Auto Mechanic for the Mafia

Chapter 34

TW: Suicidal thoughts

Bex POV

I'm not sure how long it's been. A few days, a week, a year? What I do know is I can't keep going like this. I can't survive much longer. I want to but I'm just so fucking exhausted.

I try to think of Enzo and Marco, but I know the truth. Marco is dead. They showed me camera footage of him being wheeled out of the condo in a black bag. I'm not dumb, I know what that means. He is dead and the thought of it makes me numb. They did the same thing to Enzo, they showed me a picture of him strangled to death.

I know the other boys would try to find me, but if the Mexicans killed Enzo and Marco, I bet my life savings the others are gone too.

Everything hurts. My head, my heart, my body. At first, they had me dancing in a strip club. I would do private rooms too, luckily they weren't allowed to rape me, but they touched me and nobody did nothing about it. I have never felt so humiliated in my life. If stripping is what you want to do I have no complaints, and the girls in there were so awesome and strong for dealing with that bullshit.

But maybe because I was a prisoner, Miguel would make me entertainment for the nastiest men in the club. He would put me in nothing but panties, and leave me there for hours, dancing to survive, but hating myself for it. Just thinking about it will make me puke.

It's not like that would be the first time today. For some reason a while ago, I have no concept of time, they pulled me from the strip club and put me in this fucking room. I am chained to the ceiling and I have been since I got here. I can't feel my arms.

They have been beating me to the edges of my life. Tazoring me, hitting me, slapping me, kicking me. My nose is broken, my ribs are broken, my shoulder dislocated. This is hell. 

They barely feed me, just give enough water to keep me alive and once in a while some bread. I can't sleep. I'm too scared, too sad, in too much pain. 

A bit ago was the worst. Three guys came in asking about Marco's intentions, which I find weird because he is dead. I wouldn't tell them though in case some of his men are still going to carry out his plan. It was the usual beating, I even thought it was better than normal because there were no whips involved.

But then it went to hell. They started slashing my skin with a knife and that was that. I haven't cried since the first night, but I let it all out. It was too much. I thought I was dead right then and there. It almost seemed like they were purposely making it bad for a show. Why would they do that? Nobody was watching.

They gave me something after to stop the bleeding, but nothing for the infection I will have or the pain. Since, I have been crying and puking and that leads me to now where I am currently trying to loosen a nail in the chains where my hands are. I can't feel my hands or arms, but I can see them moving. The dislocated shoulder makes the pain horrible and this task fucking impossible.

Miguel Gonzales is to blame. For my pain. For Marco and Enzo's death. For my future death. I don't know much but what I do know is that I am going to kill him or hurt him as much as possible, and hopefully they will kill me.

I don't want to be alive anymore, I can't be. I'm twisting and twisting that damn screw until finally it pops out. Yes. Thank you lord Jesus.

Just as I plan how best to use a screw as a weapon, as if the world read my thoughts, none other then Mr. Miguel Fuck You Gonzales walks in.

"Hello my sweet Bex," he says walking right up to me. "How are you doing today?"

I hate him so fucking much. Obviously I am doing really shitty thanks for asking. I don't answer and defiantly turn my head.