Page 4 of Gunnar

“Then get your ass outta here. You tell me when she’s safe.”

“I’ll give you regular reports. We’ll have to research and plan, but I won’t take any more time than strictly necessary before going to bring her out.”

“Plan it well, brother. Get her out safe.”

“You have my word.”

* * *

Pippa

They were coming. I could hear heavy footfalls and raised male voices. It was part of the torture I’d endured for the last month. At least, I thought it had been a month. I’d scratched a notch into the wooden floor for each day I’d been there. Might have missed a day or counted one twice. It was hard to tell with the drugs and the fact that there was only one window and I wasn’t even sure if it faced the morning or evening sun. I never knew what my captors were going to do, but it was never pleasant. Usually, it meant someone was drugging me or a beating when I fought the drugging, but things had been escalating recently. I got the impression they were waiting on something. I wasn’t sure what, and the natives were getting restless, so to speak.

“Is Boss lettin’ us play with the bitch today?”

“Not yet.” The voices were distinctively different. While the first one had a squeak and a whiny tone, the second voice was deeper and more sinister. It was the man who came in to shoot me up every few hours. While I sometimes got a little dizzy, whatever they were using wasn’t as strong as I’d have expected. I was never completely under and had, so far, been able to fight them off whenever they got handsy. Probably more because they obviously didn’t have the go ahead to do whatever they wanted. As to who “they” were, I had no idea.

The door opened and I huddled into an even tighter ball on the floor in the corner. There was only a dingy mattress for me to sleep on and a bucket in the corner for me to go to the bathroom in, and that was it. Not a blanket or pillow or anything. I was naked, cold, and filthy, my hair a tangled, nasty mess. If I made it out of here, I was sure I’d have to cut it. Which was the least of my worries.

It was dark, and the light spilling into the room hit me squarely in the eyes. I whimpered and lifted a hand up to block out the light. Which was exactly what the man wanted. He snagged my arm and extended it so my elbow wasn’t bent.

I struggled but he didn’t smack me around this time. Probably because I was no match for his greater strength. Plus, they hadn’t been feeding me regularly and it had been a couple days since I’d had any water. The fight was rapidly running out of me. Rather than waste energy on a futile effort, I did my best to conserve my strength. Unless he hit me with a lot more than he usually did, I would still have enough awareness of everything around me to be able to fight if this was a prelude to another assault. What these guys didn’t know and what I’d taken great pains to hide from them, was I had never been overly susceptible to narcotics. Why? No clue. But other than taking away the pain, I didn’t get high. Which, in this situation wasn’t exactly a blessing.

There was a sharp prick in the bend of my elbow as the guy found a vein, even without a tourniquet. He pressed the plunger and the sharp burning sting left in its wake made me cry out. Every time they did this, I was certain my arm was going to turn black and fall off. A few seconds later, euphoria warmed me from the inside out. They’d definitely hit me with a stronger dose, but it still wasn’t enough to put me out. I wasn’t sure if being awake was a blessing or a curse, though.

The second he pulled the needle from my arm, the guy let me go and stomped out, just like always. The whiny-sounding guy lingered, but the other man snagged him by the upper arm and dragged him to the door. He slammed the door shut and I heard the click of the outside lock. Once again, I was alone.

My head was actually spinning, but the disorientation I’d thought might follow didn’t happen. Everything was just… soft. God only knew how much the bastard had hit me with to get this effect. Good news was, my face didn’t hurt where he’d hit me anymore.

It wasn’t long before the door opened again. Just like I knew it would. They never waited long between injections before they came in with people to look at me. Men. Women. Mostly men, though. It wasn’t hard to put together they were there to inspect goods. Which meant, I was being sold to the highest bidder. Or something.

“The side of her face is swollen.” This guy sounded different than the others who’d come to look at me. Less refined. I thought I smelled gasoline. Kind of like when I’d been brought here. The dizziness combined with the bright light in my face made it impossible to see him clearly, but one thing was for sure. He was a big motherfucker if the unfamiliar blurry double shadow I was seeing was the guy speaking.

“Bitch shoulda laid still.”

“Where else’s she hurt?”

“Dunno, man. Don’t fuckin’ care either. Do you wanna make a bid on the bitch or not?”

There was a smallpop. Nothing big, more like a snap firecracker. Then two more. I heard more voices, then hands grabbed at me, tugging at me. I screamed and kicked out as hard as I could, panic driving away the lingering effects of the drug I’d been given.

“It’s all right. It’s all right. You’re safe, Pippa. I’m here to get you out.” The words did nothing to calm me down. Especially when something was shoved over my head.

“NO! NO! Bastard!” I fought. Hard. But I’d been starved and drugged, not to mention taking beatings any time I fought back. I didn’t have a chance against this guy. Then my head was free and my arms soon followed. That’s when I realized he’d put a shirt on me, covering my body in soft material.

“I know, honey. But I promise I’ll be better.” He sounded like he was only half paying attention to me even as he slipped my feet into some loose, soft pants.

“Be better?” I know it was a stupid conversation and probably not one we had time for, but the question slipped out before I could even think of censoring it.

“At not being a bastard.” He put socks on my feet before slipping shoes on.

“I’m, uh, not really sure I can walk. I haven’t been on my feet much since they brought me here.” I took in a shuddering breath as flashes of the early hours of my captivity flew through my mind. I heard myself whimper. “I’m not… I c-couldn’t e-even go to the b-bathroom…” My thought trailed off, and I shuddered again, barely biting back a sob of despair and humiliation.

“Didn’t figure you could walk out, and I don’t plan on you having to. I just believe in being prepared. Besides, the socks and shoes might help get your feet warm.” He continued to move around the tiny space with efficient movements. “I know you’re hurting and scared. But I’ll keep you safe. On my life.”

I looked up at him and knew I was going to cry. No tears came, but I could feel great sobs inside me wanting to break free. “I don’t think I’ll ever be warm or clean again.”

“Christ.” The man pulled me into his arms and held me for long moments before wrapping an arm around my waist to pick me up and carry me outside. Instinctively, I wrapped my arms and legs around him and hung on tight. “When I get you to safety, I may well kill Knuckles for this fuckin’ stunt.”

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