Shadows In Durango

Chapter 110

*****Sofia's POV*****

I stare over at the clothes Ashton had left for me on the bathroom counter, bile rising up in my throat as I try to swallow down the wave of disgust.

The red underwear looks cheap, flimsy and see through nothing like anything I'd ever choose for myself. It feels like another layer of control, another way for him to make me feel trapped down here under his rules. He'd actually gone to a store and picked these out for me, like he had every right to decide what I should wear all the way down to my underwear... completely vile!

I force myself to look away, taking a deep breath as I peel off the filthy clothes I had been wearing, what I could only guess how many hours for.

Every movement feels like an effort, my body aching with exhaustion and fear. My hands shake as I reach for the shower handle, twisting it until the water begins to rush out in a harsh, steady stream.

I was thankful for the water to be somewhat warm at least, since I had expected the bare minimum of ice cold pelts to beat down against my raw skin.

I better just get this shower over with as quickly as I can before he comes back... I'm not giving him the satisfaction of seeing me naked!

There wasn't a lock on the bathroom door either, another tactical move on his part to stop me from hiding away from him.

He was sick.

He was most definitely deemed a psychopath in my eyes at this rate, having thought of each and every small detail to help trap me down here for as long as his sick mind wanted to.

I seethe through my teeth as the water stings against my skin as I step under it, but I don't care. I need to wash it all away - Ashton's touch, the fear, the dirt of this place clinging to me like it's soaking into my very bones.

But as soon as the water cascades over my scalp, I feel a sharp throb of pain, the ache radiating through my head like a dull, pounding drum as I yelp at the pain.

I reach up to my hair and freeze, my fingers coming away sticky and dark. My heart lurches in my chest as I tilt my head downward, watching in horror as the water begins to swirl red at my feet, blood mixing with the water as it spirals down the drain.

I gasp, my legs suddenly weak beneath me. How much blood have I lost? How bad are my wounds?

I should probably see a doctor for this!

It's the first real sign of what Ashton has done to me, the physical proof of the violence he had inflicted so far and the reality of it knocks the air from my lungs.

Forcing myself to push through the nausea, I gingerly scrub at my scalp, trying to cleanse the dried blood and grime without triggering more pain. I wince with every stroke, feeling the raw patches where my head must have been hit time and time again.

I still feel dirty, no matter how many times I scrub. I could stand here

water finally runs clear, I shut it off and step out of the shower, my body shivering from the

shiver again, but I can't bring myself to care. I grab the stained towel hanging

the glass fogged from the steam, and for a second, I don't recognise the person staring back at me. My face is pale, my eyes hollow, and there's a dark bruise forming along my cheek where Ashton must have caught me earlier with the

break down again. I've already

shaky hands, spreading a glob of toothpaste on the bristles before shoving it into my

is sharp and overwhelming, a strange contrast to the

hours from my memory. My gums sting, but I keep going, brushing until

swirl down the drain like the blood from my scalp earlier. The sight makes my stomach churn, but I don't stop. I brush again, harder, until the bristles are rough against my swollen gums, until the pain numbs

blood overwhelms the mint do I

wipe my mouth and turn back towards the clothes that still waited for me on the counter. The underwear sits there in mockery, nasty and cheap, and

than if I'd stayed naked. Every inch of me recoils as I slip it on, the fabric grating against

the kind of thing I'd never wear on my own. It clings to me as I pull it over my head, the cold fabric

I suppose, but all it does is make me feel like I've been dressed for someone else's pleasure

myself in the mirror again, my skin pale beneath the dark silk, and I instantly feel sick. This isn't me. This isn't who I am. I'm not some broken

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no choice but to just

pulling my knees to my chest, and close

going to come

to try and take more from me

what will

my mind, whispering that I'm trapped, that there's nothing I can do. That Ashton will come back down here, push me onto that bed, and take whatever he wants from me. The thought alone makes my stomach knot

that happen.

have to fight

flicker of light in the overwhelming darkness. It starts small, but the more I focus on

Fight.

for everything that was taken from me since my mother died. From him, from my father, from my

force myself to stand. The nightdress clings to me uncomfortably, but I ignore it. I can't focus on how I

just need to

I could use to defend myself. If he comes back down here