Page 132 of Pure Vengeance

Desolation

Hannah

Perched on the edge of the broken plastic toilet seat, she allowed another tear to stream down her face. The bathroom had turned out to be little more than a broom closet with dirty facilities and the tiniest basin she’d ever seen, but she guessed it was better than being strapped down in the chair. Who knew if that was where she’d end up next, but at least he’d allowed her a reprieve.

Her gaze flitted to the dreary ceiling, wondering if she should now be grateful to be naked and unbound. The inches of plastic shoved into her arse told her yes, but her nudity begged to disagree. Her captor had taken the opportunity to strip her entirely once she was freed from the chair, and naturally, her concerns about the possible shocks he’d bestow if she failed to comply ensured she had.

The nicotine-stained wallpaper that was peeling from the wall opposite her summed up her situation perfectly—it was tired and inevitable. Her mind was still overcast from whateverhe’d given her, and her body ached from the hours of confinement. Deep down, she couldn’t ignore the nagging sense that she should somehow have seen this coming. She should have realized that a man as aligned with her needs as Saul was too good to be true, but she thought she’d played it safe, thought that letting her friends know where she was going and meeting in a public place was enough tokeepher safe.

I was wrong.

Little had she known, a monster had been on her tail.

At least I’m free from the binds.

She glanced at her wrists as the chirpy little voice tweeted in her head. Yes, she was free to relieve herself, and yes, he’d allowed her to use an actual toilet, but she’d rarely felt more enslaved than she did shivering in the dank little room. She was liberated from the chair, but the future looked uncertain.

Fresh trepidation twisted inside her at that suffocating thought. He could do anything to her, and she was helpless to resist. Even if she could overpower him, which was exceptionally unlikely, she was too worried about the consequences to try. Just standing from the toilet seat induced stress as she worried that her tensing muscles might provoke the dreaded dildo. Her breaths came faster as she anticipated how excruciating the burst of pain would be.

Lawes had said he wouldn’t emit the shock, had said it was only there as a deterrent, but she didn’t believe him. He’d bought the damn thing, hadn’t he? Had saved whatever miserly money an ex-con got and had conjured this grim place and the apparatus to keep and torment her. Experience had taught her not to trust. Being too trusting had landed her in this new nightmare in the first place.

Gripping the edge of the dusty basin, she wiped her tears with the heel of her other hand. She had to get a grip of herself, had to?—

“What are you doing in there, little girl?”

Lawes’ voice traveled through the flimsy plank of wood that doubled as a door, though as she spun to face the sound, she reasoned she should probably be grateful for any privacy at all. He’d rarely afforded her any the last time, but then, on that occasion, he hadn’t threatened to electrocute her.

“Washing my hands, Mr. Lawes.” Reaching for the rusting faucet, she twisted the head and waited as the water system groaned into life.

“No need.” New urgency echoed in his tone. “I have antibacterial hand gel. That will suffice. Come out now… on your knees.”

Her heart fell at the final order, fresh tears pricking in her gaze. She had been hoping to wash his dried cum from her face, but apparently, even that was a luxury she couldn’t afford.

Better not to piss him off.The taunting fullness at her backside advised.Better do as he says.

Switching off the faucet, she heaved in a breath, thankful there was no mirror for her to witness her own sorry appearance. The last thing she wanted to see was the evidence of how low she’d fallen so fast. It was too demoralizing.

Whatever happened next, she’d have to bear it, although goodness only knew how. In the short term, it would mean obeying his ridiculous commands and being hisgood little girl.Her stomach lurched at the idea.

No choice.

She’d have to comply. However she felt about the role.

Opening the door between them, she inched out of the cubicle onto the thinly-worn carpet and fell to her knees. It didn’t matter that her joints protested as they met the floor, nor that her face flamed as she acknowledged her new position. She had to endure.

“Show me your hands.” He barked the instruction, and wordlessly, she held her palms aloft.

“Here.” He squirted the gel on her upturned palms. “Clean them.”

She obeyed accordingly, trying to stretch the limited quantity he’d offered as far as she could.

“I have another present for you.” His index finger reached under her chin and compelled their gazes to meet as he slid the bottle of gel into his back pocket.

Hannah held her breath. Would he see that she’d been crying? What would he think?

The seconds dragged on around her as his green eyes surveyed her face, and for the longest time, his attention suspended her there, paralyzing her movements and breath.

“Here.” His free hand rose to reveal the so-called gift. “This is for you.”

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