Page 43 of Toy

Still, I knew this was only the beginning, because my father hadn’t arrived to see me yet.

When Danny came to beat me at some point yesterday—was it even yesterday? I’d lost track of time—he smugly told me that he’d succeeded in his mission to kidnap me a lot earlier than my father assumed he would. Because of that, I’d been returned to the cult several weeks ahead of schedule, and my father was otherwise preoccupied with some sort of ‘business’ elsewhere. Danny told me he was overjoyed to hear the news of my return, though, and he would be back to see me soon.

The thought made me shiver, and I pulled on the chains. An unconscious move, but an utterly useless one.

I tried to picture Mason’s face in my mind’s eye. Thankfully, that came easily to me.

Thoughts of him were my only lifeline, the only thing that gave me the strength to hold on one more minute. One more hour. I clung to our memories desperately, because it was the only thing keeping me sane, and sanity was a luxury for me now.

He would come for me. He had to. Even if he was too late and he arrived to find my body broken and lifeless, at least he would know that my last words to him in person were ‘I love you’. That gave me some comfort.

My eyes narrowed into slits as the door swung open all of a sudden, flooding my surroundings with bursts of white light. When my vision adjusted, I saw Danny holding a flashlight. He crouched to undo my restraints. “You’re coming with me,” he said, roughly yanking me to my feet.

“Where?” I croaked. My throat was parched.

He gave me a crooked smile. An ominous promise darkened his gaze. “He’ll be ready for you soon. We need to get you cleaned up.”

I didn’t need to ask who ‘he’ was. It was obvious.

“What happens then?” I asked. A tremor had appeared in my voice, a harbinger of tears. I bit them back.

I wanted to snivel and sob with terror, but I couldn’t afford to waste the moisture. I needed to retain every little drop in my body, because the men had only provided me with a single cup of water upon my arrival. Nothing since. I could practically feel myself shriveling into a husk as a result. My lips were so dry and cracked that they stung and bled whenever I opened my mouth even the slightest amount.

Danny wound one hand in my hair, yanking my face upward. “Shut your mouth,” he hissed. “You don’t get to ask questions.”

I was tempted to spit in his face, but my mouth was too dry. I knew I shouldn’t anyway, for the same reason I shouldn’t cry.

“Come.” He led me to the door of the cabin and pushed me through it.

Outside, the starry twilight sky was streaked with shades of deep purple and navy blue along with faint tinges of orange. The air was filled with the raucous chatter of rainforest insects.

Danny directed me up a long path lined with flaming torches, and I quickly realized we were heading to the mansion. The thought chilled my blood. Was my father already there, waiting for me? What would happen to me once I was with him?

He and the other cultists wanted me dead—I knew that much—but they obviously wanted to torment me first. How long would they make me suffer? How much more could I take before I lost my mind? What would happen when I finally snapped? Was that when my father would finally lay the death blow upon me?

The questions kept slicing through my mind, brutal and sharp-edged. No matter how many times I considered them, no answers mercifully descended upon me out of the darkness. No clarity. All I knew for sure right now was that if I was still here and capable of rational thought, then I wasn’t broken. Not yet.

As I considered that fact, I realized that despite all the pain they were inflicting on me, giving up would be far worse. I decided I wouldn’t give them that satisfaction. Ever. I would keep on fighting until I couldn’t. Even then, when my body was shattered and bleeding, they still wouldn’t break my mind.

I knew I could pull that off. Mason’s love had given me the kind of strength I would need to do so.

Danny and I finally entered the mansion through a side door. I looked around with wide eyes. The interior was identical to the Louisiana mansion. Sweeping stairways, high ceilings, expensive art, vintage furniture and beautiful light fixtures.

“Where are we?” I asked timidly. “Please tell me.”

“Shut up.” Danny shoved me forward, pushing me down a hallway.

I tried again. “I don’t see how it makes a difference whether I know or not. You’re probably going to kill me anyway.”

“You’re right.” Danny leaned down behind me, hot breath skating over my earlobe. “It doesn’t make a difference. So I may as well not tell you.”

With a sigh, I shut my mouth and lowered my eyes, concentrating on my body. Now that I was bathed in light from the hallway chandeliers and sconces, I could see the full extent of the damage that had been done to me over the last few days. My wrists were wrapped with dark bruises and raw red spots where the cuffs had rubbed against them. My ankles matched. The rest of my skin was marred with mottled bruising, cuts, grazes, and small circular burn marks from a cattle prod, covering me like a cloth of hatred and anguish.

A moment later, Danny pushed on a sore spot on my back, making me wince as he forced me to make a left. “In here.”

Beyond the door, there was a spacious bathroom with light gray and white marble tiles, gold fixtures, and an enormous bathtub in the center which looked as if it had been carved out of one giant slab of stone. Steam rose from the tub, and when I drew closer, I saw that it was filled with bubbles.

Danny closed the door behind us and nodded to the tub. “Wash yourself.”

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