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“Okay,” she said softly. “Okay.” She realized now that she was never leaving this room. No matter what he said. Her only opportunity for survival was to capitalize on a mistake he might make. She closed her eyes and took a deep, steadying breath. Her hands still shook as she grasped the hem of her shirt and pulled it up over her head.
She pushed her shorts and panties down to the floor and stepped out of them. He must have already taken her shoes. She crossed her arms in front of herself in an attempt to shield even a little bit of herself from his gaze. He approached her and she squeezed her eyes shut. His fingers found her belly and traced one of the scars. She refused to open her eyes but she could tell he’d leaned in close. His hot, fetid breath was in her ear. “See these, Sarah? I made these. These are mine. You’re mine.” Hayley said nothing. “Say it,” he demanded. She remained silent. “Say it! Say you’re mine!”
When Hayley still didn’t respond, he grabbed a handful of her hair. “Say that you’re mine,” he growled. He’d apparently had enough of her stubbornness. Without releasing her hair, he grabbed her arm with his other hand and dragged her forward. Hayley’s bare feet crossed the soft area rug to the hardwood floor and then onto the chilled tile of the en suite bathroom. He release her arm long enough to reach into the shower and turn on the water.
With his fingers threaded through her hair, he shoved her into the stall. She cried out from the sting of the freezing water. He let go and stepped back. “Wash yourself,” he commanded. It took Hayley a moment to catch her breath. Apparently not moving fast enough, he grabbed a bar of soap off the ledge and pushed it into her hand. “Clean yourself.”
He watched as Hayley slowly, so very slowly, lathered up the soap in her palms. Her skin was welting from the cold spray.
“I’m taking back what’s mine, Sarah,” he told her. “But not right now,” he informed her. “Right now, you need a good cleaning. Because I don’t want his filth on me.”
Hayley ran the soap down one arm and he, enraged, snatched her wrist. He grabbed the bar from her and lathered up his own hands. “Not like that!” he snapped. He reached out and shoved his hand between her legs. Hayley screamed. He pressed his free arm across her midsection, pinning her to the shower wall and rammed his fingers into her.
“Shut up!” he shouted at her. “Do you let him touch you, Sarah? Do you? Does he fuck you? Do you let him have what’s mine?”
“Go to hell,” Hayley replied, through gritted teeth. He raised his hand and the resounding slap reverberated throughout the bathroom.
He clenched the bar of soap in his fist, and punched her in the stomach. She cried out and doubled over. “Take the fucking soap and start scrubbing, whore.” Hayley took the bar and reluctantly started to wash herself, crying quietly.
“I swear to God, Sarah,” he said. “If any part of you smells like his filth, I will take my knife and carve it out of you. Do you remember my knife, Sarah?” She sobbed in response. “Yeah,” he said, satisfied. “You remember.”
She was shivering uncontrollably while trying to meet her captor’s demands. She fumbled the slippery bar and began retching into the spray. He reached in and grabbed her by the hair again and yanked her out. “You are not listening, Sarah! Do you want me to cut off strips of your skin while you watch? Because I can do that. I can do that, Sarah! Get back in there and scrub yourself clean you filthy, filthy whore!”
Finally Hayley realized her moment might not come. No one knew he had her. No one knew where she was. She could give in to him and still never have the opportunity to try and save herself. She tried to twist out of his hold. “No! You don’t touch me!” she screamed. “You don’t ever touch me!” They both slipped on the wet floor, which caused him to loosen his grip on hair. She seized her moment, the only moment she might ever have. Instead of running she lunged forward, ramming her shoulder into his chest. He fell backwards, she was still moving forward and both of them burst through the glass shower door.
Glass landed everywhere. The force of their momentum sent them straight down onto the floor of the shower stall. He clawed at her trying to gain a hold. She raked her hand through the debris and came up with a shard. She immediately went for his neck. He had to let go of her arm to try and protect himself so she wrapped one hand around the other and clung desperately to her weapon, even though it was slicing into her own hand. She brought it up and slammed it down again, this time it skittered down the neck and caught on the collar bone.
