She imagined people being thrown into rivers with cement blocks on their feet. There was nothing they could do about the inevitable. Knowing they would die but having to wait for each agonizing second to tick by. It was hell.

Volkan dragged her out of the spray and ran his big hand over her face, clearing her eyes. Water streamed from her mouth and nose and she gasped for air, imagining that she must look like a fish pulled out of the water and tossed onto a riverbank.

He held her up as he used a soapy washcloth on her, running it over her body, touching her everywhere, pressing it into every intimate part of her. The cloth sent sparks of pain through her as he used it roughly against her vagina, scrubbing at her clit.

He didn’t seem to care that his clothes were getting soaked. He just stared at her with those eyes, wild with excitement and triumph. She hated that look. Wanted to wipe it off his face. Or better yet, freeze it in place as she killed him. Sliding a knife between his ribs and piercing his heart, killing him before he even knew what happened.

Yasmin was not a bloodthirsty person but imagining all the ways in which she could kill her kidnapper kept her sane as he cleaned her in the shower, violating her with his fingers as he left nothing untouched.

Finally, he turned the water off and dragged her from the shower. He propped her against the sink, holding her like a lifeless doll as he wiped the moisture from her body. Again, he was careful to touch every part of her, leaving nothing alone. He slid the towel down each limb, then under her arms, then between her legs.

When he was satisfied that she was finished, he carried her back into the bedroom. Laying her on the bed, he walked away from her. She couldn’t turn her head to watch, but she could hear him opening and closing drawers. When he returned, he held a white satin nightgown. He pulled it over her head, then maneuvered her arms through the armholes. Smoothing the material down her body, he stepped back to look at her.

His gaze seemed critical, and she wanted to scream at him that it was his fault if he saw something wrong, but he nodded then walked away. Seconds later, he came back holding a hairbrush. He ran it through her tresses, careful not to tug as it caught on the knots in her hair. He smoothed the strands away from her head, creating a halo on the bedspread.

When he finished, he stood and stripped off his clothes before climbing into the bed next to her. He pulled her into his arms, forcing her to rest her head on his chest where he ran his fingers through her hair.