Chapter Seven

"She has to learn her place."

That was the last word he said before ordering his men to carry me away. My chest clenched as regret clawed at me. Why didn't I pull the trigger when I had the chance? I could have ended him; I had the opportunity, but I couldn't.

Why?

As they drew me away, I could hear the gunshot. The innocent man's face, the one who had begged me before, and the tears in his eyes replayed themselves, as did Lucian's, who acted as if killing people was his everyday routine, his sanity taken away long ago.

And suppose he were Luke?

I pledge on my dying breath and my father's life that I will never forgive him for what he did to me. He could manipulate and distort words, but he was never the boy I knew.

"Move it!"

A rough hand pushed me forward from behind, almost knocking me off balance.

"I'm moving… Can't you see I'm hurt?" I spat, gritting my teeth in wrath and pain.

Pain rushed up my right foot as I walked along the lengthy corridor. The passage was dark, echoing only the hollow sound of my footsteps and their boots. It screamed loneliness, much like my life right now.

"Ouch…"

I groaned; the pain intensified. Another powerful push knocked me off my feet before I could recover.

"Fuck, what the hell…"

I turned around to see one of the men with a sinister sneer on his face, relishing the misery. The other's face was a blank mask, as if he had removed all traces of humanity. I gasped while clutching my right foot, as the intense desire to smash that sneer from his face with my bare hands blazed within me. I've never experienced such disrespect in my life, and now, I've personally witnessed the darkest side of these people.

The smirking guard stooped down to my level, his large hand yanking on my hair. As I winced, pain burned through my scalp.

"You think you could pull that act you pulled earlier?"

I lifted my brows in surprise, biting my lips and refusing to answer, nor did I try to figure out what he was talking about.

"Because of you," he leaned in, his breath hot and nasty. "One of us has died now. If you tried to do such silly antics again," he paused, exchanging glances with his seconds before returning to me. "I swear, I'll make sure even our boss does what he normally does to girls like you."

"Huh… What do you mean...?" My chest tightened.

Before I could finish, he stepped on my wounded ankle. A blinding flood of pain rushed through me. My eyesight erupted with stars.

"ARGHH!" I yelled, but his hand clamped over my lips, muffling me with the smell of perspiration and smoke. Tears streamed down my cheeks, and his leg was still on my ankle. Tears obscured my vision as his boot dug deeper into my ankle, pressing down on my weak spot.

He sneered, "Shhhh… Your screams sound beautiful. What a waste of it."

"Please let go," I muttered, struggling to remove his leg with my last ounce of power. He pushed my hands away with his other boot, chuckling as if he enjoyed every moment.

Hatred bubbled within me. I wanted to murder him right there and now. Why did he do this? I had not done anything to him. And his partner just stood there, detached, as if I were nothing but dirt on the floor.

"I swear," I whispered, clenching my teeth, as he finally loosened his grip, "you're going to die; I'll make sure of it… I will fucking kill you."

I gritted my teeth and shielded my face from them. I refused to let them see me cry because I don't believe they deserve it. Nobody deserved my tears.

As if my little prayers had been answered, the second guard stepped forward and placed his hand on his shoulders.

He spoke softly, "I believe you should be wise enough to let her go…" His eyes darted left and right, as if he expected someone to emerge. "That girl is… different."

special.

He scoffed in return and pulled his foot away from my ankle. He lifted me to my feet with force.

"Watch your back, little girl," he hissed, pushing me forward. "Now move."

I lurched forward, pushing away the tenacious tears that clung to my face. Hatred consumed me like fire. These men did not deserve to share the same air as me. If this were life under Lucian, every single one of them deserved to die.

We eventually made it to the door of the identical room, which I despised. My stomach turned angry. "Isn't there a better room for me? Do I look like a fucking sex slave?"

The guard who stomped on my ankle leaned in close enough for me to smell his breath. "I wish..."

Then he opened the door and pushed me in. "Lock the door so well; that girl is vicious."

Their mocking laughter rang down the corridor as the door slammed shut behind me, leaving me in my world of silence.

The sight of the room, its contents, and the filthy reminders of what had happened to other women made me want to vomit.

I sank on the cold floor, my heart shredding apart little by bit. The memories I'd buried made their way back.

Dad's voice, pledging to protect me following the divorce. When Mom refused to look at me, he carried me in his arms. The way he said I'd never need her... He had been my anchor, my haven. And now he has abandoned me for some insignificant amount of money.

Was I that cheap? Did he have any debts?

He never did. If he had, I would have known in one way or another. He didn’t sell to me because he had to. He sold me because he chose to.

But why?

Hours passed while I lay on the floor, agony ripping through my ankle, and my stomach twisting with hunger. I felt my head whirling and my vision blurring. Then a familiar horror overcame me.

My chest began to tighten.

No, not now.

I was asthmatic, but the meds I took kept me attack-free for over two months. And now it was returning.

"Help…" I took in a breath, but it was painful on my lungs.

I don't want to die, especially not in this way. Now that everyone out there is still breathing.

I dragged myself across the floor, towards the door, stealing what little air I had left. My hands shook as I beat on the wood.

"Please… help!"

But the words were so thin and frail, scarcely audible, that no one could hear me.

Dad had made care to accompany me the last time, especially when I didn't have my inhaler.

But now I felt helpless and alone. I clutched at the door handle, my chest burning and my eyes whirling.

"Somebody there?" I slammed against the door with my little might, clutching my chest. I have tears in my eyes.

"Please help me…"

"Somebody..." I wheezed and slammed my fist against the door. "Please…"

Tears streamed down my face as the darkness closed in, dragging me away. My lungs refused to cooperate, making each breath smaller, weaker, and more frantic.

I was dying.

When I believed everything was over, the door suddenly opened.