Total pages in book: 94
Estimated words: 89934 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 450(@200wpm)___ 360(@250wpm)___ 300(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 89934 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 450(@200wpm)___ 360(@250wpm)___ 300(@300wpm)
The guard shoved her to the left as she exited the room. “I said get your hands off me.”
Behind her, he laughed so loud it drowned out the sound of Kelsie’s sobs. “Let’s see how long that sass lasts. Actually, keep it. It’ll be more fun for our customers if you’re spitting and hissing like a little pussy cat. Meow.” He laughed again. “They love you feisty ones. So much fun to subdue.”
His words had her steps faltering, but she recovered quickly. She swallowed a lump of fear lodged in her throat.
They were words, just words meant to scare her.
And they did their job damn well.
“Keep walking.” He nudged her again.
This time, she bit the inside of her cheek to keep from mouthing off.
“End of the hall. Door on the left.”
Each step took her closer to hell. She might as well have been walking a plank, watching the distance to her doom shorten. A bottomless ocean of churning dark water might not await her, but she was screwed, nonetheless.
They reached the end of the hallway way too fast. Bolt opened another heavy door.
“Shower. Dry. Change. You have fifteen minutes. Leave the hair wet. Makes you look… younger.” He smirked, and her blood ran cold.
Younger?
She must have hesitated too long because the next thing she knew, he pushed her into the room with all his strength. Brenna cried out as she staggered forward. Her shoe caught a crack, and she went down hard, wincing as her palms met the hard floor.
Bolt laughed and shut the door.
Fifteen minutes wasn’t much, but she gave herself one of those minutes to breathe and take in her surroundings. The room wasn’t too different from where she and Kelsie were being held. A cave-like structure, only this one had a showerhead coming from the wall straight ahead and a drain in the center of the floor. Generic bottles of what she assumed were shampoo, conditioner, and body wash sat in a small puddle. To her right, a wooden bench held a thin towel and clothing. A cracked mirror hung from the wall above the bench.
“Fifteen fucking minutes. Turn on the water,” Bolt shouted. “Unless you want a hand?”
That was all the motivation she needed. “No. I got it.”
She turned on the water and backed away from the spray. What were the chances this place had warm water instead of an icy shower? Countless hours of sitting on the floor had her feeling grimy and smelly. Cold water would still get her clean.
Sure enough, as she stuck her hand in the stream, nothing but icy drops hit her hand.
After a glance toward the flimsy door, she quickly undressed. Even though she knew her privacy and body were about to be violated, she still couldn’t stand the idea of Bolt watching her shower. At least give her a few more minutes of dignity before they stole everything from her.
Shivers racked her the instant she stepped under the frigid spray. Few things sucked more than a cold shower, though she had a feeling it would end up being the best part of her day when all was said and done. Maybe the discomfort was for the best. If she’d stepped into a warm, comforting cascade of water, she would likely break down sobbing in a hysterical heap on the floor. As it was, she rushed through cleaning herself with efficient movements to end the torment.
After the world’s fastest cleanup, she killed the water and grabbed the towel. It didn’t amount to much more than a large hand towel and did a terrible job drying her off. Shivering with violent jerks, she grabbed the first piece of clothing from the pile only to drop it as though it were a slimy reptile.
“No,” she whispered, shaking her head.
Hell no.
She forced herself to pick it up and examine the garment. They’d provided a frilly white dress like a little girl might wear, complete with pink bows and puffy sleeves. Beside the dress waited a pair of black patent leather Mary Janes. Next to the shoes was a bag. Brenna pressed a hand over her mouth as she peeked in the bag. Her eyes fell, and her heart sank to the floor.
The bag contained a giant rainbow lollipop and a fluffy brown teddy bear.
They wanted her to dress like a freaking toddler.
What. The. Fuck.
“Two minutes left,” Bolt called out.
Liar.
She had at least seven. “I’m not wearing this, you sick fuck,” she shouted back as she threw the dress back on the bench.
“You put it on, or I put it on you.”
The thought of him touching her to dress her made her skin crawl.
Brenna closed her eyes and took a cleansing breath. It didn’t work. Dread still clung to her. In the next few minutes, she’d be trotted out in front of a group of deranged men. They’d bid on her while she stood there dressed like a child. Then, one would win her.