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THIRTY-FIVE
Catalina
Iwake up to a splittingheadache and remember getting hit over the head right after that motherfucker recorded himself cutting me. I glance down at my chest and see someone glued the two cuts. How fucking nice of them. Looking around the room, I notice the tray is still sitting close by, and I wonder how long I've been out. There are no windows to tell me whether it's daytime or nighttime, so I have to sit here and wait.
My stomach rumbles, and I realize I haven't eaten anything since I've been here; I've been tied up the whole time. Well, except for when I was changed while I was passed out. I'm still in the boy shorts and sports bra from earlier, so that's a plus. It tells me that my clothes remained on this time.
It's about an hour after I've woken up when I hear the door open, and the big guy comes back in carrying a tray this time. I watch as he walks over to the cart and places the tray on top of it, metal clattering once again as it's moved around.
I'm taking in everything, so the first chance I get, I can get the fuck out of here. I will not die here, no matter what I have to do. I'm so busy being inside my head, trying to figure shit out, that I don't notice the fucker standing beside me. The tape is ripped from my mouth, and I can't help but cry out.
“Fuck! Seriously? You couldn't warn me first?” I scowl.
The guy gives me a creepy laugh using the voice changer, “My bad.” He then shoves a piece of bread in my mouth, “Just on the off chance that your father comes clean and we release you, we won't starve you entirely.” He then holds a bottle of water to my lips.
Once I swallow, I glare at the masked guy, “Well, aren't you a good fucking Samaritan!”
“Has anyone ever told you that you swear like a sailor?” Mr. Mask questions.
I shrug, “Maybe a time or two, but does it look like I give a fuck?” I cock my brow.
“I thought you were supposed to be a Lady?”
I scoff, “I've never claimed to be one, so I don't know where you're getting your information.”
“Yeah, well, you need to shut the fuck up and finish your bread. I'm already tired of hearing your mouth.” My abductor states as he holds another piece to my mouth.
“How about a bathroom? If I don't go soon, I will piss all over, and you will have a mess to clean.” I tell him as I chew the dry bread. It's not a lie; I have to go, but I also need to see what's beyond this room.
“You think I'm stupid, Cat?” He sets the bread down and picks up the scalpel from the cart, “Sit really still unless you want that slutty cunt all cut up.”
“What? No! Don't come near me with that thing!” I try moving, but it's no use.
He slaps another piece of tape over my mouth before squatting and feeling under the chair. I jerk when I feel his hand touch my crotch, not realizing that there is a hole in the bottom of this chair. He pulls on the material and cuts through it, causing me to feel a draft once he's done. A five-gallon bucket is then slid under the chair.
“There is your throne, Your Royal Highness.” The fucker laughs and walks out, leaving me alone once again.
I glare at his back, but honestly, I don't care because my bladder hurts so much. At least he's given me some privacy, so as soon as the door closes, I sigh as I release myself in the bucket below. I close my eyes at that feeling of satisfaction, you know the one I'm talking about.
I feel my eyelids become heavy. The asshole has drugged me again. Was it the bread or the water, I wonder? I didn't take much of either, so hopefully, I won't be out long. Those are my last thoughts before darkness takes hold again.
Ihear a grinding noiseand jerk awake. The heavy door slams closed as my eyes adjust to the room's low lighting, but then the ring light is turned on once again, and dread fills me. Seeing movement beside me, my head snaps in that direction to find my kidnapper wiping down the items on the cart; a strong alcohol scent burns my nose.
I try begging through the tape, but all he does is turn and wink at me through his mask. The guy is big, and I know I could never take him physically, but if I could only get my hands on one of those scalpels, I'd stab him in the fucking eyes so he can never wink again. When he begins to whistle, I try pulling on the tape around my legs even though it's no use. This guy is psycho, enjoying my torture too much, and I have to try anything to escape.
