Page 48 of Colton
I can’t move. I can’t even cry properly. My body has betrayed me, and I hate it. I hate how it responded to his touch, how it surrendered when I swore it wouldn’t. I bite my lip hard enough to taste blood, trying to ground myself, to anchor myself in the present, but everything feels wrong. The walls of the bunker seem closer, tighter, like they’re crushing me from the outside in.
How could I let this happen?The thought claws at my brain, replaying every second of my failure.I’m strong. I’m supposed to be stronger than this.
Every muscle aches, my limbs like dead weight, too heavy to move. I try to roll over, but my body won’t obey me. There’s a deep soreness radiating through my legs and back, and I feel raw, used. My throat is hoarse from screaming, but there’s still a scream lodged inside me, stuck like a lump I can’t swallow down.
I should move. I should fight. I should crawl away from him, but I’m so tired.
Too tired.
My eyes flutter shut for a moment, and I want to disappear into the darkness behind my eyelids, if only to escape the feeling of him all over me.
What if I can’t do this?
The thought whispers through me like a toxin, infecting my resolve. I’m supposed to be strong. I trained for this—for vengeance, for survival. But now, pressed against the cold floor, broken and bleeding, I don’t feel strong. I feel...powerless. Like I’m losing every part of myself, one violation at a time. How long before he takes everything?
No.My mind screams at me, the anger surging up again, desperate to push the doubt away.I can’t give up. I won’t.
He stands, staring down at me as I curl into a ball. He leans down and scoops me into his arms, and I can't even fight. He brushes my hair aside and kisses my neck, the sensation sending a shiver down my spine. I can feel his satisfaction, like he’s won some twisted game.
I’m left emotionally and physically shattered. My body lies still, bruised and broken, but my mind is racing. The hatred I feel for Colton burns stronger, a fire that refuses to be extinguished. I know he’s pushed me to the edge of myendurance, but I also know that I can’t let him break me. Not completely.
He walks into the bathroom and sets me on my feet, turning on the water. The cold water hits me like needles, sharp and unrelenting against my skin. I bite my lip again, this time drawing blood, trying to keep the sob lodged in my throat from escaping. My body is shivering uncontrollably, but I welcome the cold. It’s a distraction. A distraction from the pain between my legs, from the bruises forming under my skin, from the weight of what’s just happened.
The water pools around my feet, swirling pink and red with blood. I stare at it, numb. My mind refuses to process it, like if I just don’t acknowledge it, it didn’t happen. But I can feel it, the ache inside me, the bruises spreading like a storm across my body. I’m bleeding because of him. My skin stings, my muscles scream, but I focus on the water—on the way it flows, how it tries to cleanse me.
But I’ll never be clean again.
“It will warm up.” He watches me, a dark smile on his face.
My nipples harden from the chill, and I stare at the bottom of the shower, now horrified to see the swirls of red in the water.
“You...you made me bleed!” I stammer, fresh tears welling in my eyes.
“Yeah, I know.” Colton sighs and steps forward, reaching for the shower gel. “I’ll clean you up.”
I don’t want him anywhere near me, but right now, I’m scared he’s going to do it again, so I remain still. I feel...numb. Like I’m not even in my own body anymore, like I’m watching myself from somewhere far away. The water pelts my skin, turning my limbs pink with cold, but I barely feel it. I barely feel anything. Everything feels surreal, like it’s happening to someone else.
The blood washes away, but the memory of him won’t. His touch lingers, crawling over my skin like invisible hands, and no matter how much I scrub, I can’t erase him. I want to scream. I want to tear my skin off. I want...I don’t even know what I want anymore. The water warms slowly, but I don’t feel it. The heat does nothing to chase away the cold that’s taken root inside me.
“Good girl,” he hums, soaping my sore body tenderly, like he didn’t just violate me.
I stiffen as his hands move to my thighs, soaping away the blood and come.
“I’ hate you,” I spit out, unable to stop myself.
Colton sighs, and my heart slams in my chest. The shower gel clatters to the floor of the cubicle, and he rises to his feet, his dark eyes swirling with rage.
“This is only the beginning, Mary. Now clean yourself up.” His footsteps echo through the room as he walks away, leaving me to process what just happened.
I feel nothing. I’m not in my body anymore. My limbs are dead weight, useless, as if they’ve given up on me entirely. I want to scream, but it’s locked inside, buried under layers of denial and shock. Maybe if I stay here, in this numbness, I’ll survive it.
Chapter 23
Colton
Iwatch her on the camera, pleased I remembered to turn it on when we arrived. The feed goes directly to my phone, and there’s nowhere in this bunker she can escape me. She’s staring down at the floor, her shoulders hunched. But she’s not crying anymore.
Shame. I like it when she cries.
