Total pages in book: 145
Estimated words: 131455 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 657(@200wpm)___ 526(@250wpm)___ 438(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 131455 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 657(@200wpm)___ 526(@250wpm)___ 438(@300wpm)
“Aren't you going to respond?” I demand, standing beside the bucket, trying like hell not to look inside, because these assholes refuse to empty it.
“Yeah.” His lips turn up into a full-on, nauseating smile. “I was actually just thinking about how I can't wait till the boss says it's okay for us to get to know you better.”
My stomach churns when he reaches down and grabs his crotch through his jeans. Like I needed a visual explanation.
“I'd think long and hard about that because the moment you put a hand on me, is the moment you'll end up losing that hand,” I vow, meeting his gaze.
“You're a real big talker, but I don't see anyone coming to rescue you yet. A smart girl would learn her place around here before talking shit like you are.”
My biggest concern is keeping myself alive. I don't know how long these guys will treat me decently—not that there's anything decent about watching me relieve myself, which I have no choice but to do while they watch me do it. I'm both ashamed and embarrassed, but I have to be strong the way I know Callum would need me to be.
Somewhere out there, he's looking for me, and the only thing I can do is keep it together until he gets here. I refuse to let Jack think he's won. That thought alone keeps me from shattering into a million pieces. I'm not going to give him that type of satisfaction. He thinks he's dealing with a weak, fragile flower. Except I'm not a flower. I'm a Queen and given the opportunity, I'd kill him and anyone else I have to in order to save myself and my baby.
“Satisfied?” I ask once I'm finished peeing.
“I'll be a lot more satisfied when the boss loosens up the rules.” He's even breathing heavier than before, the noise making my stomach churn. It takes a certain kind of sickness to get off on the despair of another individual.
“Hey, remember what I said. I doubt I would be breaking any woman's heart by castrating you. In fact, I'd probably be doing them a favor.” My panic rises when he turns toward the door, and I blurt out, “Where is Jack? I want to see him.”
“It's a real shame you don't call the shots.”
“I'm serious. I want to talk to Jack.”
“So am I.” He lets out a malicious laugh before leaving the room, swinging the heavy door back into place with a thud before the lock clicks into place.
Now that I'm alone, I can let the mask fall. Putting on a front is exhausting, and the exhaustion only gets worse with every visit from these assholes. No matter how hard I try, there is no fighting back the fear that races through me. It isn't easy to ignore the doubt tickling the back of my mind now that a full day has passed, and it's dark all over again, signaling the end of another day. So much time has passed, and Callum still hasn't found me. I know he's trying—I believe that to the depths of my soul—but that doesn't mean he's anywhere close.
How much longer until they're no longer satisfied following Jack's rules, which probably aren't going to be strictly enforced anyway. These do not seem like patient or smart men, for that matter. They're bored, probably irritated that they have to be here to guard me.
Eventually, they're going to want some entertainment, something to make it worth their time. Humiliation appears to be their favorite tactic at the moment, because, of course it's more fun to hurt me than it is to watch paint dry, and I'm sure Jack enjoys knowing I'm being humiliated. Instead of lying back down on the dirty cot, where springs poke at me no matter how I position myself, I throw my arms over my head to try to loosen the stiffness in my muscles.
Being in this cold, nasty place isn't helping any. I finally came to the conclusion that this is some basement, but to what building, I'm not sure. I can reach the window enough to know it's painted shut, but I can't see much of anything besides the sky when I look through it.
The frame to the cot is heavy, but not so heavy I couldn't drag it across the room and stand on it to get a better view. The only issue is that I don't need any of the men in the hall hearing me. I'm sure it would make a terrible screeching noise, dragging the rusted metal over a concrete floor. If I was only concerned about myself, I would still try it. They might slap me around a little, but I could handle it, but there's more than just myself to think about now. I guess I don't need to see outside that badly if it means risking another life to do it.