Page 6 of Ruthless

“Yep. I get you and freedom from dear old dad in one easy step. Double the pleasure, double the fun.”

“You’re a monster,” she whispered.

Ignoring her insult, he tilted his head and then gave a command that sent an icy shiver down her spine.

“Strip.”

“What?”

“You heard me. Take your clothes off.” He held up his phone. “I need more photos. Maybe even a video. They need to see what they’re paying for.”

“No,” she ground out between clenched teeth. “I will absolutely not do that.”

“Okay. No problem.”

With those words, the door behind him opened, and two men, dressed in fatigues, their faces covered with masks, marched inside.

“Gentlemen, our prisoner is being obstinate. Take care of that, will you?”

She barely managed a shrieking scream before hard, giant hands reached for her, and a new nightmare began.

CHAPTER THREE

She had fought, and she had lost.

If anyone walked in, they might think she was dead. She was barely breathing, but mostly because breathing caused pain. Her nose, the body part she hated most, was broken. Of that, there was no doubt. Her jaw was hurting, too. She could barely open her mouth, so she thought it was likely broken as well. Her ribs were bruised, maybe cracked. The bruises around her throat where she’d been choked didn’t hurt that much anymore, only when she tried to swallow. The bruises between her thighs were now only dull throbs.

She had been sexually assaulted, but she hadn’t been raped—she told herself she should be grateful for that. It could have been so much worse. And she was grateful, but the biggest part of her felt nothing but despair. She had never felt more hopeless or helpless in her entire life.

Her body would heal. But the inside of her—her heart, her mind, her spirit—were destroyed. The optimistic young woman who had arrived in Paris with the spirit to take on the world and conquer it with joy and verve had disappeared and would never be again.

Her whole world had been turned upside down. Everything she had believed about humanity and the goodness of the human spirit had been destroyed. Oh, she had known there were bad people in the world. She was twenty-one years old and had never been one to bury her head in the sand. However, she had always believed the good outweighed the bad. Had believed that good triumphed over evil. She had believed in justice, in redemption and forgiveness. All of that was demolished. With one horrific act, all her beliefs lay at her feet like ashes. They could be swept away, trod upon, or blown up into the air. They were no more.

She had no idea how long she’d been lying here. It could have been only hours, perhaps days. She had faded in and out of consciousness numerous times, but she had no clear idea how long she’d been out each time.

The attack had been brutal and vicious. She had screamed, kicked, bitten, and scratched to no avail. Eventually, she had simply lain on the bed and let them maul her like wild beasts, posing her as they pleased while that vermin Dirk had taken photo after photo. Fighting them had turned into a painful, useless endeavor. They had taken pleasure in hurting her as well as humiliating her.

But it had been Dirk who’d delivered the vicious punches. In the midst of the most humiliating and disgusting moments of her life, she had watched him record her misery and shame. In a flash, something had come over her. She couldn’t say what it was, other than pure, blind fury. For one millisecond, her abusers had lifted their hands from her body, and in that instant, she had sprung onto Dirk. She had knocked him to the floor, the phone had dropped from his hand, and she had scratched and clawed his face like a feral, wild beast. Her fingernails weren’t very long, but they had managed to gouge several bloody rivets in his face.

His retribution had been fierce. He had picked her up and slammed her against the wall, choked her, and then had brutally beaten her. But even in the midst of intense pain, she had known a fierce pride in causing him damage.

Eventually, she’d gone somewhere else in her mind—a place no one could follow. A place none of them could touch. He had tried to get her to talk…tried taunting her with threats. Even though she hadn’t reacted to his words or even allowed herself to acknowledge his existence, she had heard him. His taunts, his disgusting comments.

His intent was to sell her. She’d almost come out of her hiding place for a moment to remind him that she might be a hard sell at this point. There wasn’t a place on her body that wasn’t bruised or bloodied. And while she didn’t have a mirror, she knew her nose was swollen twice its size, and her face was covered in blood. He apparently didn’t understand that damaged goods were likely not the best products to sell.

At that thought, a small flicker of fury shot up within her. Damaged goods? No, she was not damaged goods. She might be broken, she might be bruised, but she would rise above this hellhole, and she would rain down holy terror on those who’d done this to her. She was not her father’s daughter for nothing. She had watched her papa make grown men cry and quake with fear. She would do the same.

A noise outside the door obliterated her haughty musings as terror returned. No, not again. She would not survive another attack. She could barely move, barely breathe. Please, dear Lord, no more.

The sound went away, and relief swamped her. Despair followed. How was she going to exact revenge when she had no way out? No hope? Nothing to hang on to?

Lina closed her eyes, feeling the tears seep out and slide down her damaged face. Helpless to do anything else, she lulled herself into a restless sleep, allowing her unconscious mind to dream of white knights dressed as armed men who had good, honorable intentions and could bust through concrete walls and cages of steel to destroy evil and wreak vengeance on the wicked. Were there people out there who could do this? In her dreams, there were, and that was the only place she felt safe anymore.

A loud blast jerked her awake. The entire room shook as if the wrath of God had arrived and was destroying the very foundations of the world. Lina tried to sit up, but the pain in her chest was almost unbearable. She looked up at the tiny window above her and thought she saw flares of red. Was the world on fire?

Screams, shouts, squeals of pain echoed through the walls. Heavy, booted feet sounded like they were running as they passed her door. She wanted to cry out, but she caught herself, fearful that it was a trick. Maybe there were more evil people coming inside. Maybe they would hurt her even more. A whimper of terror escaped her lips. She would be silent as a mouse, and they would forget about her.

But what if they were good men? What if an army had come to save her, and she was too cowardly to speak up? Would they pass her by? Anxiety overcame the fear. She didn’t want to be left behind!

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