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Shadows In Durango

Chapter 110
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Chapter 110

*:kkxG0fig's POV*Fkkx

| stare over at the clothes Ashton had left foron 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 makefeel 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 | should wear all the

way down to my underwear... completely vile!

| force myself to look away, taking a deep breath as | peel off the filthy clothes | had been wearing, what | could

only guess how many hours for.

Every movement feels like an effort, my body aching with exhaustion and fear. My hands shake as | reach for the

shower handle, twisting it until the water begins to rush out in a harsh, steady stream.

| was thankful for the water to be somewhat warm at least, since | had expected the bare minimum of ice cold

pelts to beat down against my raw skin.

| better just get this shower over with as quickly as | can before he comes back... I'm not giving him the

satisfaction of seeingnaked!

There wasn't a lock on the bathroom door either, another tactical move on his part to stopfrom 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 trapdown here for as long as his sick mind wanted to.

| seethe through my teeth as the water stings against my skin as | step under it, but | don't care. | need to wash

it all away - Ashton's touch, the fear, the dirt of this place clinging tolike it's soaking into my very bones.

But as soon as the water cascades over my scalp, | feel a sharp throb of pain, the ache radiating through my

head like a dull, pounding drum as | yelp at the pain.

| 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 | lost? How bad are my wounds?

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| 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

grwithout triggering more pain. | wince with every stroke, feeling the raw patches where my head must have

been hit tand tagain.

The water aroundis running clearer now, but I still feel dirty, no matter how many times | scrub. | could stand

here all day, and | don't think I'd ever feel clean again...

Knowing that | didn't have long, when the water finally runs clear, | shut it off and step out of the shower, my

body shivering from the exhaustion and shock.

The cold air hits me, and | shiver again, but | can't bring myself to care. | grab the stained towel hanging on the

back of the door and wrap it around me, feeling its roughness against my raw skin.

| catch my reflection in the tiny wall mounted mirror, the glass fogged from the steam, and for a second, | 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 caughtearlier with the slap.

| turn away quickly, refusing to let myself break down again. I've already wasted too much of my tcrying.

There's a pink toothbrush laid out on the sink, and | grab it with shaky hands, spreading a glob of toothpaste on

the bristles before shoving it into my mouth.

The minty taste is sharp and overwhelming, a strange contrast to the staleness that's been lingering in the air

down here.

I scrub harder than | need to, almost desperate to erase the past few hours from my memory. My gums sting, but

| keep going, brushing until the metallic taste of blood fills my mouth.

| spit out into the sink, watching the pink-tinged foam swirl down the drain like the blood from my scalp earlier.

The sight makes my stomach churn, but | don't stop. | brush again, harder, until the bristles are rough against

my swollen gums, until the pain numbs the rest of me.

Only when the taste of blood overwhelms the mint do | stop, letting the toothbrush clatter down into the sink

without care.

| wipe my mouth and turn back towards the clothes that still waited foron the counter. The underwear sits

there in mockery, nasty and cheap, and | have to force myself to pick it up.

It's scratchy against my skin, makingfeel more exposed than if I'd stayed naked. Every inch ofrecoils as |

slip it on, the fabric grating against my bruised body like sandpaper.

The nightdress Ashton left foris black and silky, the kind of thing I'd never wear on my own. It clings to me

as | pull it over my head, the cold fabric sliding down my body, a stark contrast to the cheap lace beneath it.

It's meant to look elegant, | suppose, but all it does is makefeel like I've been dressed for someone else's

pleasure - which | most definitely was.

| look at myself in the mirror again, my skin pale beneath the dark silk, and | instantly feel sick. This isn't me.

This isn't who | am. I'm not sbroken doll to be dressed up and played with.

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But right now, | have no choice but to just play along.

I sink down on to the floor, pulling my knees to my chest, and close my eyes, trying to block out the reality of

what was happening to me.

He's going to cback down...

He's going to try and take more fromthis time...

So what will | do?!

The fear is still there, gnawing at the edges of my mind, whispering that I'm trapped, that there's nothing | can

do. That Ashton will cback down here, pushonto that bed, and take whatever he wants from me. The

thought alone makes my stomach knot and my heart race faster in terror.

But no. | won't just let that happen. | won't give him the satisfaction.

| have to fight back.

The thought is like a flicker of light in the overwhelming darkness. It starts small, but the more | focus on it, the

stronger it grows.

Fight.

Not just for me, but for everything that was taken fromsince my mother died. From him, from my father,

from my brothers. They've ruinedthus far, and | won't let him take another piece of my soul!

| push myself up off the floor, my legs weak, my body sore, but | force myself to stand. The nightdress clings to

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| just need to survive.

My eyes scan the room again, searching for anything that | could use to defend myself. If he comes back down

here and tries something, | need to be ready.

My heart hammers in my chest as | walk over to the dresser against the wall, yanking open the drawers one by

one to make a start.

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Most of them are empty, but | hear something rattle in the last one before | find a metal hairpin towards the

back, sharp enough to draw blood if pressed in hard enough. It's not much, but it's something...

| clutch it in my hand, feeling the cold metal against my skin.

| move to the bed next, crouching down to check underneath. It's mostly dusty, but | spot a metal bar on one of

the broken bed slats hanging down ever so slightly.

With seffort, | manage to pry it loose. It's about a foot long, not exactly a weapon, but solid enough to give

A grim determination settles overas | grip the bar in one hand, the hairpin in the other. | have no illusions

about how dangerous Ashton is, or how much stronger he is than me, but | can't just sit here and wait for him to

cdown and strip away what little | have left.

| have to be ready.

My mind races, playing out scenarios, each more terrifying than the last. If he comes at me, I'll aim for his eyes,

his throat - somewhere vulnerable. If he tries to overpower me, I'll scratch, kick, bite - anything to make sure he

knows | won't go down without a fight.

The fear is still there, but it feels different now - sharper, more focused. It's not paralyzinglike it was before.

Now, it's fueling me.

I don't know if I'll ever survive this, but if I'm going down, I'm going down fighting him.

He doesn't deserve to win.

I hide the weapons under the pillow, easy forto get to but keeping them covered, before | pace the

basement, my body tense, waiting for the sound of his footsteps, for the jingle of his keys. Every second feels

like an eternity, the silence only amplifying the pounding of my heart.

But | won't be the sgirl who crumbled under his questions, under his threats. Not anymore.

He's coming back, and when he does, I'll have to fight.