Page 50 of Colton
But for now, I watch. I wait. I plan.
Because this game is far from over. It’s only just begun.
Chapter 24
Luella
Iwant to rip his fucking eyes out. I’m seething, livid after what Colton just put me through. The audacity of that man, thinking he can manipulate and control me like some sort of puppet. He stands there, smirking, as if he’s won some sort of twisted game.
“You can’t keep me here,” I snarl, my voice trembling with barely contained rage. “I’m not your fucking toy, Colton.”
His eyes, those cold, steely gray eyes, narrow slightly, but the smirk doesn’t fade. “Oh, but you are here, aren’t you? In my bunker, under my control.”
I clench my fists, feeling my nails dig into my palms. “You think you have power over me? Newsflash, you don’t. I won’t play your games.”
Colton chuckles, a sound that grates on my nerves like nails on a chalkboard. “We’ll see about that, little bird.” He turns and walks away, leaving me alone in the dimly lit bunker. The heavy door slams shut behind him, echoing ominously in the confined space.
Where the fuck has he gone? I shouldn’t care, but I fucking hate that he’s locked me in here, like I’m his prisoner. Probablygone to see his daddy, the sick fuck. But I know he hasn’t. Colton took me away from his father, when he could’ve left me to him.
I’d have survived, of course, but he doesn’t know that. He thought he was protecting me.
Then he raped me.
I will have his balls for that. I’ll choke him on his own fucking dick for making me a victim.
I take a deep breath, trying to calm the chaos raging inside me. I won’t give him the satisfaction of seeing me break down. Instead, I decide to explore my prison, determined to find something,anything, that might help me escape or at least understand Colton’s twisted mind better.
Every corner of this place reminds me of him—his control, his fucking ego. I want to tear it all apart. Break everything. But I need to think. I need a way out. There’s no point in losing my head now, no matter how much I want to scream until I lose my voice.
The bunker is surprisingly well-equipped, a hidden sanctuary tucked away from the chaos above. The air is cool and slightly damp, carrying a faint scent of earth and concrete. The walls are lined with shelves stocked with canned goods and other supplies, lit by the harsh fluorescent lights overhead. There’s a small kitchenette in the corner, complete with a humming mini-fridge and a hotplate, the stainless-steel sink gleaming despite the dim light.
I can’t imagine Colton is much of a cook, though.
A doorway leads to a cramped bathroom, and the living area is refreshing compared to the rest of the bunker, invitingly warm and lived in. Large cartons of water remind me that Colton could keep me here for a long time, but I push that thought away. I must remain calm and not get myself worked up over shit like that.
A worn-out couch sits in the center, its faded upholstery giving away its use. A thick, soft blanket is draped over the back, beckoning me to curl up and retreat from the world.
I could. I could just curl up and go to sleep, forget any of this is happening. I close my eyes and pinch the bridge of my nose before continuing to look around.
I won’t give up. My sister will be avenged.God, I sound like a superhero character.
A television, surprisingly modern compared to the rest of the furnishings, is tucked into the corner. Beside it, a stack of DVDs leans haphazardly, their spines labeled in neat, handwritten French. I pick up one, running my fingers over the faded cover, the plastic smooth and cool to the touch. The titles bring back memories of high school French classes, the language always striking me as beautiful and romantic.
I slip the disc into the player and sink onto the couch, the cushions enveloping me. The TV flickers to life, casting a soft glow that dances across the walls, providing a much-needed distraction from my current reality. The sounds of Parisian streets fill the room, transporting me far away from the cold, damp bunker and the shit that awaits me above ground. For a moment, I can forget the danger and the deceit, losing myself in the familiar rhythm of a language that once captivated me.
Hours pass, and I drift off to sleep, the voices from the television lulling me into a sense of security.
When I wake up, I’m disoriented. The movie is still playing, but the bunker is darker, the only light coming from the flickering screen. I realize my head is resting on something warm and firm. I blink, my eyes adjusting to the light, and see Colton staring at the TV, his expression unreadable.
I jerk away from him, recoiling in disgust. “Don’t touch me,” I snap, my voice hoarse from sleep. My heart thuds as I move to the other side of the sofa, glaring at him.
Colton sighs, running a hand through his dark curls. “Relax, I wasn’t doing anything. You fell asleep, and I didn’t want to disturb you.”
I glare at him, wrapping my arms around myself protectively. “Relax? Are you fucking serious? You fuckingrapedme, Colton! I don’t want you anywhere near me.”
He leans back, putting some space between us. “Fair enough. Are you hungry?”
Is he for real?He just completely ignored what I said, the fucking psycho.
