Page 3 of But I'm Still Standing

I make my way up to our part of the house and head straight for our bedroom, needing to feel closer to Savvy somehow. I nosedive into her pillow and hit my knees next to our bed as I breathe her in. I do the only thing I know to do at this moment. I pray.

Chapter 1

Savvy

18 Weeks

Ireach up to mypounding head as I try to pry my eyes open. Bright light has me turning my head into a soft pillow as I put my hands over my eyes trying to rub the sleep out of them. My vision is blurry and my head swims as I try to sit up. The pounding intensifies when I finally will my eyes to focus after blinking several times. I look around the unfamiliar room not knowing where I am. When my feet hit the cold hardwood floor, I try to stand but sit back down quickly feeling dizzy. I take a few deep breaths tilting my head up towards the ceiling with my eyes closed. I place two fingers to each temple and rub circles as I arch my back taking in a deep breath through my nose, and exhale through pursed lips. I crack my neck leaning my head to both sides feeling a little relief, I open my eyes and focus as I take in my surroundings.

I sit on a comfortable bed in the middle of a beautiful room with a bay window. Books line the floor to ceiling shelves and a cute little desk sits by another window.

I hear a lock click, pulling me out of my thoughts.

My eyes dart to the door opening. I jump to my feet and grab the only thing I see to defend myself with, a small lamp on the nightstand. I charge the door before he even sees me coming and smash the lamp on his head. I run out the door and down a hall toward where Isee stairs. I get halfway down when I see about five guys with guns running up towards me. I go to turn around but am stopped by someone grabbing me by my hair, turning me in the opposite direction. Pinpricks hit my scalp as I scream out and remember to use what I have; I land an elbow to an already bloody face using the force of him turning me and as much strength as I can muster. He lets go of my hair and I drop to my knees and punch him in the balls before I’m hauled up to my feet by two men holding onto my arms. They pick me up and I kick my legs screaming and fighting the best I can and even get one more hit on the guy already on the ground right in his nose.

“Take her back to her fucking room and lock her in!” The bloody guy on the ground screams holding his now broken nose.

I’m pushed into the room and the door is shut and locked before I can make it back to it. I look around the room and start throwing anything I can find at the door that would break. The man brought in food on a silver cart, I tear it to pieces, making sure the mess is huge. I’m a crying screaming mess when I’m done trashing the once beautiful room.

I sit on the floor next to the bed rubbing my small bump, crying, and realize that my actions could have hurt him. I now know that I’m in a huge house with a ton of guys with guns. They’re obviously planning on taking care of me if I am in a room this nice and whoever he is, brought me food. I feel stupid for trashing the breakfast he brought because I’m hungry, which means he is hungry.

I look down at myself and realize I’m in a white nightgown. I remember being at the restaurant and talking to Sin, I can’t remember anything after that. I don’t know how long I’ve been here, or where here is. I am covered in food, syrup, and juice. I start to gag at the smell of syrup and decide I can’t sit here forever a sticky mess. I also have to pee. I get up and make my way around the broken glass and start looking in the doors that do open in this huge room. There is a refrigerator next to a counter just big enough to hold a small toaster oven.

I finally find the bathroom and stop in my tracks at one, how big it is and two, how pretty it is. White marble covers the space with his and her sinks, a white claw foot tub by a window, and a huge glass shower with six different shower heads. White lilies are in a vase on the windowsill above the tub, and different shades of blue with towels and art make it feel like I’m at a beach house.

I finally figure out how to turn the shower head on and climb in, letting the hot water soothe my aching muscles. I reach for shampoo and realize all the products I would normally use are in here. Whoever these people are, they know me. I finish showering and decide to look through the rest of the bathroom only finding things that I use at home.

I find a brush and my hair stuff along with makeup that I would only use if we were going out in a huge white vanity with lights. I’m not a girly girl, but I can appreciate a nice vanity. Luckily there is a drawer full of hair ties. I throw my hair into a messy bun to keep it out of my face and head out of the bathroom back into the bedroom to get to the closet I found earlier. I stop when I hear the door lock click and look around the room. It’s all cleaned up and a new cart with trays sits by the little table by the bay window. My hand flies up covering my mouth, as the smell of syrup hits my nose. I turn around and run back to the bathroom, barely making it to the toilet to dry heave. I finally throw up some bile and realize I haven’t eaten since I had my pop-tarts with Sin, and I don’t even know how long ago that was. I know I’m weak, I feel it. I have zero energy and I know I can’t starve my baby. I tighten the fluffy light blue towel around myself and brush my teeth before I head back into the bedroom. I don’t smell the syrup anymore and cock my head to the side, looking at the cart of covered trays. The little syrup bowl is gone that was there a minute ago. I look back to the closed and I’m sure locked door that leads to my freedom.

Reluctantly I sit at the table and start taking the lids off of the trays of food. Eggs benedict, bacon, sausage links, hashbrowns, and toast. I sit where I can see the door, I don’t know why, it’s not like Ican do anything if anyone does come in again. I start eating and can’t help the moans that escape. I eat until I feel like I’m going to bust.

I hear the lock on the door again when I’m about to go into the closet and find something to wear. I hurry into the large closet and rush around trying to throw on whatever I can find. I opt for black leggings and an overly big grey sweatshirt.

“Come out Savannah, no one is going to hurt you as long as you behave.” I hear a man’s voice and hesitantly come out of the closet. I stand there with my head up, locking eyes with him. I want him to know I’m not a fucking pet. I will tear him apart if he comes near me. He has a black eye and tape over his nose. I smirk knowing I did that.

“Good girl. Now is there anything you would like? I can have the kitchen make something special. All you have to do is ask.” He looks different without blood running down his face. I prefer him bloody. I stand there and just stare at him, refusing to speak. He makes a move to get up and I shuffle away from the closet door, towards him with my fists balled and cock my head at him, letting him know I will fight if I have to.

“Calm down, sweetheart, I’m not the enemy here. Wouldn’t want you to hurt the baby.” He looks down at my belly. I cover it with my hand protectively and give him a fuck you look with my eyebrows creased. My heart is pounding in my chest as I wait for him to make a move first.

“I’ll bring you lunch in a few hours, if there is anything you want in the meantime that isn’t stocked in the fridge, just knock on the door twice, and I’ll come back and talk about meal choices. Until then, get comfortable. You aren’t going anywhere.” He cocks a smile and moves to open the door, but looks back and says, “Try a stunt like that again and I’ll tie you to the bed and feed you every day, options will be gone.” He chuckles as he opens the door and shuts it just as quickly, then I hear the click of the lock.

He said behave, called me a good girl, and will tie me up if I don’t behave. I realize very quickly that I’m in hell. This has Bash written all over it, but how? I watched his dead body burn. I had to see it withmy own eyes. I knew we killed him, but I had to see him burn to be free of him in his death. Cami said it’s because I have old witch blood in me and it’s just our way. I accepted that. I miss her. She would tell me to buckle up and do what I have to do to get back to Sin and our friends. If this is what I think it is, will I be able to do what I have to do, and still keep us both safe?

The days and weeks go by, and I swear it’s like that movie, “Groundhog Day.” I just go through the motions. I haven’t spoken a word, and I won’t until I can figure some things out. Like, who in the fuck this guy is? Why am I here? If it was because of what I did to Bash, I would think that I would be being punished or tortured, but no, I’m being pampered with food and books. I’m going stir crazy and I have no clue what day it is or how long I’ve been here. I started a journal with the stationery and pens they left for me in the little desk.

When they realized I was writing things down, the guy brought me a leatherbound journal with a fleur-de-lis and the initials S.D. embossed into the brown buttery leather. It has leather strings to wrap it up and tie it when not being used, acting as a shield to protect my thoughts. I’ve kept it close to me in the hopes that they don’t get it and read it. It’s just me missing my husband and friends and writing what the baby is doing each day now that I can feel him moving. I’m not dumb enough to write down any of my sadistic thoughts on how I’m going to kill whoever these people are keeping me here.

I talk to the baby when I feel like I’m losing touch with reality, I just won’t speak to the only person I ever see who brings me food three times a day like clockwork. I eat and then he comes back and wheels the cart back out. I won’t ask for anything, and they keep the fridge stocked with snacks I actually like, so there is no need. Except I’m not getting any information. He just asks the same question every time he comes in about my cravings. He hasn’t touched me, but I also give off the vibe that I will cut your dick off if you comenear me, so there is that. Not that I could defend myself anyway. I’m beginning to believe this guy is in it for the long game and can hold out longer than I can. It’s been weeks now and I know one of us has to cave at some point. I’ll hold out a little longer and keep looking out the windows to see if I can recognize anyone coming and going. So far nothing. I just can’t wrap my head around why I’m here.

Chapter 2

Sin

24 Weeks

Screams mixed with the sounds of “Beast,” by Rob Baily & The Hustle Standard, bounce off the cave like walls as I stab the mother fucker tied up in a chair just above his kneecap, twisting the knife. I tilt my head cracking my neck watching blood drip to the floor as his screams die down to a small sob. “I’ll ask again. Where is my wife!? Who is the fucking queen? I can do this until you bleed out just as I have all of your friends. Tell me what I want to know, and I’ll end your life quickly. I’m just getting started with what I can and will do to you. The human body is a miraculous thing. It can withstand extreme torture and abuse before it shuts down. I’ve only had you for about forty-five minutes. This can take days if I want it to.” I explain to the piece of shit broker we took down tonight along with saving four girls he was delivering to their new owners. His name doesn’t matter. He brokers young women as pets. He is a piece of shit who will suffer just to burn like the others.

“I don’t know what her real name is, we call her Queen Fiona. I swear I don’t know her real name. Please, I have a family.” He cries out, slobbering and blubbering like a little bitch.

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