Page 82 of Take Me Back
Vander studies me for a moment, no doubt trying to determine my sincerity. He must see the truth because he jerks his head toward a closed door.
“Bathroom is through there. Go shower. There’s nothing you can use as a weapon, but April will introduce you to a new level of pain if you try anything at all.” He closes the distance between us as he talks, finally reaching out to grip my chin with two fingers. “Understand me, Kat?”
I nod.
Vander straightens and stretches out a hand, palm up. April pulls a wicked-looking blade from a sheath at her side and, holding it by the tip, places the handle in Vander’s hand.
It takes everything I have to muster one last show of courage and not shrink away and squeeze my eyes shut.
I watch as he slices through the ropes and tape binding me. The skin on my wrists is flayed and dripping with blood. When removing the restraints tears off small pieces, I flinch, despite trying not to.
“Idiot.” Over his shoulder, he tells April, “Make sure you get a first aid kit and wrap these up when she’s done showering.”
April nods.
Is she mute?The question enters my mind as Vander crouches to slice through my ankle restraints and peels them off, cursing again and sending stabs of pain through my legs.
“Get in the fucking shower. April will have something for you to wear after she cleans these up. Don’t do anything stupid.”
With his last warning delivered, Vander rises and strides from the room, slamming the door behind him.
April’s dark eyes meet mine as she jerks her head toward the bathroom door. “Go. Don’t make me hurt you.”
She speaks.
I stand slowly and carefully, hoping I don’t fall on my face and give her a reason to kill me.
I’m not going to let them kill me. Dane is still out there.
As I walk toward the bathroom, the tears I thought I’d cried out burn behind my eyes.
Unless he’s already dead.
No. I don’t believe that.
I force the thoughts away and step into the opulent white-and-gold bathroom. Fluffy white towels are rolled and tucked into niches in the wall near the shower enclosure.
I make a mistake, glancing into the mirror above the sink, and freeze.
A wide dark bruise is beginning to show on my cheekbone. My eyes are bloodshot. The corner of my mouth is bleeding.
How is he going to hide all that for the photos?
The obvious answer occurs to me. “Photoshop. He’s going to Photoshop me.”
Human trafficking 101.
My shoulders slump, and I’ve never looked more defeated.
Fuck them. Fuck this.
I swallow back the pity and straighten.I’m better than this. I won’t cower.
“Get in the fucking shower.” April’s reflection appears in the mirror as she steps closer. “Don’t waste my time, or I promise you’ll regret it.”
I turn for the shower, and without caring that she’s going to see me naked, I strip the torn and dirty cover-up over my head and drop it on the floor before reaching for the door.
After turning the water on, I wait for it to get hot before stepping into the stream. It stings my cuts and torn skin, but within moments, I’m thankful for it. I reach for the soap, wishing it was as easy to scrub away today as the dirt marking my skin.
