Page 146 of Pink

TWENTY-EIGHT

GIGI WASN’T sure what woke her up, but the bright glare of sunlight made her squeeze her eyes shut the second she dared to crack them open. The confusion that had become her constant companion since being taken had finally waned enough that when she woke up now, the only thing she felt was fear.

About what was waiting; what might happen.

Everything.

This time was no exception, but Gigi had become better at hiding it over the past couple of days. Especially after waking in the night to find Jensen looming in the doorway of the bedroom that she was told would be hers until she was deemed suitable. Whatever in the fuck that was supposed to mean.

Compliant?

Willing to be raped regularly?

Capable of taking a beating?

That’s what it meant to Jensen if she was to trust his actions since kidnapping her to be what he planned to continue to do. The only thing he hadn’t done to Gigi since their arrival at the massive, Roman-style estate hidden deep within a Mexican bay? Threatened to kill her. Apparently, because he intended to keep her.

That was even more terrifying.

Except the asshole liked her fear; fed off it, even. She refused to give him anything to urge on his more violent or sadistic nature, not when it meant suffering far worse consequences and not when it meant he liked it.

Fuck him.

He wanted a doll. A beautiful, broken doll willing to be abused at his demand that he could put back on the shelf—or a locked room, in her current case—whenever he became bored or had something else to do.

Gigi’s current nightmare was far too real for her to play whatever game of make-believe Jensen had tried to set up for them both at this place. So, while she refused to show him the constant terror he caused with just his presence alone, she also couldn’t go along with the game he had started.

No, she fought.

Every rape.

Every hit.

Every time.

He liked that a lot less.

The armed guards posted on the property, or the few she had seen during her times outside of the bedroom she had been confined to a lot during the day, were seemingly fine to help Jensen. No doubt, the pay for their compliance in hiding and controlling Gigi when necessary, or turning their cheeks to what was going on, made it worth it for the men.

There was no reprieve.

No help.

She was alone. Entirely, utterly alone in a terrible hell, one she couldn’t have imagined even in her worst nightmares. Yet, her nightmare was Jensen’s dream come true.

Monsters really did exist.

They wore tailored suits, had too much money and smiled like humans.

They were real.

And she didn’t know how she was going to escape hers, but the small spark of hope that someone—God, anyone—would make this all go away hadn’t left her yet. She prayed that someone was coming even if it had been made clear to Gigi time and time again by Jensen that no one was looking for her despite who she was and the circumstances of her disappearance. Because she didn’t have a reason to believe otherwise, there was a small part of her that thought he might be telling the truth.

Another part refused to accept that. Someone was looking for her. Lev; she just knew it. It hurt her heart to think about the man and his little girl that had tried so hard to keep her safe back in New York, but it was also the only ray of happiness she had.

Just the thought of him gave her hope.

So she kept dreaming.