Page 13 of Hell Breaks Loose

The real torture comes in the form of the massive garden tub waiting for me in the bathroom, steaming and filled with incredible smelling soaps and lotions. Part of me that has blocked out any hope for comfort, any desire for it, shudders back to the surface.

Logically, I know it’s the lack of any succor or relief that I’ve undergone for so many days that has me shaking as I find myself undressing, drawn toward the tub. I should refuse this. I should shut myself in the closet in protest.

But as I step one foot into the blessedly hot embrace, a tear slips down my cheek.

I think it’s as much out of fear as relief.

Because in this moment, all I can think about is how devastated I’ll be, how desperate I'll feel if he takes all of this away again. I can’t take it.

Soon, the tears are pouring out of me, the silent sobs racking my aching body, soothed by the heat of the scented bath. Blurring my vision, blending with the steam on my face.

He’s won.

Marco has kept me isolated for so long.

So I shut off that part of me for a little while. Just for a bit. And I indulge in the present.

Who’s an idiot?

That would be me.

One night.

One night in luxury. One night in that king-sized masterpiece of a bed, draped in soft cotton, comforters, pillows. Pure. Heaven.

So it’s so much worse when they come in, early in the morning, tearing back the covers, yanking me out of bed by one leg, dropping me to the floor.

The fall scares me more than it hurts, but I’m crying before Grico jerks me to my feet with one terrifyingly strong hand under my armpit.

“Move.”

“W–why? I’ve been good, I’ve followed every?—”

He only raises his hand this time. Doesn’t strike.

And I fucking cower.

I nearly drop to the floor quivering, my eyes clamped shut. Like a whimpering, disgusting whelp.

After a few seconds, I open my eyes, venturing a glance.

The sneer on his face, on the other two guards’ faces…The disgust and satisfaction.

I just snap.

My fingernails find his skin before he can react, clawing down his face, his neck, screaming, roaring against this injustice.

“FUCK YOU! You cowards!” I belt at the top of my lungs, the words shredding my throat.

Grico shouts, stumbling back against my assault. Vance and Lonnie just stand there, eyes wide.

Until they realize they should probably help.

One grabs my waist, the other my hands, but I never stop fighting. The entire way back to my dungeon, to my hell, I rail against them, losing control completely.

I’m hysterical.

I’m fucking frantic. I can’t go back down there. I can’t hang on anymore.

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