Page 9 of Finish Line

He walks around the corner with a plate of food. It’s just a sandwich, but it has my mouth watering. I don’t wait for him to put it down. I grab it, then shove it in my mouth. Before I swallow the last bite, my legs weaken, and my head swims.

“This is your fault. If you didn’t let that bitch, go, then I wouldn’t have to move you so soon.” Roger tosses the paper plate into the corner.

He inches closer. Remembering my training, I swing low, aiming for his kidneys. The hit lands where I want, but my arms are becoming numb.

Soon, everything goes black.

Cold water thrown over me wakes me from my sleep.

I try to wipe away the water from my face, but I can’t. I look up, and my hands are chained to the ceiling. I shake my ankle and find no chain attached.

My stomach turns violently. I barely have time to lean away so I don’t throw up all over myself. The tainted sandwich comes back up. That’s when I realize I have no clothes on, and my stomach lurches again.

What could he have done while I was like this? I do a quick check to see if anything doesn’t feel right and sigh with relief; I don’t think he touched me. It’s not his style. He’d rather hypnotize me so I’m a willing participant.

Then it hits me. The jacket and my chance of being saved are gone. Dammit!

“What did you do to my clothes?” I seethe, trying my hardest not to scream at him. It wouldn’t solve anything, plus he would enjoy it.

“You don’t need them. It’s not like you’re going anywhere.” His flippant attitude puts me on alert.

Roger circles me, dragging a finger up my arm. “This could have been avoided if you didn’t let the bitch escape.” His knuckles skim up my bare back. “I hope you like your new place.”

He’s getting a kick out of this, just another one of his mind fucks.

The room appears to be the same as the last place, a dingy, damp, moldy basement, but one without a window. Dusty boxes litter the floor. I swear I hear something scuttling around, a rat maybe, and I shiver involuntarily.

The boxes are discarded in a corner and scattered throughout the room in a few places. He probably wants me to find out what’s in them. However, that’s difficult since I’m chained.

“Lovely,” I deadpan.

Roger pulls my hair to tilt my head back. His blown eyes are glassed over. He leans in to intimidate me, like he’s done this to me many times before in the past, then he says something in Latin. My head tingles, and I fight the hold he’s trying to exert over me.

I will not let him hypnotize me, I chant in my head over and over.

Roger’s face screws up, and he growls.

“I guess you can’t hypnotize me anymore.” I smirk and twist my head so he releases his hold.

His whole face reddens. “I knew you lied to me,” he roars and backhands me, hard.

Fuck, that hurt. I taste copper and spit blood on his chest.

His eyes change to those cold soulless ones. “I never should have listened to you,” Roger snarls. “It was a mistake to let him go. You’re never going just to let me do what I want without leverage.” He paces the room, scrubbing his hands through his hair.

He stops pacing and smiles at me.

It sends shivers down my spine.

He shuffles over to me. He taps my face. “This is what happens when you lie to me.”

He pounds on me. I can’t do anything but hang there and take it.

After a while, he stops, and now, my body is tender and sore everywhere, like he took a meat tenderizer to me.

Fuck, I hurt.

He heads to the corner, pulls out another chain bolted into the cement block wall, and clasps it to my ankle. He reaches into his pocket, pulls out a key, and unlocks my arms. I drop to the freezing floor with a thump.

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