Shadows In Durango

Chapter 112

Chapter 112

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

Every second drags on like a countdown to something inevitable...

I sit back down on the edge of the bed, pulling the cold metal bar out from under the pillow - my fingers wrapping around it and gripping it tightly.

It's strange how something so small can make me feel a sliver of control in this hell hole.

My heart thuds painfully in my chest, loud enough that I'm sure Ashton will hear it the moment he steps through that basement door.

The room is too quiet.

The silence makes every sound sharper - the dripping of the water from the faucet in the bathroom, the soft shuffle of the bed sheet, the rustle of the cheap fabric clinging on to my skin.

My hands are slick with sweat, and I keep wiping them on the scratchy material as if trying to erase the fear from my palms. But I can't erase the fear, can I? Not when it's clawing at me, wrapping its icy fingers around my throat every time I think of what could happen next.

He's going to come back soon.

I know it.

The way he looked at me before he left... that sick, twisted smirk like he's already won me over with this.

But he hasn't.

I look over at the pillow where I've hidden the hairpin, knowing that it's still under there, waiting for me to put it to good use.

It's not much, but it's sharp enough to hurt him if I can get close enough to the right spots and the bar in my hand? It feels heavier with each passing second, like a lifeline.

I don't know what I'll do when he walks in-no, actually, I do know...

I'll fight with everything I have.

Because I have to.

Because if I don't, he'll take everything from me.

My body. My mind. My sanity. He's already stolen so much from me in the past, and I can't let him take any more.

I can't let him win, not when I've been on the run for so long, doing so much better for myself.

Maybe I should hide somewhere? Catch him off guard in my attack?

I glance around at my bare surroundings, before standing to move towards the dresser, managing to squeeze myself in behind it.

My body feels electric with tension, every muscle coiled tight as I wait and wait for him to arrive.

basement door has remained closed, but I know it won't stay that way for long. My breath comes out

stay focused. I need to be ready for this or else it could all blow up

long stretching minutes, I finally

jingle of keys

enough to send a fresh wave of panic coursing through my veins. I press myself back against the dresser, out of sight but close enough to pounce when he

at least still

the staircase are

Slow.

Deliberate.

in to the empty space, echoing his way down the staircase like a death

I feel my lip quiver, trying to steady my

see how scared I am.

won't break

to me, seeming to head for the bedroom next after not finding

my drying lips, shuffling slightly to prepare myself to face

door is pushed open fully, causing me to

He's here...

feel the pulse pounding in

This is it...

been waiting

But I'm ready.

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I have to be.

like poison in my mouth, but I force myself to say it, to catch him

small, weaker than I want it to, but it's enough to make him stop, to make him look around the room, searching for

His voice is casual, like we're having some normal conversation, like he hasn't been keeping me down here like an animal. "I brought you some snacks. You must be starving

Starving...

in the air

here, that I'm just going to sit here and let him dictate every moment of my

Not this time.

thud of something - probably the food? -

me yet but he knows I'm

keep it that way, just for a little longer. Just until

steps closer to the

now, the sickening scent of cologne and sweat mixed together. My stomach twists, but I don't move. Not

fucking difficult." His voice is dripping with condescension. "You know I just want to take care of you, I

but himself. My fingers flex around the metal bar

the floor, and I know he's near

That's when I strike.

the dresser, swinging the

shock on his face is satisfying for half a second before the metal connects with his

don't stop. I can't stop. I swing again, aiming for his head this time, but he's faster than I expect, grabbing my wrist with a strength that makes me gasp. "Sofia!" he snarls, his grip tightening painfully. "What

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