Page 9 of Their Stolen Obsession
I wiped the drool away with the back of my hand, got off that fucking disgusting mattress that felt like lumps of potatoes pressing into my body, and crawled toward a wall. My fingers touched the drywall, searching for any crack or vent. Anything to help me get out of this horrid place. I’d use my nails until they bled to dig me out of here and any strength I had left to get to freedom.
As strong as the smell of my urine had become, I had gotten used to it. Which was now overtaken by the stench of shit. A terrible mix nobody should have to deal with, and I had no choice, but the inhuman conditions fueled me more. Drove me to survive and seek an escape.
Dreadfully, my sweep had brought me to the bucket. I couldn’t peer at the disgrace I had made and pushed it aside only for me to ponder if anyone wouldcome to clean up my bowel movement or if I’d be stuck with it until the next one.Would I ever get to shower again?I couldn’t even remember the last time I had warm water engulf my body or the smell of being cleansed. I’d give anything to experience that luxury again.
The exploration of my miserable cell ended with disappointment. There were no unwanted cracks in the drywall, no vents, or even a loose floorboard. Only a fucking hole in the wall that was useless. I could stick a finger through the wall, but that was it. Good for nothing pointless peephole.
My backside hit the wall with frustration as I slid downward into a seated position with my head between my knees. My hands were on top of my head, and I felt the greasiness of my once beautifully maintained hair. Something I couldn’t even accomplish being trapped in here. It was hopeless. I’d never get out of here, no matter what I did. I should give up and come to terms with my fate. The privileged life I once had was gone, and I had taken it all for granted. I’d take a slap to the face any day over this harsh mistreatment. All the abuse I had suffered held nothing to this monstrosity. This nothingness. Captivity was a darkness buried alone with no shred of emotion, no human contact, and no necessity tokeep a body living. I had hit rock bottom, and I was about to break.
I let the tears come. They slipped through the cracks and fell to the floor. Tears upon tears were wept until I thought there would be no more. My silent cries made no sound because I was numb. One hundred percent fucking broken.
Suddenly, footsteps echoed over my pounding head, and they stopped right outside of the door. The doorknob rattled, and I knew someone was coming in, but I didn’t give a shit. I was over it, all this bull crap. Whoever was on the other side about to welcome my disgusting smell had earned it by leaving me in here to rot. The asshole could deal with the mess they had created.
The door cracked open with new light illuminating the floorboards by my toes. I didn’t even bother to glance up.
“Bloody hell,” a low, rumbling tone said. “Someone had a rough night.”
It was morning. My first sign of the time. A new day for many, but not for me. I was in a pit of eternal damnation. Stuck here with whoever the hell this was.
A slow creak filled the air as more brightness peeked in, and I heard a click. The sound made me glance up, trying to adjust to the visual shift. Anextremely tall figure leaned against the doorframe with broad shoulders and a lighter in his hand. The Zippo clicked again with a flash of a spark, but no flame, and he cursed.
“You wouldn’t have a light in here? Would ya?” he asked.
I remained silent.
“Of course not.” He laughed harshly and continued to talk to himself. “This entire shithole would burn to the ground.”
He was smart. I’d give him recognition where credit was due. But he was also stupid for getting mixed up with Preston Pitrone. He was no better than the rest of them.
He gave the lighter another try and had success. A flame lit to life and he puffed on a cigar. Smoke clouded his dark, hooded, intense eyes until he blew out a breath.
“Third times a charm,” he said with a sly smile.
The aroma of dark chocolate, wood, and spices filled my nostrils. I couldn’t help but want a puff too, as I drooled at the scent. Much better than the smell of captivity.
“You’ve been crying,” he stated as he appeared deep in thought, but took another drag of his cigar.
“Yeah. So? Why do you care?” I shrugged, holding my arms tighter around my bent legs.
He exhaled. “I don’t.”
I huffed, “Figures.”
He stayed leaning against the doorframe as he watched me and didn’t speak a word. He studied me, and I did the same to him. I took in his darkened facial scruff and neatly combed brown hair with faded edging at the sides. He wore a white buttoned-up dress shirt with the collar flipped up like he had removed a tie, and he didn’t want to bother fixing it. With his sleeves rolled up, you could see the tattoos that went from his forearms to his fingers. The guy had some serious ink and a mad addiction to a tattooing needle. He’d undone a few buttons to show off more of his beloved, treasured artwork on his chest below his neckline.
“Quite the attitude for someone locked up for multiple days in a row,” he admitted as he pushed off the doorframe and entered the room. “No wonder Preston threw you in here.”
Days.
My confinement lasted longer than I had hoped. The reality of my dire situation only seemed worse with the truth, but I needed to hear it. I had longed for any glimpse of facts for days, with every minute ticking by like a bomb set to explode. The timer had stopped, and a newfound spark lit under my ass as I wiped the tears from my face with my dirty fingers.I was certain dark grimy streaks stained my cheeks, but I didn’t give a damn. I was ready, prepared for whatever this thug of Preston’s had in store for me. No longer numb with hopelessness, I was starting over again with new hope for survival. The stubborn bitch was back.
“Surprised to find me alive?” I asked as I got to my feet and stood in my soiled undergarments.
I knew I stunk. The smell wafted up and stung my nostrils. My eyes watered from the foulness, but my stare never wavered from him. He was the enemy. I had to keep my guard up and not falter. Any moment he could strike, and I had no idea what he’d do, but I’d be ready for him. I was prepared to fight for my life.
He nodded toward me. “You had an accident there, sugar?”
“Yep.” I popped thePwithout one hint of embarrassment.
