They would never break me.
Hewould never break me.
They didn’t botherwith the torture today—at least the mental kind. The witch said if they pushed me any harder without a break, there was a really good chance they could shatter my brain. Amber—fucking traitorous bitch—graciously argued thatthat was the point. Shit Stain told her to shut her mouth, he wanted a functioning wife, not a vegetable. But he still let her waterboard me for an hour before I was brought back here.
He was going to regret that.
They sent my usual doctor to double check the bandages on my back from the whipping they’d given me a couple weeks ago. She was surprised to report that I was healing really well. There was no sign of infection and there was no blood on the bandages. She kept prattling on and on about how impressive the medical team was.
“It might not even scar. Isn’t that wonderful?”
Lucky for me, she was a fucking idiot.
She left after telling me to rest.Wow, that’s really great advice. Thank you so much.
Niko came out of hiding the second the door shut. It was our routine now. He’d talk to me, taking a different form every time, and I would listen, nodding along so he knew I was paying attention. Sometimes he would give me an update, whatever new information he managed to come across. Mostly he just tried to make me laugh. These days he was lucky to get a smile out of me.
I was spending too much time locked in my own mind. Watching everything play out like it wasn’t happening to me. Like I was just a girl in a movie theatre, watching helplessly as the main character was torn apart on screen.
I was worried that if I didn’t escape the mountain soon, I might get trapped in my own mind permanently.
Are you okay?
I blinked once.Yes.
What can I do?
I shook my head.Nothing.
He shifted into the form of a king shepherd and curled up next to me. I ran my hand over him absentmindedly. I knew hewasn’t a real dog, he didn’t feel like a real dog, but he was warm and that was all it took to pretend. Plus, having a little piece of Austin helped centre me.
When was the last time I even smiled?
Last week, maybe?
Yes, that sounded right. When one of the guards tried to rape me, and I bit off his finger.
Him and hispartner walked me all the way to the bed, and he twirled my hair around his finger. I was working my consciousness forward—it was a particularly bad mental session, and I’d had to hide farther away.
“What the fuck are you doing? Boss said not to touch her,” the partner said.
“How the fuck would he find out? She’s basically comatose. She’s not going to tell him.” He looked at me. “Isn’t that right, beautiful?”
I continued staring straight ahead and he grinned.
“See? I can do whatever I want. She won’t even fight me.”
“Come on man, that’s not right.”
The first guy moved his finger from my hair, across my cheek, and over my mouth. “Relax, just stand outside, I’ll be quick.”
“No, dude, quit fucking around. I’m not getting killed for you.”
He rolled his eyes, pulling my bottom lip down.
“Come on, you can’t tell me her mouth isn’t a little bit tempting.” He pressed his thumb against my teeth and I let my mouth fall open. “Look, she wants it. Come on just?—”
You know how people always say you can bite off a finger as easily as you bite into a carrot, but you don’t because your brain tells you not to? Well, I managed to override that programming and bit down as hard as I could.
