Page 26 of Undying Resilience

It’s the last thought I have before Jordan shoves my head into the freezing water. I try to twist out from underneath him, but he pushes me into the trough harder. The edge is much thinner than the tub upstairs, and the added pressure makes it dig into my body painfully.

Not struggling feels like giving up, but I didn’t miss what Jordan said. Making this harder on myself is a stupid move. So I stay still, focusing on holding my breath.

Jordan pulls me up. “You’re learning. Now look at the camera.”

I do as he says, coughing and gasping.

“Look at her,” Jordan shouts. “Soaked to the bone, freezing, and half-drowned. This is what happens when you fuck with the wrong people. I hope you learn your lesson.”

Say something. Anything to give them a clue.

I take a deep breath, already anticipating that Jordan’s going to put me back under for this. Then I say, “I’m in a house sur-”

I don’t get to finish the sentence before my head is submerged in the cold water. Jordan keeps a tight grip on my hair, holding me underwater for longer than before. My lungs start to burn as my body is overcome with the desperate need to breathe anything in.

Just as I’m beginning to wonder if Jordan changed his mind and he’s going to kill me now, he pulls me up. Relief floods me as I take in as much air as I can.

Three more times he shoves my head under water, keeping me there until my body is so deprived of oxygen, I feel dizzy.

“Put her back in her room,” Jordan says, standing and letting me go.

I sway, but before I fall, his men are dragging me to my feet. They take me upstairs and lock me away, leaving me shivering and dripping onto the floor. At least they cut the zip tie off my wrists before they go.

So cold.

In the bathroom, I do my best to squeeze as much water out of my hair as possible. Then I wring out my clothes before putting them back on. I’d take them off to let them air dry, but I don’t want Jordan or his men walking in on me naked.

I curse myself for putting on such little clothing yesterday. And then I rack my brain, trying to find any memory of last night. Did I leave the apartment without Finn? Or did someone break in? I have no idea.

My body aches and I feel a little lightheaded. Plus I’m fucking starving. I didn’t eat after work, so all I’ve had in the past day was the granola bar I scarfed down on my way to work yesterday morning.

Water. I should drink water.

My only option is from the bathroom sink. It tastes different from what I’m used to, like it’s well water, not city water.

How far from home am I?

I glance out the windows. It’s snowing.

I bury my face in my hands. Even if I managed to get away, it’s freezing out there. I don’t even have shoes, let alone a coat. I’d probably die from exposure in a matter of hours, especially considering I’m soaked. Hell, it probably wouldn’t even take that long.

Pushing the thought away, I focus on getting warm. All I want to do is huddle in a corner and cry, but instead I head into the bathroom and turn the shower on. Then I lock the door and strip.

The water is warm, and I sigh in relief as I stand under the spray. Eventually, my goosebumps fade and my shivering stops. I’m still lightheaded, but I attribute that more to a lack of food than anything else.

It’s hard to keep my hair from getting more wet, but I manage okay. When I turn off the water and step out of the shower, I realize I don’t have anything to dry off with.

“Shit,” I mutter.

I try to wipe off as much water as I can before pulling my clothes back on. Then I step back into the bedroom, immediately regretting it. The bathroom warmed up significantly from the shower, and stepping into the main room feels like I’m inside the walk-in cooler at work.

I hear someone at the door and freeze. Not again. Not this soon.

It opens, and the kid from earlier slips through. He looks at me in a way that, strangely, reminds me of Rhett.

I wish he was here, I think, blinking back tears.

“I can’t help you escape,” the kid says, twisting a blanket nervously in his hands. “Jordan would kill me. But this—I think I can get away with this.”

---