Page 36 of Toxic

And though it scared me right to my core . . . Ijustknew.

I also knew the baby was Gracin’s. Vic and I hadn’t had sex since before Gracin arrived, so there wasn’t a chance in hell that I was carrying his child.I was most grateful for that. If I were forced to chose between Vic and a convicted criminal, I would pick the criminaleverytime.

I spared some of my cash to take a blood test at the health care center, and they confirmed my suspicions. I was without a doubt pregnant. They set me up with an appointment with an OB and a bottle ofprenatal vitamins and then sent me on mymerryway.

At first, I didn’t know what to do. What to think. Melinda started asking if I was allergic to the sun because I was acting so weird. It took me a while to realize it didn’t have to be a bad thing. Maybe, this was what was meant to happen. A baby, this baby, was the first good, positive thing to happen to me in a very long time, and I vowed I wouldn’t let what happened to me, happen to thischild.

I’ll endure whatever they do to me to see that we both make it out of this hellholealive.

When the pain is gone, and I can move my limbs freely, Danny strings me right back up. Only this time, he and Andrew pull the rope just a little bit tighter. My arms go numb much more quickly the second time around, and I’m only semi-conscious from lack of food and water. Not to mention, lack of sleep. Each sway of my body shoots me back to consciousness, and now there’s nausea and hunger pains on top ofeverythingelse.

This goes on for an endless amount of time. I can only tell it passes because of the light shining through the windows. I lose count of how many times they unhook me, allow the feeling back, and then string me right back up. Danny and the other guy are relieved from watch duty when another pair of men I don’t know shows up. Hours and hours later, Danny and his friend come back, looking refreshed andwellfed.

I can barely keep my eyes open but manage to bare my teeth at them, which only causes them tolaugh.

If I weren’t strung up like an animal for slaughter, I would have put bullets in every single one of them. Gracin included for getting me intothisshit.

The next night, or at least I think it is, they bring out a jug of water. My mouth can’t work up the saliva at the sight, but something primal inside me aches at the sightofit.

As if he knows what I’m thinking, Danny plops the water on the table in front of me and pours himself a glass. The sound only reminds me of the intense pressure building in my bladder. I look away and up at my discolored hands, hoping it’ll take my mind off my body, but itdoesn’t.

I fight the need to pee, knowing it’s what they want, the degradation and humiliation, but in the end, nature wins out. The relief is overwhelming, but at the same time relieving myself after so long shoots knife-like edges of pain throughout my middle. The pungent smell of urine wafts up around me, and warmth soaks my jeans, leaving them sticky againstmylegs.

That’s when they give me sips of tepid water from the jug. I’m so thirsty that I don’t even care. They only allow little sips, but it’s enough to wet mydrylips.

I sway on the rope trying to reach for the cup as they pull it away, and on the return swing, I spin around and meet a fist that connects right with mystomach.

The cramps are immediate andbrutal.

“No,”I say, but it’s more of a croak.I don’t know if I’m talking to the men around me or the ghost of Vic. As black comes into my vision, reality splits, and I feel like I’m back underneath his fists, struggling to stayalive.

It doesn’t matter. They don’t listen. Another blow, this time to the face, no doubt to shut me up. Danny's fist connects just under my eye, and I snap around on the rope. My arms scream in protest, and my head feels like I have the worst hangover on the planet within seconds. Combined with the breathlessness leftover from the blow to the stomach, I hurt so bad my brain doesn’t know which part of me tofocuson.

Someone barks an order, but I can’t hear it over the ringing in my ears. There’s a flurry of activity, and then someone grabs my hips frombehind.

For one brief, terrifying second, I think they’re going to rape me, and I struggle back to consciousness, fighting them as much as I can while I’m bound and helpless. Then the one in front of me, Danny maybe, slaps me across the other cheek, and I realize the dick holding my hips is only doing so to steady me, so I don’t movesomuch.

My left eye is already partially swollen shut, and my other is watering from the smack, but even with my blurry vision, I can see the horror movie quality table of nightmares they’ve arranged at somepoint.

Knives. Power tools. More rope. Guns. I shudder and throw up the water I managed to choke down. Danny scowls and backhands me again. This time I sway into the body of the man behind me, which only makes me gag again. The sensation of another man’s hands on me is physicallyrevolting.

When I can see again, it’s to find Danny with a small torch in his hand. Behind him, an extension cord trails toward the wall. The torch hisses to life and heat flares across the sensitive skin causing me towince.

“Tell us what you know about Gracin Kingsley,” Danny says as he casually waves the torch in front ofmyface.

I don’t owe Gracin any loyalty, and I sure as hell would tell them whatever they want if it meant I’d get out of here alive, but there are two things wrong with thisscenario.

One, I have no idea where the hellheis.

Two, I know the moment I give these men what they want,I’mdead.

So, I saynothing.

At my lack of a response, the torch flares, and the hands on my hips tighten to the point of pain. I’m shaking all over, but there’s no controlling that at this point. Danny squats at my side, takes my leg in his arm, and locks it tight. If I had the strength to fight him, I still wouldn’t have been able to break his vice-likehold.

The torch isn’t huge, but the flame shooting out from the tip is very, very real and, I have no doubt, effective. But in the moment, I don’t even care, because the rippling and spasming in my womb coupled with the fresh dampness between my legs can only mean one thing. And if it’s what I think it is, I don’t care how much they torture me. I’ll survive it if only to rip their fucking throats out with my barehands.

Danny ignores the urine soaking my jeans as he has one of the other men slice them up so they’re little more than rags hanging off my legs from the knees down. He rips them off and tosses them away before bringing the flame closer to my skin. I hear the sizzle of my flesh and smell cooking meat before I feel the pain of the burn. I throw my head back and scream up to the rafters. Before long, I lose my voice and can only grunt out strangled cries until he removes theflame.