Chapter 39

"Cracks in the Armor"

Valeria's POV

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I woke up to the metallic tang of blood on my tongue, the taste as familiar now as stale bread. My body was a symphony of aches, the kind that started in my bones and hummed through every inch of me. I shifted, wincing at the pull of the poorly bandaged wound on my side. The bastards had been rougher than usual last night.

But I was still here. Still breathing.

I counted that as a win.

Days had blurred into weeks. At least, I thought it had been weeks. It was hard to tell in this hellhole where time didn't mean much. The flickering bulb overhead stayed on whether it was morning or night, mocking me with its dim consistency. My body clock had given up trying to track the hours.

They'd stopped trying to get me to scream after the first week. I wouldn't give them the satisfaction. But that didn't mean they'd stopped. Oh no. Raymond's goons were nothing if not persistent. My wrists bore the proof of too many zip ties and handcuffs, raw and red from pulling against restraints. The bruises mottling my skin were fading into yellow-green, only to be replaced by fresh ones every time they decided I needed a "lesson."

I was surviving. Barely. But surviving wasn't the same as winning.

The worst part wasn't the pain, though. It wasn't the cold floor, the tasteless slop they fed me, or even Raymond's smug face as he came by every other day to gloat about how I'd underestimated him.

No, the worst part was the silence. The long stretches where it was just me, the concrete walls, and my thoughts. That's when the cracks started to form.

I found myself wondering about Ren. Was he looking for me? Of course, he was. I'd seen the way he looked at me, like I was the sun and he was some lost planet orbiting too close. Ren wouldn't stop until he found me.

If I survived long enough for him to.

Escape was still on my mind, though. Always. I wasn't about to sit here and wait for a knight in shining armor to sweep in. I wasn't the damsel type, never had been. My first attempt had earned me a dislocated shoulder and a week of heightened security, but I wasn't done.

Not yet.

I'd stolen a small shard of metal from the edge of my bed frame—a weapon if I could figure out how to use it. The trick was timing. I'd studied their routines, listening for the subtle differences in footsteps outside my door. I knew when they swapped shifts, when they got lazy, when they might slip up.

The problem was my body.

It wasn't cooperating.

I could feel it breaking down. The malnutrition was gnawing at my strength, making my movements sluggish, my thoughts foggy. My sharp reflexes—the ones that had kept me alive this long—were dulled. And that terrified me more than anything Raymond or his goons could do.

He came to see me again today. Raymond. His cologne hit me first, a suffocating mix of expensive and nauseating, filling the room before he even stepped inside.

"Valeria," he purred, dragging out the name like he owned it. Like he owned me. "Still so defiant, I see."

I glared at him from my spot on the floor, refusing to waste energy on words. He didn't deserve them.

He crouched down, close enough that I could smell the whiskey on his breath. "You know, I almost admire you. Almost. But defiance only gets you so far, darling. You've been running for so long, haven't you? Always fighting, always surviving. Don't you ever get tired?"

I didn't answer. Not because I wasn't tired—I was—but because he wasn't going to get the satisfaction of hearing it.

Raymond smiled, a slow, serpentine curl of his lips. "You should rest. Save your energy. You're going to need it."

With that cryptic bullshit, he stood and left, leaving me with more questions than answers. I hated that about him. Raymond always knew how to get under my skin, how to plant doubt like a seed and let it fester.

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That night, I tried again.

It was a long shot, but I didn't have many options left. I waited until the guard outside my door—one of the newer ones—started his usual round of grumbling. He was young, inexperienced, and too cocky for his own good.

When he opened the door to toss in my nightly ration of whatever passed for food, I struck.

The shard of metal I'd hidden in my waistband gleamed as I lunged, aiming for his throat. He dodged—barely—and I managed to nick his arm before he slammed me against the wall. My head smacked against the concrete, stars bursting behind my eyes, but I didn't stop.

I twisted, clawing at his face, kicking at his legs, doing everything I could to gain the upper hand. For a moment, I thought I might have him.

Then his partner showed up.

I didn't even see the blow coming. One moment, I was fighting like hell, and the next, pain exploded at the base of my skull.

Darkness swallowed me whole.

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When I woke up, the first thing I noticed was the pain. A dull, throbbing ache at the back of my head, a sharp sting in my side where one of them had landed a kick. My hands were tied tighter this time, cutting off circulation to my fingers.

"You're persistent," Raymond's voice cut through the haze. I blinked up at him, my vision swimming. "I'll give you that."

He crouched down, his face inches from mine. "But persistence without intelligence? That's just stupidity."

"Then why do you keep talking to me?" I croaked, my voice hoarse from disuse.

For a split second, his mask slipped. Just a fraction. But it was enough to remind me that underneath all the bravado, Raymond was just a man. And men could be broken.

I just had to figure out how.

˗ˏˋ Author's note ˎˊ˗

Heyy (✿◡‿◡)

Please Vote and comment to make another insignificant human happy (^◕.◕^)

Question of chapter:

What is your favorite movie?

Mine's The Great Gatsby

Speak highly of yourself <3

Byeeee

Izel

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