Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 80207 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 401(@200wpm)___ 321(@250wpm)___ 267(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 80207 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 401(@200wpm)___ 321(@250wpm)___ 267(@300wpm)
Her voice is small as she replies, “I know.”
“Once Prodi is convinced I love you, they’re going to rape you.”
Everleigh wraps her arms around my neck and presses her body hard against mine. I feel the trembles wracking through her slender frame.
“Don’t love me, Alek. You’re good at controlling your emotions.”
My eyes drift shut as I tell her about the catch twenty-two we’re stuck in, “If I don’t love you, they’ll kill you. Your only purpose is to break me.”
Everleigh lets out a sob and starts to cry against my chest. “I’d rather die than be raped by all of them.”
My arms tighten around her, and silence falls between us as I face off with the hardest decision I’ve ever had to make in my life.
If I don’t fall in love with Everleigh, she’ll be killed.
If I love her, she’ll be raped. I’ll probably also be forced to choose who gets tortured between her and Vincent.
I know my limits. Mentally I won’t survive them being tortured.
Chapter 12
Everleigh
I think it’s been two weeks since we were kidnapped.
The only way we keep track of time is when we’re allowed to go to the restrooms. But the days are blurring together.
I don’t get hungry anymore, and it’s hard to eat the little food they give us. I always give three-quarter of mine to Alek. He needs it more than me.
Because of our situation, I don’t process things the way I would typically do. My survival instinct is stuck in overdrive, and honestly, it feels like a lifetime has passed since Alek and I were forced to have sex.
My pinky nail is starting to grow back, but Alek said it will take around eight months to grow out fully.
The cut on his forearm is almost completely healed, but the stab wound is taking a little longer. At least it didn’t damage any nerves, and he can move all his fingers.
Instead of letting the trauma overwhelm me, I’m more worried because my period is due in a week. Or maybe it’s just a couple of days. I can’t tell.
I’ve heard some women don’t get their period when they suffer from malnutrition or are subjected to severe stress. I’m hoping it’s the case with me because I have no idea what I’ll do once I start bleeding. I don’t think the Italians will supply me with feminine products.
“What are you thinking about?” Alek asks from where he’s sitting next to me.
I don’t even get embarrassed as I admit, “I’m worried that my period is due any day.”
“Blyadʹ,” he curses under his breath.
“I don’t think they’re going to do a tampon run for me.”
“They won’t.”
Alek’s hand brushes against my arm before he takes hold of me. I’m pulled onto his lap, and he wraps his arms around me.
It’s become our go-to position to sleep in.
“Try not to think of it until it happens,” he whispers.
It’s never been in my nature to share personal information with people, but being locked up with Alek, it’s as if all our boundaries have been stripped away.
“The first time I had my period, my mom was away for work. I used toilet paper because I was too embarrassed to ask my dad for feminine products.”
Every conversation between us is honest and raw, and it’s making me care for him more than I’ve ever cared about anyone.
Being stuck in secluded darkness with him is making us form one hell of an intense bond, and it makes me fear what will happen when Prodi realizes his plan worked.
Alek fumbles in the darkness until he finds my hand, and like the nights before, we link our fingers. His thumb brushes over my skin.
Alek must think about the same thing as me because he says, “It’s only a matter of time before Prodi drags us out of this room.”
“What are we going to do when that happens?”
Without hesitation, he answers, “I’ll do my best so they torture me and leave you alone.”
I haven’t been able to cry for the past week. It’s like my tears dried up.
“We just have to pretend we don’t care about each other,” I remind him.
Alek’s other hand lifts to the back of my neck, and he tugs me closer. “The moment they try to rape you, I won’t be able to pretend.”
Oh, God.
My face crumbles, and there are only dry sobs. “I’d rather die, Alek.”
He presses his forehead against mine. “No.” He clears his throat. “It’s crazy to think it’s only been a couple of weeks, but being imprisoned with you in this hell is making it impossible for me not to care about you.” He lets out a huff. “It’s like the darkness has fused us. I don’t even know where I end and you begin.”
Our heightened emotions make it hard to focus on reality.
“I feel the same,” I admit.
I feel his breaths on my lips as he admits, “I can’t fight it anymore.”