~CHAPTER 6~
A throbbing pain at the back of my head greeted me as I slowly faded back into consciousness. I felt like my head had been split open.
I raised a shaky hand to the back of my head. My fingers encountered a sticky, drying substance. Blood.
I gingerly explored the wound, trying to assess the damage. I could feel a bump rising, making the pain pulse with every beat of my heart.
The tenderness made me hiss, and I withdrew my hand, not wanting to exacerbate the injury.
I slowly opened my eyes and groggily took in the surroundings. I found myself in a dark room, the only light coming from a sliver of sun peeking through a small window.
I was lying on a bed that wasn't particularly comfortable, but it was far better than the makeshift pallets I was used to in the place I had called home all my life.
I struggled to sit up but a wave of dizziness washed over me, forcing me to lie back down.
I closed my eyes and fragments of memories flashed through my mind - Explosion, The don, Mr. Tattoo, the chase... But everything was hazy.
My throat was parched, feeling like the Sahara desert, and my stomach growled with hunger, protesting the emptiness that had been gnawing at me for who-knew-how-long.
But before I could even think about my physical needs, the sound of the door opening was heard and the room was suddenly bathed in bright light.
I had to close my eyes quickly to avoid being blinded. I slowly opened them again and that's when I saw him - Mr. Tattoo.
His face was twisted into a wicked grin as he sauntered into the room, "Finally awake." he said, taking his time approaching me.
I quickly raised myself up from the bed, but my head spun violently, making my vision blur. I caught myself just in time.
"Get away from me!" I exclaimed, moving myself as far back as possible, my back pressed against the cold wall.
I couldn't see anything I could use as a weapon, there was nothing - no furniture, no objects, no potential means of defense.
The room was eerily empty, except for the bed I had been lying on.
Mr. Tattoo finally walked over to me and I tried to throw a punch, but it was no use.
He caught my hand with ease and he spun me around, my back pressed against his chest, and pushed his body against mine, pinning me to the wall.
I struggled to break free against him, but he held me firm. My struggles began to grow more desperate as I heard the ominous sound of his belt being unbuckled.
What was he doing? What was he planning to do? My mind was moving more than lightening as I tried to push him away, "let me go, leave me, let go" I pleaded, but my words fell on deaf ears.
The sound of his zipper going down sent a chill down my spine. "I would enjoy you before killing you," Mr. Tattoo sneered, while moving his hand to my battered gown, and he tore it straight up, leaving me exposed and vulnerable.
My body began to shake uncontrollably as I felt his hand move from mine to my underwear.
Summoning every last ounce of strength, I quickly used my free hand to deliver a sharp elbow to his ribs. Even though my body was weak and hungry, I would rather die than be raped.
With a surge of adrenaline, I spun around and delivered a hard kick to Mr. Tattoo's groin. I hoped it hurt, but I didn't waste any time finding out.
I sprinted out of the room, not even caring that I was only wearing a dirty bra and pant. The torn gown was useless, and I didn't have time to worry about it.
"You useless bitch!" I heard Mr. Tattoo voice shout through the hallway. But I didn't look back, fear and adrenaline fueling my escape.
Why was this happening to me? I thought. My father had been an abusive piece of shit called a man, and I'd had the worst life anyone could imagine.
And now, to top it all off, someone was trying to rape me. Was I that bad in my previous life? Had I done something so terrible that I deserved this kind of suffering?
Tears began to blur my vision, flowing down my cheeks in hot. I wiped them away with the back of my hand, but they kept coming.
Why me? Why was this happening to me? I didn't deserve a life like this. I didn't deserve to be hurt and abused and terrorized.
I didn't deserve any of this. The depressing thoughts swirled around my head But my momentum was abruptly halted as I collided with something solid.
I fell straight onto my butt, the impact jarring my bones.
Dazed, I looked back up to see what I had jammed into and when I saw him.
The masked man.
The Don.
He was standing there, unmoved, like I hadn't just collided with him. A cigarette dangled from his lips while one hand was casually tucked into his pocket and the other hung loose by his side, relaxed, yet radiating an aura of quiet power.
His stormy gray eyes bored into my very soul, as if searching for something hidden deep within me.
One of his eyebrows slowly raised upwards, a subtle, inquiring gesture, hopefully asking me what on earth I was doing, naked.
"Boss" A voice called out and I looked over to see Mr. Tattoo bowing slightly before marching over to me.
"Stupid bitch," Mr. Tattoo spat, he threw a stinging slap to my face, the impact sending shockwaves throughout my skull.
My cheek throbbed and my eyes watered with the pain while he dragged me up.
Mr. Tattoo didn't seem to care. He just kept pulling me, his fingers digging deep into my skin. The Don just stood there watching, his expression unreadable.