23. Chapter Twenty- One
Chapter Twenty- One
Xena
I struggle to open my eyes. The sharp pain in my nose and mouth registers immediately, making me wince. When I finally manage to blink away the haze, I almost sigh in relief—I’m still in my room. But then, the memory of him crashes back.
I try to move, only to find my arms and legs pinned in place. Panic rises as I look down at the tangled mess of Christmas lights that hold me bound to my bed, naked and fully exposed. My skin feels raw from the way the lights dig into my flesh.
But... I’m alone.
I lower my head back onto the pillow, staring at my bound hands and feet. The lights wrap tightly around my wrists, and the cords bite into my skin when I tug. I try to twist, bringing my mouth to the cables. I start to gnaw, my teeth scraping against the wires, but it’s taking too long. Too damn long. Desperation claws at me as I bite harder, my heart racing.
The door creaks open, and my blood turns to ice.
"Ahh... you’re awake now." His voice. Familiar. Cold. Vik steps into the room, closing the door behind him with a soft click. "Sorry about your nose. I needed you docile to tie you up." His eyes glint as he licks his lips and strides toward me .
"Why?" I croak, my voice cracking as my throat burns.
For a moment, something flickers in his blue eyes—softness, maybe—but it vanishes just as quickly as it came. He sits on the edge of the bed, his weight making the mattress dip, his hand trailing up my bare leg slowly, deliberately, as though savoring each inch of exposed skin.
"Why?" I ask again, my chest tight with fear.
He doesn’t meet my gaze as his fingers slip between my legs, finding their way to my most vulnerable spot. "It’s a long story," he mutters, voice distant, "one that your dear brother needs to be present for. But first... a little fun." His hand moves with more intent, his fingers probing my pussy, spreading me open.
"No..." I twist my body to the side, furiously biting at the cables, trying to free myself, but it’s no use. His fingers invade me, and a traitorous moan builds at the back of my throat. Those damn talented fingers—he knows exactly how to manipulate my body. He always has.
"So much tragedy over a pussy that clenches for anyone," Vik drawls, slipping a ringed finger inside me. I can’t help the way my body responds, my cunt tightening around his touch. "Why?" I sob, half moaning the word, my body betraying me in the worst possible way.
Vik chuckles darkly, the sound rumbling from deep within him. "Tony sent you?" I ask, desperate, trying anything to distract him, to make him stop.
But he only fucks me harder with his fingers, making me gasp. "What would your dear big brother think when he sees what kind of whore you are?" Vik sneers, pulling his fingers from my wet heat. The look of disgust on his face mirrors exactly what I feel inside. "Not worth a damn thing. Nothing but a worthless whore."
He stands from the bed, pacing, his white sweater stretching over the muscles in his back as he walks across the room. I hate him. I hate that he’s right. I hate that my body responded to his cruelty.
"Are you waiting for Roman?" I ask, my voice hoarse .
That makes him stop. He turns toward me, his mouth curling into a grin, pearly teeth glowing in the pale moonlight spilling in from the window. "He’s the guest of honor, my little whore."
The words make my stomach churn. My heart pounds, the panic rising again, but I force myself to stay calm. I shake my head, my wet hair sticking to my face as I try to blink away the tears blurring my vision. He moves back toward me, his hands working on his belt buckle. The metal clinks as it falls open, and then his pierced cock springs free.
"Don't look at me like that. I've fucked you so many times. This isn’t new," he says, climbing back onto the bed.
I try to thrash, to kick, to move—anything to keep him away—but my body is still bound, helpless. His hand finds my face, and the slap comes hard, stinging like fire. "Nothing but a whore," Vik spits, positioning himself above me. Then, without warning, he thrusts inside.
My tears fall harder now, soaking the pillow beneath my head as he moves slowly at first, with a cruel precision, making sure to prove his point. My body betrays me again, a broken whimper slipping past my lips as my pussy clenches around him.
He chuckles, biting down on my shoulder, making my body jerk in pain. "Such a dirty whore," he whispers in my ear.
I hate him. I hate myself. My body is responding, my walls squeezing around him with each thrust. I want to throw up, but my stomach only clenches tighter. He fucks me with the same skill, the same cruel intent he always has. But this time... this time, I didn’t want it.
As Vik continues his slow, torturous assault, he reaches into his pocket and pulls out a prescription bottle. My gaze zeroes in on it, the familiar bottle that holds my only escape.
"You want some?" he moans into my ear, still buried inside me. Unscrewing the bottle, he pours the pills into his hand. "I can make it all better, Candy. "
My throat closes up, and I shake my head. "No," I breathe.
His grin widens, his eyes lighting up with malice. "That was the correct answer," he sneers before shoving the handful of pills into my mouth. I try to spit them out, but his hand clamps over my lips, forcing me to swallow.
The bitterness of the pills hits my tongue, and I gag, knowing that I’ve swallowed most of them. My eyes widen as I realize his plan. He’s going to overdose me.
He sees the realization dawning in my eyes and smirks, finishing inside me with a groan. "Such a good pussy... such a waste," he murmurs, pulling out and wiping his cock on the sheets before tucking himself back into his pants.
Vik moves toward the window, his impatience growing, glancing outside at the snowstorm. I pray Roman is on his way, but knowing my shitty tires, he might be stuck—or worse.
"He might not be coming," I say quietly, my voice barely above a whisper. "I'll die, and I won’t even know why."
Vik turns, his cold blue eyes boring into me with disgust. He marches back toward the bed, yanking at the lights wrapped around my legs, freeing them. The moment I feel my legs loosen, I kick with all my strength, landing a blow right between his legs.
"BITCH!" he roars, doubling over in pain.
I smile grimly and bite harder at the cables around my wrists. The final strand snaps, and I free one hand, but before I can reach for the other, a Doc Marten slams into my face. The world spins, and everything goes dark.
The cold hits me first—piercing, sharp, sinking into my bones. It' s wet, too. Freezing water laps at my feet, my body shivering uncontrollably. I try to move, to break free, but the numbness is overwhelming. When I finally manage to open my eyes, the world around me spins in slow motion. The blurred image of myself tied to a tree almost submerged in the freezing lake slowly comes into focus. My stomach clenches, nausea clawing at my throat.
"Nice of you to join me," Vik's voice cuts through the haze, distant and muffled like he's talking underwater. My head throbs with the effort it takes to focus on him. He stands in front of me, towering, but he’s nothing more than a ghostly figure in my spinning world. My limbs are heavy, my body unresponsive, and my thoughts are slipping further away, tangled in a drugged fog.
His hand makes contact with my face in a light slap, dragging my focus back, just for a moment. "Don’t die yet. You’ll miss the best part." His words sound almost amused, but there’s a venom beneath them, like he’s savoring the torment. He lets go of my face, and I can’t stop my body from tipping sideways, the world tilting with me. I’m tied to the tree—fuck—he’s cut it up, and I know what’s coming. The lake will swallow me whole, and I'll be too out of it to even fight back. My chest tightens, panic clawing at the edges of my mind.
But it's too cold, too slow. My teeth chatter uncontrollably as I struggle to breathe. My head swims, light and airy, like I’m floating away. "Ro..." I manage to whisper, my voice slurred, barely audible. It feels like my heart’s skipping beats, stuttering in my chest. I’m not going to make it—Roman won’t even know what happened to me. My breath comes in shallow gasps, and I feel the heat of tears streaming down my ice-cold cheeks.
"Why?" I whisper again, the word barely forming as I shiver violently. I can’t stop it. My body’s shutting down, but I can’t stop the flood of emotions pouring out. The tears feel like fire against my frozen skin. Everything’s becoming so distant. Vik’s attention is elsewhere now, his figure moving in and out of focus. I try to hold onto the moment, to stay aware, but my body betrays me. I can hear a chainsaw somewhere, the harsh buzzing sound a distant threat.
My body lurches to the side, and I vomit, the sudden motion wracking my entire body with pain. My throat burns, my stomach twisting and convulsing. I choke on the bile, coughing and spitting, the bitter taste lingering. My vision swims again, blurring as I gasp for air, tears mixing with the vomit staining my chin.
So cold. So fucking cold.
I try to cling to consciousness, but it’s like slipping underwater. My skin is ice, my fingers are numb, and my mind is retreating into darkness. Vik is still talking, still pacing, but his voice is just a hum in the background, barely audible. My breath is shallow, my heart sluggish. The pills are taking me under, dragging me down into the black abyss, and I can feel it—the end.
"Roman," I try again, but it’s barely a whisper, barely a sound at all.
The world tilts again, and I can't fight it.