Page 86 of Ten

I am worthy.

I have a purpose.

I own my power, and no man can take it from me.

I repeated those silent affirmations again and again. The vehicle carrying me left the field and turned onto a darkened highway. I didn’t recognize anything outside the windshield. Wherever we were, it wasn’t a place I had ever visited. We were still in Texas. Of that much, I was sure. The road signs were all TxDOT-issued.

We drove for almost an hour before nearing our destination. Lightning Bolts shoved my head down toward my knees, preventing me from seeing any signs or structures. Maybe that meant they were going to let me live. I wouldn’t be able to identify where I had been, but I would be alive.

Or he was just playing mind games.

It was hard to breathe bent in half like that, but I didn’t complain. I closed my eyes and returned to my mantras and affirmations. I inhaled slowly and kept the panic at bay.

When we finally stopped, and I was allowed to sit up straight again, I hid how desperately I needed a full breath. I drew in a measured, deliberate amount of air and exhaled just the same. I wasn’t going to let that bastard know how much he was hurting me.

I own my power, and no man can take it from me.

I was dragged out of the SUV like a sack of potatoes. I winced when my bare feet hit the gravel. I looked around the strange place they had brought me. It was some sort of industrial facility. From the harsh smell of chemicals, I deduced it was a production plant of some kind. That made me think we were still relatively close to Houston. North or south, I couldn’t say, but close.

Lightning Bolts pushed me forward, and I managed not to stumble. He steered me with the handful of my hair he kept in his grip. My scalp had gone mostly numb from the tension. If I didn’t end up with a bald spot, I would be shocked.

He shoved me toward a rusty metal building. The interior was damp, and there was so much noise I grimaced. Large machines clicked and hummed. The scent of exhaust filled the air. I didn’t want to breathe too deeply. How much carbon monoxide was I inhaling? Too much, I figured, more than was safe.

He marched me across the building and through a set of double doors. He purposely banged my body into them, using my breasts and hip to force the heavy doors apart. I bit back another cry of pain.

Finally, he let go of my hair. He kicked my backside with his booted foot, and I tumbled forward onto the filthy concrete floor. I landed on my hands and knees, and my jaw rattled from the impact. I hurried to get back on my feet. Experience with Kiki had taught me that staying down was a sure way to end up with a broken rib or two.

“You stay in here until he comes.” Lightning Bolts left me there in the dimly lit space.

He? Who the fuck is he?

Kiki.

It had to be him they were expecting. I was the prize he had been promised.

I looked around, trying to figure out if I could escape. There were windows up high, but I couldn’t reach or fit through them. I tried the only door, shoving aside heavy plastic drums to get my fingers on the handle. It was locked from the outside, effectively trapping me in here.

This was some sort of rarely used maintenance storage room. I hurried to the shelves and started looking at the various bottles stored there. Solvents, detergents, and all manner of wickedly dangerous chemicals. If I wanted to make a bomb or mustard gas, I was in luck, but I didn’t think that was really the safest option here.

What am I going to do?

I put my hand on the rickety metal shelf and lowered my forehead. The shelf wobbled, and I gripped it tighter to keep it from collapsing and spilling those chemicals. As I did, I felt a piece of the shelf come free. The jagged length of metal wasn’t exactly the best weapon I could hope for, but it was something. The sharp end of it would make quick work of human skin.

I need a handle.

My gaze landed on a pile of dirty old rags. I grabbed two and wound them around the makeshift metal weapon. I gave the shaft of the piece a testing bend. It wasn’t very strong, and I doubted it would get more than one or two good jabs before it snapped. The shorter length would still be useful for stabbing, but I needed something else.

The chemicals.

I knew enough about chemistry to decide which were the safest and which were much too dangerous to even consider. I picked out two bottles and stared at them. How would I use them? Take the lid off and throw it in my attacker’s face? It would be difficult to control the liquid, and I would be at risk of getting splashed or inhaling the fumes.

Last resort, I decided. If it came to that, and there was no other way I could survive, I would use the chemicals.

I walked the perimeter of the room looking for more weapons. I found a broom handle that I stowed in a place I could reach easily. Before I hid it, I glanced at the double doors that were guarded by two of the men who had taken me from the cabin. They kept their backs to me, but I didn’t want to risk them catching me squirreling away weapons.

There were a few more violent implements I scavenged—a length of pipe, a screwdriver, a hammer. I hid them around the room, making sure they weren’t evident to anyone but me. The dim light in the smelly old room helped.

Tired and thirsty, I sat down against the wall and waited. For what, I didn’t know. Pain, probably. Fear. Torment. Despite those troubling thoughts, the exhaustion of the last few days took hold, and I nodded off to sleep. For how long I couldn’t be sure. A while, it seemed. Long enough that I felt a surge of energy when the sound of the doors being unlocked woke me.

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