I don’t choose to stay.
That implies there was a choice to begin with. But there was no world in which I was going to run out of the bomb shelter to save myself and leave him behind.
I’m crying as I hold on to Thiago’s neck like my life depends on it. In many ways, it does.
He didn’t hesitate to offer himself up to save me. He sacrificed himself blindly for me when he has a father who loves him, a sister who might still be alive, and an adoptive sister who worships him.
He’s ready to give it all up just so I can walk out of here freely, and I’m supposed to leave him behind?
If I walk out, then he’s walking out with me.
And if he dies here, then so will I.
But not without me finally admitting the secret I’ve been holding onto for far too long. Facing my death makes me realize I should never have hesitated to say it in the first place.
I turn my face and bring my lips up to Thiago’s ear.
“I love you,” I breathe the confession. “I’m sorry I never told you earlier. I should have.”
“No!” he shouts when the words are barely past my lips. He throws his body forward and tries to trap me against the floor. Hovering above me, his hands still handcuffed behind his back, his eyes roam my face wildly. “Don’t say it like that amor, don’t say it like you’re telling me goodbye. I won’t accept it.”
I blink and a tear squeezes out of the corner of my eye and down my cheek. My lips part but hands reach out and grab me, then brutally drag me away from him before any words can leave my mouth.
Thiago lunges forward, a roar of pure demonic rage tearing from his throat. Tied up as he is, he can’t get far. He slams into the ground, immediately rolling onto his side, his frantic eyes tracking me upside down as I’m dragged by Julio back towards Marco.
“Get the fuck off her! I’ll kill you, you hear me? I’ll fucking kill you,” he roars before the two other men come down on him.
I’m yanked up to my feet to stand in front of Marco.
“You had your chance to run, you didn’t take it,” he croons, a hand reaching out to stroke my cheek.
I spit at him.
Satisfaction ripples through me when it lands on his face, momentarily stunning him.
I smirk defiantly at him. “If you’re killing him, kill me too.”
Julio slaps me. My face flies to the side, a loud ringing explodes in my left ear. Behind me, I hear Thiago thrash on the ground.
Marco only smiles, a grin that twists my stomach into knots, and wipes my spit away with his thumb.
He grips my jaw, crushing it in his fist.
“Kill you? Oh, baby, no.” He chuckles, the sound sending a draft of cold down my spine. “No, that’s changed now.” He grabs my jaw, his grip bruising and painful. “Why kill you when I can fetch a good price for you? Just like Rocco did with Adriana.”
A furious animalistic scream erupts from behind me. It’s followed by the sound of scuffling. If I could turn around, I would, but Marco holds me steadfast. I don’t need to witness it to know that Thiago is grappling with the men holding him hostage.
“Put her in my room,” Marco orders Julio.
Fear unlike any I’ve ever known freezes me at his cold order. I recognize the look in his eye; it’s the same one Franklin had before he tried to assault me. Marco releases my face with a shove and forces me to look over at Thiago.
He’s still on his back, chest rising and falling violently with his enraged breaths, being held down by the two guards. His eyes are pinned hauntingly on mine, his expression caught somewhere between rage and pure terror. A feral growl shreds his throat.
I’m staring back at him, the connection between us pulsing and alive. I’m trying not to let the fear drown me. Unspeakable horrors await me if I leave this room, but I don’t currently see a way out.
Marco runs the back of his fingers down my cheek. Goosebumps raise chillingly down my spine and my skin turns clammy. My reaction to him couldn’t be further from my reaction to Thiago.
“I always wondered what about her made you lose your fucking mind,” he declares, staring gleefully down at my husband. “I’m about to find out for myself now.”
“NO!” the scream rips from Thiago’s throat, the pain audible in his voice. Hearing his cry is intolerable, it’s ugly and distorted, and it tears me apart.
Marco’s hand moves to caress my lips and I nearly gag.
“I love you,” I murmur, as fresh tears roll down my face.
And then I open my mouth and bite Marco’s thumb as hard as I can.
Fucking bastard.
That’ll teach him to touch me without my consent.
“Fuck you,” I hiss at him, the vitriol flying from my lips.
He howls woundedly, clutching his hand against his chest. Then his eyes find mine again, flashing in rage. His fist flies and he punches me in the face for the second time today.
I fall to the floor and unconsciousness takes me.
✽✽✽
I come to almost immediately. My hair covers my face, obscuring my vision. I can see the ground moving beneath me, a pair of feet taking me somewhere.
I’m being carried in someone’s arms.
“Put her in my room.”
Fresh panic swells inside me. My frantic heart pounds loudly in my ears. My vision narrows. I take discreet deep breaths to calm myself down and stay the hysteria. If I let it take me, I won’t get out of this alive. I need a clear mind.
I work to relax my body, to keep my eyes closed.
My captor can’t know that I’m conscious. The element of surprise is what’s going to save me here.
That’s what Thiago taught me.
I let myself be carried seemingly lifelessly to what looks like a makeshift bedroom. I can make out a rug and a dirty mattress on metallic legs. Nausea rises into my throat, but I swallow it back down.
I’m thrown onto the mattress and I let my body bounce without trying to catch my fall, continuing to feign my unconsciousness. Peeking through my lashes, I recognize Julio as he turns towards the door. I quickly shutter my eyes when he looks back at me. My heart pounds in fear as he stares lengthily at me.
Leave. Leave. Leave.
I chant it over and over in my head, praying that he buys my passed out act, praying that he doesn’t come back towards me.
Finally, after what feels like an eternity, he leaves.
My survival instincts kick in and a voice in my head yells at me to run. To get out of there while I’m alone and unbound. That this is my chance.
But the reality is that I don’t know where Marco is. He said he was coming here to—
I can’t bear to think the words. But he’s coming. He could be on the other side of that door as we speak, or just down the hall. If I move too soon, I could sentence myself to a fate worse than simply death.
So I make the impossible decision to fight against my body’s instincts and I stay.
I don’t move.
I remain in the uncomfortable position in which Julio carelessly dropped me on the bed, my torso half twisted onto the mattress, my arm caught under my body, in case there are any cameras on me.
I stay and I wait for the man who’s going to try to rape me.
Time feels like it drags on forever. The seconds tick ominously on by, accompanied by the hollow knock of my pulse. I don’t waste a single moment though. I use the time to retreat back into my mind, to remember the self defense lessons I’ve had with Thiago.
I’m going to need them.
The door opens once more, bringing with it a new wave of fear. Dread opens a gaping pit in my belly as alarm bells go off inside me, warning me that I’m in danger. I don’t dare open my eyes for fear that he’ll see me. But I don’t need to. I can smell him.
Marco.
He’s in the room with me.
The door closes behind him with a decisive click.
I’m trapped with a monster.
“Still unconscious,” he notes silkily. He sounds thrilled by the discovery. “I prefer it when they fight, but we’ve got time for that.” I hear him advance on me. “For now, it’ll make the first time easier.”
His hand comes down on my thigh and it takes every ounce of my self-control not to jerk at his touch.
Wait. I need to wait.
To find the perfect moment to strike.
Hardest parts of my body against the softest parts of his.
He grabs the hem of my skirt. A loud ripping noise tears through the silence.
His hand moves higher up my thigh until he touches the hem of my panties.
Disgust roils violently in my stomach. Bile rises into my throat, threatening to make an appearance.
Marco grabs my shoulders and turns me over so that I’m flat on my back. His putrid breath falls on my face.
And then he gets closer, arrogant in his confidence and incapable of resisting relishing in his victory.
“I’m going to enjoy desecrating the woman Thiago da Silva loves most in the world.”
He relishes too early.
My eyes blink open only long enough to see the stunned look in his gaze, and then I slam my forehead into his nose.
The loud crunch that follows is the most satisfying noise I’ve ever heard.
Marco howls in agony. His hands fly to his face where blood spurts freely from his nose.
Unlike him, I don’t rest on my laurels.
I take advantage of his surprise and the fact that he’s released me and sit up to get more leverage. And then I pull my leg back as much as I can and swing it back up, hammering my shin right into his balls as hard as I can.
I hope he feels them go hurtling back up into his stomach, because that’s what I was going for.
The miscalculation I make is that the shock makes him fold, then drop onto the bed.
Right on top of me, trapping me beneath him.
His dead weight as he fights for breath almost suffocates me. I scream, the bloodcurdling sound ripping from my throat as I fight for my life. His hands come around my neck and he starts to squeeze.
Think, Tess. Think.
My vision blurs, spots dotting my eyes.
Softest parts.
I try to reach for his eyes, but he tilts his head up and keeps them out of reach. His vicious smile as he chokes the life out of me sends fresh fury through my veins.
This asshole doesn’t get to win.
I reach for his hair and grip it in both fists. Then I use it to yank him towards me. He shrieks in pain, probably not used to anyone pulling his hair, and his hands momentarily relax around my throat.
Closing the distance between us, I lift my head and bite his already broken nose with the savagery only someone who’s doing anything to live possesses.
I spit a piece of his flesh at him. I bit off part of his nose.
“Rapist piece of shit,” I sneer, taking advantage of his now half-seated position to push him off me.
Something knocks into my hip as he falls onto the bed next to me, clutching his destroyed face.
A gun.
I reach for it with shaky hands, in disbelief that he would have a gun on him and within reach when he tried to assault me.
He underestimated me.
My fingers close around it and I pull it out of the band of his trousers. I’m on my feet and I’ve taken a step towards the door, towards freedom, when I hear a furious roar from behind me. I turn in time to find him lunging at me.
I could shoot him, but I’ve never fired a gun before.
That split second of hesitation costs me dearly.
Marco tackles me to the ground.
The breath expels violently from my lungs when my back hits the floor and his weight comes down on top of me once more.
“Stupid bitch,” he yells, slapping me.
Blood from his nose drips onto my face.
I’m close.
I’m so close to making it out.
That belief that I can save myself from this, that I can hopefully go save Thiago after I’m free, powers a new wave of adrenaline into my veins.
The gun is in my hand, at my side. My finger curls around the trigger and squeezes. The gunshot echoes loudly, startling Marco. The bullet fires into the wall, nowhere near him.
But now he’s distracted.
I lift the gun and slam it down into his temple.
He groans loudly, more blood exploding from this new wound.
I crawl out from under him and back away on my hands, my palms scraping against and getting cut up by the rough, dirty floor.
Marco staggers up to one knee, then the other, refusing to give up. My hand shakes so hard when I lift my arm that I almost drop the gun, but I hold firm.
I won’t look away this time.
Enough is enough.
I stare into his hateful eyes as he stumbles towards me. All I see is the betrayal, the greed, the remorselessness of the coward who helped traffic Adriana, the murderer, the man who tried to assault and kill me.
I see who the real devil is and I fire again.
The bullet hits him in the gut and he falls backwards, clutching his stomach. His eyes widen in shock. He didn’t think I would do it.
A pained groan falls loudly from his lips.
The gun falls from my hand.
I don’t stick around to see more.
I stand and I throw one last look at the man responsible for so much heartache in my and the people I love’s lives.
Only then do I run for my life.
