A Sweet Disaster

Chapter 12

Her throat was parched.

They’d refused to give her water, or even any food, and it had already been one night. She’d been allowed to go to the loo once, but that was the only time.

“It’s ten in the morning,” she heard the smaller man murmur to the other buff one. “If boss doesn’t get that call by three, he’s going to kill the girl.”

Heart racing, Stephanie strained her ears for more, but they had shut up.

She was beyond afraid. She’d already gotten past that point where every move the criminal makes scares you to death, she was numb, and now whenever Johnson slashed her across the face, or cut her with a rusty knife, she prayed she would be found, and even if she was found dead, she hoped Johnson, at least, would be met with justice.

Eyes straying down to her thigh, she saw faint red lines that looked like blood running up her leg, disappearing beneath her shorts. Blood poisoning.

She didn’t feel the shock. It was as if she was behind a glass wall, watching everything that was happening to her body.

Johnson appeared before her. He’d gotten over his anger at her taunting, and was now hell bent on making her suffer as much as possible.

“I’ve gotten tired of cutting you,” he said, running his tongue over his teeth. So have I, Steph thought, but she didn’t have to strength to voice it.

Advancing, Johnson put a finger on her thigh, running it lightly over the bloody streaks. “Does this hurt?” he asked.

Steph didn’t respond, only looking at him with wary green eyes.

“How about this?” He dug his finger into the wound, and Steph convulsed, body breaking into a fresh sheen of sweat. His finger came out bloody, and it wasn’t long before he plunged it into her thigh again. It actually grazed the bone, she could feel it.

She could also feel she didn’t have long to live.

“You must have realized,” Johnson said, pulling up a chair to sit in front of her, “that I’m going to kill you anyway?”

Steph nodded, resigned.

“Did you also know that I told your parents about you and Gabriel?”

Eyes widening, Steph started shaking her head vigorously. He couldn’t have. He couldn’t have. But the glint in his eyes told her he was not lying.

Tears welled up in her eyes. Steph swallowed, trying to force them back in. What a waste of precious tears.

“I doubt you’ll have much of a future with that guy anymore,” Johnson said dismissively, standing up. “Give her water. I don’t want to kill a starving, numb, raving lunatic of a person. I want her alive. Fresh. I want her to feel the pain.” He walked away.

Steph did the stupidest thing she’d ever done. As he passed her, she lunged out at him with all her remaining strength, making them both fall over. As they landed, her face inches away from his on the floor, she spat at him.

An ugly snarl marred his features, and with a roar, he shoved her off him and gave her a hard slap in the face. Her whole head got thrown to the side by the force of it, and she’d accidentally bit her tongue. Blood filled the inside of her mouth.

“I think I’ll be very happy to kill you, bitch,” Johnson growled, and stalked off without another word. Steph was left lying very pathetically on the floor, still chained to her chair.

Once Johnson had disappeared from view, the bigger man, she thought his name was Dawson, hurried over and propped the chair upright again. The smaller man came over, a small cup of water in his hand. Tipping the contents of it into her mouth, he cast a hurried glance around and once he was done, they both retreated back into the dark shadows. Neither had said a word, but she’d seen the pity in their eyes.