Page 6 of Merciless

My mind takes me back to better times. To running around the backyard with my little sister. To laughter and happiness. To drinking and smoking with my husband, enjoying having a real friend for the first time in my life.

But my door never opens.

No visitor appears.

I know what he’s doing.

The devil wearing nothing but his ripped muscles and a pair of dangerously low-hanging gray sweatpants and a few blood splatters is letting me sweat it out.

He wants me weak, vulnerable, and desperate.

He should know better though. I’m more than used to this.

The solitude, the loneliness, the hunger, the cold.

They’re all welcome friends.

The past few years might have been a little more comfortable, but that doesn’t mean I’ve forgotten how to survive when times get tough.

It’s how I know I’m going to make it through whatever Reid Harris throws at me. Unless it’s one of those knives I’ve already seen in his cabinet of torture devices beyond the reinforced locked door I’m stuck behind.

One of those bad boys might just take me down.

I guess if it’s my time, then there really is no better way to go to hell than to be condemned by the devil himself.

A wicked smirk curls my lips.

Yeah, maybe my stay here won’t be so bad.

I mean, hell, things have certainly been worse than they are right now.

* * *

I’ve no idea how much time passes. I’ve no idea if it’s day or night when I open my eyes again.

The bright spotlights in the ceiling of my cell still shine down on me from above, and it’s still as cold as it was before I fell asleep.

The only difference is that my stomach is growling, desperate for some food, and my need for the bathroom means I’m going to have to give the toilet in the corner a whirl.

Could be worse. It could be a bucket.

Been there before.

I do my thing and wash my hands in the tiny sink before bending down and drinking the cold water straight from the faucet.

I’ve no idea if it’s fresh, but it’s all I’ve got. And I have no intention of giving that asshole an easy way out by dying of dehydration before we get to have any more fun.

He’s coming for me. I know he is. He’s just… waiting. Biding his time.

He wants me weak and vulnerable, so I cave to his will and answer his questions.

But it won’t happen.

He can hurt me, punish me, abuse me.

I won’t spill my secrets.

There is only one person in this world who’s ever protected me. And I will not thank them by putting their life in danger, by putting them directly in the line of enemy fire.

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