Because they aren’t her.
Holding her in my arms, feeling her cling to me, reminded me of the one person in my life that I failed to save, failed to protect. I grit my teeth, grabbing onto the sink that’s barely fastened to the wall. Things were easier before she escaped and ran right into my arms like I was the hero in this twisted fucking story.
But I’m not the hero. I can’t save her. I can’t even save myself. I force air into my lungs and swallow down all the emotions swirling out of control inside of me. This is my job. The only life I’ve ever known, and some tiny, fragile fucking woman isn’t going to ruin it for me.
I lift my eyes to the mirror, and I see the man I’m meant to be.
The hardened criminal, the killer, the fucked-up asshole.
I was born to do this. It’s in my blood.
3
Violet
I blink my eyes open, feeling a little warmer than I have in a long time. My jaw throbs, and I fight back tears at the pain. When I shift against the mattress, I feel an unknown fabric rubbing against my naked skin. I gaze down at my body, which is now covered with a large black shirt. I look around the room expecting… hoping the owner of that shirt would still be here, but I’m met with nothing more than disappointment when I realize the room is completely empty, as always.
I suck in a ragged breath, and the faint scent of cinnamon and whiskey tickles my nostrils, which I quickly realize comes from the shirt covering me. I get up and shimmy the shirt off of me while trying to keep my boobs covered.
Now that I know for a fact this mirror isn’t really a mirror and that someone might be watching me right now, I am not going to give anyone a show. I turn my back to the door and slip the oversized shirt over my head. The soft fabric falls over my body, swallowing me whole. The shirt is so long on me it fits me more like a dress than a t-shirt, coming to rest just below my knees.
I sit there for a long time, wrapped in Ivan’s shirt. It still smells like him, and I can’t help but revel in his unique scent. It calms me, makes me feel safe, and reminds me of how he made me feel when he was holding me in his huge arms. He said that he couldn't help me, but he doesn’t realize how much he already has.
Not only did he save me from being raped by those two men, but he also held me for I don’t even know how long. After being without any human contact for so many days, his gentle touch meant everything to me… not to mention the warmth he provided me with. Because of him, I felt a little more human again. For the first time since I got here, I smile. He even left me his shirt; he cared enough to leave his shirt, knowing how cold I was. If that’s not kindness, then I don’t know what is.
I pull my legs up to my chest and rest my head on my knees, trying to relax, when I hear someone unlocking the door. I’m instantly on high alert, staring at the door, waiting to see who is going to come walking through it. Ivan told those guys not to come back. Surely, they would listen to him? They called him boss, so I’m assuming he’s the one in control of this entire thing.
When I see the food door flap open and a tray being shoved through it, I’m equally relieved and disappointed. It’s not Ivan, but it’s no one coming in here to try and hurt me either.
I almost don’t get up, leaving the food sitting there, when I take another look at the contents on the tray. It holds the normal paper plate and water bottle, but there is something else on it.
I jump up and run to the door, my bare feet slapping against the cold concrete.
Toilet paper. Fucking toilet paper. I never thought I could be so happy about such a ridiculous little thing as toilet paper… but I am. I’m so happy about it that I decide to actually eat a few bites of the sandwich. The inside of my mouth hurts like hell and my jaw is swollen, but I manage to chew anyway. I twist the cap off the clear bottle of water and wash down the dry PB&J pieces in my mouth. They land in my belly with a heavy thud.
I eye the door, knowing there is no way one of the men put that toilet paper on the tray. They wouldn’t care enough about such a small thing. After all, I’m nothing but a piece of meat to be sold. I know for certain Ivan had to have done it. He was kind enough to leave his shirt for me, so there is no way it was anyone but him. Which leaves me wondering how he became the boss of this godforsaken place? He seems different than the other men here... or at least the ones I’ve met. He’s kinder, gentler, and that gives me hope where I’ve had none.
Days bleed together, and I completely lose track of time. I don’t know how many days I have been here; all I know is that with each passing day, I hope for Ivan to return. He is the only person who has treated me like a human being since I arrived here, and I crave human interaction.
I’m so fucking lonely. I just want to see another person... they don’t even have to talk to me. I just don’t want to be alone anymore. My stomach is so empty it aches, throbs, but I can’t bring myself to eat anything.
What’s the point anyway? It’s not going to change the outcome of what happens to me. Maybe if I don’t eat anything, I’ll lose some weight... and maybe then I won’t be appealing to anyone?
Dinner or lunch, whatever it is, was served a few hours ago, telling me it’s either late afternoon or night time. My face still hurts, but not as badly as it did a few days ago. I look at my reflection in the mirror. An ugly array of purple and green bruises mar my chin, jaw, and right cheek. The swelling has gone down immensely, but I still don’t look like myself. My hair is a greasy mess on my head, and my body has become sickly thin.
With nothing else but my own mind, I spend every day asking myself the same questions over and over again. Why did I go to that stupid club? Is Ella looking for me? When am I going to get out of here and what's going to happen to me when I do?
I have no answers to my questions, and that terrifies me. I don’t know why any of this happened to me and, most of all, I don’t know what my future holds. Parts of me wonder if I'm better of dying?
I crawl into a tiny ball and let the tears stinging my eyes fall. I cry for the unknown, for my future, and for the past I'm certain I'll never get to go back to.
4
Ivan
I’m just looking over the weapons export reports on my desk when someone knocks on the door of my office.
“What?” I growl.
Gabe opens the door, popping his head in as if he's making sure I don’t shoot him on sight. I have been in an extra foul mood for the last week, and my men have all noticed and most likely felt it, since I've been handing out ass kickings more often.
“What do you want?” I don’t even look up at him. I just keep sifting through the papers, wishing he would just turn around and leave already.
“Sorry to interrupt, boss, but I thought I should tell you that one of the girls hasn’t been eating.”
My head snaps up at his words and suddenly, he has my full attention. “Which girl?” I ask, irritated. I really hope it’s not the same one as before. I’ve been trying to get her out of my fucking head all week, but the image of her beautiful face, her big blue eyes looking up at me and how she felt cradled in my arms, is permanently embedded into my brain. Everytime I close my eyes, I see her in that damn room, cold and alone.