Chapter 4 #2
“Yes, boss,” Dean answers as he stalks towards me, and for every step he takes, I take one back.
It only increases his crooked smile, a jagged scar that bisects the right side of his face, making his lips tug awkwardly.
The sound of my cell door being locked is like the click of a gun before it goes off, the bullet destined to be the one to kill you.
My sperm donor’s boots are loud as they hit the concrete floor and match my rapid heartbeat, then the door opens and closes, and I’m alone, locked in a cell with my worst nightmare.
“Your father really is pissed at you, girlie,” he leers, sounding like the icy whisper of a plague in the bed of an infant.
“He says I can't kill you.” He looks disappointed, like the idea of my death really turned him on.
Oh yeah, Dean doesn't need you breathing to get off.
“But I can make you long for death before I fuck you til you bleed.”
“You lay a fucking finger on her—” Jude seethes, his voice raspy and slurring.
His words are cut off when Dean gives a grating chuckle that sounds like crows fighting over the dead flesh of some poor animal.
I can’t stop the shudder that runs through me at the sound, at the way his shit-brown eyes never leave me, trailing up and down my naked body.
My gaze flickers to the cage opposite, noticing the three remaining guys now standing at the bars, clutching them as if they’re the only things keeping them upright.
Aeron is stock-still, unblinking in an icy rage which isn't aimed at me but at Dean. Anger pours off of him in palpable waves as he stares at the Soldier’s back.
Tarl is clenching his jaw so tightly that I'm worried about his perfect teeth, but it's Jude that really gives me pause.
His face is set in lines of beautiful agony, devastation, and hopelessness as he watches the scene before him.
There's anger there sure, but he knows as well as I do that there's fuck all they can do to help and that I'm no match for this monster.
“It'll be okay, Jude,” I say softly, his turbulent, ocean eyes snapping to mine, shimmering with unshed tears.
“I'll be okay.” My hands hang limply at my sides, my voice cracking at the end.
My heart thuds dully in my chest, and I know that it's a fucking lie.
We both know it and I watch as he swallows hard, straightening his shoulders and blinking furiously, trying to be strong. For me, I think.
His eyes widen suddenly, his mouth opening to shout but I don’t hear it before pain explodes across my jaw and my head snaps to the side, my whole body slamming into the concrete floor. More pain erupts across my side, the hard, unforgiving surface bruising every part it touches instantly.
Fucking stupid Lark, taking your eyes off the predator who’s locked in with you.
I can hear shouts and curses, but it’s faint through the ringing in my head, and my vision blurs as I blink.
A hand tangles in my auburn locks, wrapping tightly and using it to pull me to my feet with a pained cry escaping my lips.
My hands fly to grip his, to try and alleviate the tearing out of my hair, but it makes little difference.
My world becomes a storm of pain after that, one hurt rolling into another until there’s not a single part of me that doesn’t scream in agony or bleed. I’m lying on the cold floor again, along the front of my cell, my body spent and unable to hold my weight up anymore.
“See,” comes Dean’s whisper, his rancid breath fanning across my face and reminding me of stagnant water with dead things floating in it. “You may not be dead, girlie, but you’re almost there.”
He flips me onto my stomach, bile rising in my throat as my head swirls and the room tilts.
My ribs protest—something is definitely fractured if not broken—but I can no longer make a sound, my throat raw from screams that I stopped hearing some time ago.
My body jerks as he yanks my legs apart, agony screaming along my many hurts at the rough move.
I’m so fucking dizzy and disorientated that I can’t even fight him off.
Through the buzzing in my ears, I hear the clink of a belt buckle, my heartbeat becoming frantic like a trapped bird as the reality of what’s about to happen sinks into my bruised bones.
Living with the Tailor boys has spoiled me, made it easy to forget what it’s like to have to unwillingly give my body over to a man who didn’t even ask, let alone earn the right to it.
A small pained grunt hisses from my lips as Dean enters my dry pussy, but the sharp sting is nothing compared to the throbbing of the rest of my body, it’s enough to tell me that there'll be some tears that Doc will have to sew up later. It won’t be the first time he’s done it, although it depends on if I’m allowed medical attention after this.
I hope so, otherwise, the shallow stab wound Rufus gave me will become problematic.
Currently, I can barely feel it, the throbbing of the rest of my body is too great.
“Dove.” A broken murmur sounds from in front of me, and I turn my head to find Aeron’s stormy, blue eyes drowning in agony on the other side of the two sets of bars.
He’s lying on the floor so that his face is level with mine, the cages only a few feet apart.
Slowly, he stretches his hand out so that his arm is lying across the walkway, his shoulder pressed up to the bars, just like I assume he did last night.
Taking a deep exhale, I move my arm so that it, too, lies across the walkway. Flashes of pain race up my side from my ribs as I try to stretch to reach his fingers.
“That’s it, baby, just a little further,” he encourages, even as my arm jerks in time to the thrusts behind me.
I shift closer, ignoring the annoyed grunt from Dean as my body moves.
I’m surprised he doesn’t make more of a fuss, but he’s too busy rutting into me like a fucking pig to notice I guess.
A soft gasp escapes my mouth as my fingers brush Aeron’s, his own clasping the tips of mine as if the touch is the most important thing in the world. Useless tears well in my eyes, spilling over at the same time as a drop leaves his own lids to run down his nose.
“It’ll be okay, Dove, I swear,” he vows, his voice raspy and thick. “I won’t rest until everyone who’s ever laid a hand on you lies bleeding at your feet. Including this cunt.”
“Is that so, baby Tailor?” Dean taunts, pausing in his movements, and the skin surrounding Aeron’s eyes tighten, although his gaze never leaves mine.
I shiver as a meaty hand brushes my aching scalp, chunky fingers tangling in my hair once more.
“You’re a tad too awake for my tastes, girlie,” he whispers, sending shivers of revulsion down my spine as he pulls my head back, my neck bending at a sharp angle.
I lose my grip on Aeron’s fingers, the loss of comfort far worse than the pain in my body.
“N—” Aeron shouts, but I don’t hear the rest as my head cracks down on the floor one last time and everything goes black.