Tough Love

Chapter Thirty

Chapter Thirty

I can't help but be a bit scared after Eli's revelation. It seems to be quite a heavy subject. I really do want to trust him now; I just can't quite seem to take that full leap of faith. I'm trying, really I am, but my past keeps throwing things in the way to stop me. My mind can't or won't allow me to just give in fully to Eli.

We quickly clean up the dinner mess and Eli watches some baseball while I read a book before bed. As we head into our rooms, Eli says, “Dani, please try to get some sleep. You'll crash again if you keep missing sleep. I'll be here if you have a nightmare. Ok?”

“Yes sir. Good night Eli.”

“Night sweetheart.”

I'm locked in that awful room..... Always this awful room. Sometimes it makes me want to scream. Other times I want to know what's outside of these four walls, but then I think maybe it's worse out there and maybe I don't want to know. Somehow, though, I don't think it can get much worse. I've had a few days off because the last guy ruined my body. Apparently, I wasn't up to standard, so they drugged me even more and left me to 'heal'. I suppose I should be thankful for the small things and at least I've had a few days on my own. Although my body is a complete mess and I can't 'enjoy' being on my own. It allows my mind to open up to everything and that's never a good thing. I can hardly move because everything hurts so much. You know, it's not even the pain that's the worst thing. The worst thing is the smell. The smell of sweat, seeping wounds, dirty men with their dirty deeds, burning flesh and shame. Now, I don't know if an emotion actually has a smell, but it sure feels like it.

Just when I think I'm drifting off into drug haze in my solitude, the lock slides open and a rough looking man walks in. I hear the guy on the other side of the door say, “You've got 40 minutes.” They only ever talk Russian in here. My brain ponders that thought while the man appears in my line of vision. He looks cold and rough; his gray eyes cold like steel. He's a big man, with stubble on his chin. He speaks in Russian as he says, “Take them all off.... Now.” I don't need to ask what he means, it's a common line. I do as he says and he smirks. “Now dance.” Again, I do as he says, hurting inside and out. Ashamed of myself, but knowing my body can't take much more of a beating. I'm obviously doing something wrong, because he stands right behind me to guide my body, deliberately brushing his body over mine. When I don't do it exactly as he wants, he grabs my hair and kicks my legs out from underneath me. I land in a heap on the floor and almost cry out in pain. I can't even begin to describe the pain that shoots through my body, even through the amount of drugs I have been given. “Do it again.” This is his thing; control. As we go through this process a few times, I can see he's getting excited. When his body is trembling with power and excitement, he roughly throws me on the and does what they all do eventually; has his wicked way with my body. I have to bite back the tears, because everything hurts me. It's almost like I'm floating above my body and watching everything, but I'm also feeling all of the physical pain as well.

I wake up screaming and Eli is at my door in a heartbeat. “Baby, I'm coming into the room. It's just me...”

I don't answer, I just sob. I can feel the bed shaking underneath me and I briefly wonder why. I don't have to wonder for long, because Eli says, “Baby, you're shaking. What happened?”

Before I can stop my mouth, the words flies out, “Viktor...”

I hear Eli gasp and that does nothing to calm me down. I think he forgets himself for a minute, because I hear him grind out in Spanish, “I should have punched him when I had the chance...”