I guess I should be grateful my brain is using this reaction right now instead of the one that would have me whimpering in a corner, begging my captors to set me free.
Instead of crying and begging, I’m as still as a mouse getting caught in the pantry, standing there frozen, in hopes of not being seen. My hearing is good but determining what the two guys in the other room are saying is impossible through the walls.
I thank my lucky stars for the SERE training I had in the Navy. The survival, evasion, resistance, and escape training will come in handy if I’m ever given the chance to put it to use. Obviously, as a woman taken off guard yesterday morning, I forgot that training and made it much too easy to be abducted. I could blame the four years between when I was discharged from the military and now for not responding the way I was taught, but that doesn’t really help the position I’m in now. Focusing on that will only lead to doubt and blame. I don’t have time for either right now.
The resistance training part of that is impossible because I’m not being grilled for information. I was scooped up off the street for one purpose only. I anticipate my captors have a very specific use for my mouth, and it has nothing to do with revealing information.
I shudder at the thought of what could happen to me but shake those thoughts away as well. I refuse to let fear settle inside of me, making me more vulnerable.
The door to the room I’m being held in swings open, and I stand with my back ramrod straight, ready to use the ropes tying my hands together to my benefit if the man walking in gets any closer. I’m willing to break both of my arms if it means hurting this man even a little. I’m not foolish enough to think begging will save me from anything he has in mind. The empty look in his eyes as he approaches tells me that.
“Such a pretty little thing,” he says, stopping several feet shy of me.
His teeth scrape over his bottom lip as his eyes dart the length of my body. He’s looking at me as if I’m standing here naked despite the lined leggings and t-shirt I’m wearing. It was very cool outside when I left my apartment to walk Peaches, but the man who grabbed me from the sidewalk managed to get my jacket off.
I do my best to keep my teeth from chattering as his eyes continue their perusal.
In any other situation, I’d find this man handsome with his blue but soulless eyes. His hair is scruffy in that just-got-out-of-bed way that would make some women swoon and imagine him lying down, crooking a finger at them to join him between the sheets. The scruff on his jaw is intentional, his neck shaved close, giving his jawline that perfect appeal.
His looks play into his behavior, and I hate to think that some of the women who have been here before me walked away with this man willingly, ignoring that weird feeling in their guts that something wasn’t quite right. I have no doubt this man uses his looks to his advantage.
“How many women have you done this to?” I snap, rather than shrinking back when he draws even closer.
“You’re the first,” he lies.
“So the claw marks on the door and the blood on the floor in the corner are from a dog or something?” I hate the way my voice trembles at the end of my question. It gives away too much of my emotion.
“My other pets are none of your concern.” His voice is as smooth as silk, raspy in all the right places that prove further he’s a master manipulator.
The thought that many women have been through this very thing makes me want to hurl. Knowing that I have limited chances to stop him, and that more women will end up here, makes me want to wish the entire world out of existence.
“I’m going to need you to shower.”
“That’s not going to happen.”
He smiles, as if he knew how I’d respond.
“We don’t have to do this the hard way,” he says, humor in his voice as if he’s hoping I resist further so he can have fun hurting me until I submit.
“There’s no other way,” I grind out, my fingers aching from squeezing my clasped hands.
I guess I should be grateful they’re tied in the front instead of behind my back, which would leave me completely vulnerable.
“As much as I’d like to take my time bending you to my will, your buyer will be here soon, and we don’t have much time. You need to shower.”
I shake my head but freeze the second he points a gun at me.