Total pages in book: 69
Estimated words: 69398 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 347(@200wpm)___ 278(@250wpm)___ 231(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 69398 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 347(@200wpm)___ 278(@250wpm)___ 231(@300wpm)
Suddenly, fear cripples me, and I realize I’m in a very dangerous situation.
“It’s okay, I’m just going to pick something up and we’ll turn around.”
“You went right past my house. I need you to stop,” I say, trying to keep it together but feeling like I might just scream.
“Calm down, it’s fine.”
“Please pull over.”
“Lady, it’s fine.”
“Pull over!” I scream.
He lashes out, slamming his fist into the side of my head.
I bounce off the window with a scream and start immediately trying to unbuckle my seatbelt. I’ll jump out of this truck. I will not be someone’s prisoner again.
He reaches for me when he realizes what I’m trying to do and goes to hit me again. I duck this time, having had some experience with learning how to defend myself in a dangerous situation. I lash out and hit him in the ribs, causing him to swerve the truck. He reaches down beside his seat and pulls out a gun, and everything in my world stops.
“You move again, I’ll blow your brains out. I’ve done it before, I’ll do it again. See the blood on the fucking window, that’s the last girl who tried to fight me.”
I glance down and sure enough there is dried blood at the base of the window, right where it goes into the door. There isn’t much, you wouldn’t notice if you weren’t looking, but it’s there. Like he’s cleaned it up but left a little.
“Please, just let me go.”
“Shut up, and don’t fucking move.”
He pulls the truck over to the side of the road and keeps the gun on me. He reaches down into his door again and pulls out a set of cuffs. I shake my head, tears rolling down my cheeks.
“Put them on, or I start shooting.”
I hesitate and he slams the gun over my head again, making my world spin. Then, he’s jerking my hands forward and snapping the cuffs on. I’m dazed and unable to do anything but stop myself from passing out. My eyes flutter open and closed again, everything spinning.
“Don’t worry,” he murmurs, starting the truck up again. “You be good, you’ll get out alive.”
I don’t believe him.
I don’t believe a single word coming out of his mouth. I know these kinds of men, these kinds of monsters.
Because of that, I have learned a lot. I know what they want, what they like, what they don’t like. They want fear and pain, they want a victim.
I’m not going to be a victim.
Oh no.
Not this time.
This time, I’m going to get out of here with my head held high.
He won’t break me, I’ll make sure of it.
I close my eyes and act like I’ve passed out. A hit that hard is very likely to cause problems, and I play along with that. He’d be expecting I’d fight, if I were awake, so if I’m not fighting, then I must be out of it. I groan and shift every now and then, murmuring incoherent things.
He drives for a little longer and then, finally, the truck comes to a stop.
He gets out, and I crack my eyes open to see we’re in the middle of some woods and there is an old, worn-down cabin sitting by a stream. If you were to see it at any other time, you’d say it was spectacular. But right now, it’s the ultimate nightmare. The chances of running from something like this is next to none. He probably knows these woods like the back of his hand and he knows exactly where I’d run, if I were to do so.
I have to outsmart him, I just don’t know how I’m going to do that yet.
I do know one thing is for sure, I’m going to go against every automatic instinct I have, the expectations he has of me, and I’m going to change the way this goes. I have spent many hours after being saved by the club, thinking back on my time with Bryant and how so many things would have been different if I wasn’t so afraid.
If I didn’t fight every time they attacked me.
If I wasn’t so timid and quiet.
That’s exactly what they wanted from me.
People like that, they get off on someone else’s fear. It thrills them to see someone scream and beg. They get great satisfaction.
I’m not going to give him any of that.
It’ll probably frustrate him.
Maybe it’ll bore him and he’ll treat me worse.
Either way, I’m going down a different road.
I’m going to play a different game.
Because I can’t be the person I was last time—that person destroyed me.
I close my eyes again when he reaches the truck door and opens it, grabbing me and hauling me out. I stir and squirm, my eyes flickering, but it doesn’t seem to bother him. He takes me inside and there are some shuffling sounds and then I hear him open a door, walk in, and he places me on something. He secures me to what feels like a hard bed, my hands above my head, and then ... it’s quiet.