But even as he’s grunting behind me, I feel even more trauma sewing into my already fucked-up soul.
After Matteo finished,I was dropped into a suite and locked away. I scrubbed him off me the best I could and then set to trying to escape, which was useless.
This is where he keeps them.
Because there’s not a thing in the room that could be used as a weapon, bar taking something apart. Part of me wonders if cameras are hidden in the room to avoid that.
I had worked my entire life to not become likethem.I’ve hustled my ass off to have all that I have, and now I’m going to lose my job and lose all I’ve worked for because powerful men want to take what doesn’t belong to them. They think their bank accounts entitle them to far more than they do.
I plop on the reading bench before the only window in the room.
The moon is high in the sky, its nearly full glow casting down on my face as I look out over an enormous pool. A waterfall feeds it, and it seems far too comforting to have been designed by the homeowner.
I swallow over a tight lump in my throat. A shadow catches my eye, and I home in on it, forgetting every ache in my body and every worry in my brain.
Two men move through the backyard amongst the trees as shadows in the waning light.
What fresh hell is this, I wonder?
These men seem to live in constant upheaval, and I’m caught in the middle.
More and more men filter through the yard, guns drawn, bodies blacked out in tactical gear.
“What the fuck?” I whisper, pressing my face closer to the glass.
Gunfire sounds beyond my door, and my heart beats so fast that I can scarcely breathe. I scurry under the bed, shoving myself as far beneath it as possible.
Time seems to slow as gunfire is exchanged, and as tears roll down my face.
The door to my room bursts open, and I nearly cry out in fear.
I cover my mouth to silence my breathing as much as I can.
“Boss, this room is clear, too,” a man says into a radio, to which the reply comes, “All the rooms can’t be clear. She has to be here somewhere. Find her!”
The man mutters something and then goes into the bathroom. The shower curtain peels back before the closet door is thrust open. When his knees hit the floor, and a flashlight beam follows, I know I’m done for.
“Well, hello there,” he says, but there’s no malice in his tone. Nothing flips in my stomach like with all the men I’ve encountered recently.
“Sloane Collins?” he asks.
I nearly faint from the thrill of someone coming for me. But I don’t knowwhocame for me, that is the problem.
I nod, unable to speak through all the emotions and tears.
“Come on out. We have little time before Barone returns to the mess we’ve made. I won’t hurt you. I’m here to help,” he says.
I weigh my options. Staying here isn’t something that I could survive. Not with Matteo at the helm of my abuse, that would surely continue.
I slide from under the bed and slip into shoes as the massive man instructs me to.
He leads me with his gun drawn and his head on a swivel. “Boss, I’ve got her.”
“Good. Move out, boys,” the man on the other end says.
My stomach is excited at being free, but I don’t want to be premature by letting my walls down. I’ve been passed from powerful man to powerful man lately, and I don’t know if this isn’t the same situation all over again.
I’m led outside, tossed into a dark van, and the van speeds off at breakneck speed. There’s a partition between the back of the truck and the driver. I wait for the driver to look up so I can try to ask who he is or where he’s taking me.