopped thinking and feeling too much. I don't know how many times I'd been grateful to my training for allowing me to switch off like this. If it wasn't for that, I would have broken a long, long time ago.

CHAPTER 2

MINA

I huddled with one eye open, watching the door while I let myself drift off again.

The doze wasn't deep enough to dream, not this time. Sometimes that was a mercy. The nightmares left me wanting to scratch my own skin off.

But the dreams were the worst. They helped me escape this hell, but when I woke here, I shattered all over again. Each time felt like a cruel joke. One my brain played on me over and over.

I couldn't blame my subconscious for wanting to take me out of here. It was trying to help me. I wished it would stop. All of it. The dreams, the nightmare and the reality.

Sounds from outside the room brought me fully awake.

Voices. Crashes and scraping from above my head. If I thought hard enough, I could remember being brought into the building and down some stairs. Upstairs was vague, a hazy memory seen through sedated eyes.

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