It had been two days. With her hands
bound before her, the other end of that short leash always held by
one of the two of them, she had little choice but to walk. Her only
other option was to be dragged, and she had the feeling that at least
the smaller one would enjoy that.
The shorter man, compact but barely a
few inches taller than she, had a loud mouth—at least when it came
to her. He said little to his companion, and those few phrases had
been respectful compared to the abuse he heaped on Sera. For her, he
seemed to hold a special hatred. She got the impression it was
because she worked so hard to deny him the sadistic pleasure of
watching her kick and scream.
It amused her, that he was so invested
in her reactions. He was like a schoolyard bully, only happy when he
upset someone else. It would be pointless for her to cry and beg, and
would only feed his sadism, so she concentrated on her plan and
ignored him.
Her plan, if it could be called that,
hadn’t made much progress over the two days she’d been with her
captors. For while the first man was comically easy to bother, there
was the matter of the second.
The taller man, larger built and with
long, dark hair, posed a serious problem to any plan Sera might
contrive to escape. He spoke little, but his grey eyes seemed to
notice everything. Even now, as the shorter man jerked on the rope
that bound her hands, she had barely stumbled before he was there.
His hand closed around her arm—she hadn’t realized how much
larger he was, that his fingers touched around her bicep—and he
roughly kept her on her feet. While one might mistake his silence for
stupidity, she could sense the power between her two captors. The
large man was unmistakably in charge.
---
The girl’s silence was starting to
grate on him. At first, Geoff had been glad not to have to hear the
usual, “Who are you? Where are you taking me?” After two days of
walking, though, it was becoming unnerving. They had removed her gag
when they were far enough into the woods, but the girl still hadn’t
said a word. She just walked obediently between him and Hunter, hands
bound in front of her and eyes on the ground. If he wasn’t careful,
he almost forgot she was there.
Geoff refused to think that she was so
quiet because she dreaded their destination. Instead, he vilified
her, convincing himself that she was trying to guilt them into
releasing her. As time went on, he began to resent her more, telling
himself that she was just pouting, that he shouldn’t give in to her
childish behavior. He refused to start feeling bad for her.
In moments, however, when he was less
careful about his thoughts, he began to see that she had known
someone was coming for her. She knew what they were bringing her to,
and looked upon her fate with resigned dread. But he wouldn’t admit
that he was taking her to torment and most likely to death. He
preferred to think that she was manipulating them, and made himself
angry with her for it.
To that end, he began to abuse her.
During the day, he set the pace. Hunter’s silence when the pace
became punishing encouraged him, and he would insult her when she
fell behind him.
“Move that ass, slut,” he hissed
on the third morning as she struggled to rise past the protesting
muscles in her legs. She didn’t even look at him, and so he went
on, refusing to admit to himself that all he wanted was a reaction
from this unflappable girl. “What, bitch, you think you’re better
than me? Well let me tell you, I’ll be there when the warlord
knocks your little pedestal out from under you, and I’ll laugh. Oh,
yeah, I’ll laugh my ass off.” She was finally on her feet, eyes
on the ground, and he turned away, grinding his teeth. He missed the
single tear that hit the pine needles at her feet.
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