Chapter 31
A n indeterminable amount of time later, I’m ushered up the stairs, naked and blindfolded; wearing clothes is a ghost from the past. As I’m pushed to the ground, the impact of the cold, rough floor on my bare knees sends a shockwave of pain up my spine.
I know better than to react. Instead, I embrace the pain for what it is: a reminder that I’m still alive.
The telltale sounds of gravel kicking up outside alerts me to our company arriving.
Any second now, a fresh wave of hell will descend upon me.
Screwing my eyes closed behind my blindfold, I count backwards from ten.
Days when we have company are always the worst. Never once has a visitor resulted in anything good.
The last time we had one, I couldn’t move for a week.
The time before that, it was a month. Taking what might be my last pain free breath for a while, I brace myself.
Raucous laughter booms from outside. The mere sound makes my skin crawl with the need to get out of here.
Now . But if being blindfolded and naked wasn’t enough of a hindrance, having my wrists tied behind my back ensures the chances of me making a run for it while my tormenter welcomes his guest is impossible. I learnt that the hard way.
“It’s been far too long, Kyle. I’d hoped for an invitation sooner than this.
After all, you wouldn’t even have such a delicious pet if not for me.
” The all-too-familiar Scottish lilt sends a wave of terror through me as the front door closes behind them.
The control I’ve fought so hard to hold onto is slipping through my fingers like quicksand as my mind races to find alternative explanations.
My ears are deceiving me. I’m imagining things.
I have to be. The alternative is more than I’m prepared to face.
“You’ll have to forgive me. I’d meant to have you over sooner, but my dear pet here took quite a bit of breaking in before she was up to standards.
I didn’t want to insult you with a subpar offering,” Kyle blusters.
The panic lacing his words, so far from his usual cocksure attitude, tells me I’m not imagining things.
A tremor of fear races up my spine as I hold my breath, hoping, praying I’m wrong.
“I do hope she still has some fight in her. The feisty ones are always the most rewarding. When you feel the fight leave them as you make them come on your cock. Seeing the light dim as you tear them apart. There truly is nothing better, don’t you agree?
” His taunting words sink into my bones, weighing me down and trying to force me to bow under their weight as he stalks closer.
He’s so close, the woodsy cologne that haunted my childhood burns my sinuses as he crouches down and removes my blindfold.
“Why, hello there, my runaway bride. Miss me?” The salacious expression on his face as his eyes drop to my exposed chest tests my resolve to remain dissociated from what’s going to happen.
At my silence, Angus chuckles, a mixture of amusement and condescension.
Hot breath fans across my face as he leans closer, his coarse beard scraping across the side of my face as his venom seeps into my pores.
“Freya made a beautiful bride. She was positively glowing, though that might have been thanks to being pregnant. I couldn’t take any risks a second time.
You understand.” His words land like a physical blow.
Please, God, no . Everything I’ve done, everything I sacrificed…
It was all in vain. I thought running away would force him to turn his attention on some other family, and yet, if his words are to be believed, I grossly miscalculated. How could my parents have allowed this?
He leans back, his cold grey eyes searching mine. What is he waiting for? For me to congratulate him? Say I’m sure it was a lovely ceremony, sorry I missed it? Go fuck yourself, you piece of paedo shit?
None are words I can let pass my lips, not unless I want to risk his wrath or, God forbid, him taking it out on Freya.
Sweet, innocent Freya, who only ever wanted the freedom to chase her artistic dreams. God, I let her down so spectacularly, it burns.
I should have done more; I should have brought her with me.
I should have done something, anything, to protect her from this monster.
Why the hell did I ever believe she was safe being the walls of St Andrew’s?
I should have gone back for her at the first opportunity.
Instead, she’s been paying the price for my own naivety.
Flicking my gaze slightly to the left, I count the tiles on the wall behind him until I can shove my temper back into the lockbox I keep it in, where it can fester and grow until I’m free to unleash every scrap of anger I’ve been forced to swallow.
“Nothing to say? How disappointing.” He tuts, rising to his full height and disappearing out of my line of sight. I don’t have long to wonder where he’s disappeared to. Wrapping my hair around his fist in a cruel grip, he yanks my head back before continuing his taunting.
“What do you say we put her through her paces, Kyle? See if we can’t get her to show us some of that famous Scottish fire, hmm?
” The glint in his eyes would have terror licking up my spine if I wasn’t so numb to my body being abused at this point.
Not a day has gone by in this hell hole when my body has been my own.
Pain has become my closest confidant. So, while Angus’ taunting words have my stomach revolting, they float over me, skimming me but not quite sinking in .
After all, what harm can his words do in the face of what’s to come?
What are words and taunts compared to searing pain and intrusive touches?
Kyle must agree as, with a sharp tug on my hair, Angus draws me to my feet and turns me to face him. Kyle closes in behind me. The sick excitement that coats his features has my stomach twisting into a knot of unease. Please, God, let me get through this.
“It’s about time you give me what should have been mine.
What do you think your Johnny boy would think if he could see you now?
Naked and at my mercy, where you belong.
Irish loving slut.” Spittle flies into my face.
Flinching back, I stumble into Kyle, whose grip on my wrists stops me in my tracks.
The suffocating feeling of being trapped seeps in as Angus trails one knuckle across my cheek before gripping my jaw and tilting my head up.
“Now, now, be a good girl, and I won’t have to hurt little Freya.
And you wouldn’t want that, would you? Or maybe you do.
Maybe you want her to join you, hmm? I can arrange that, you know.
Gift Kyle here another pet to train.” One look in his manic eyes tells me the sick cocksucker would do it a heartbeat.
The mere thought of my baby sister in that basement of horrors with me is more than I can handle.
“Leave her the fuck out of this,” I snarl, thrashing against my restraints as all rational thought vanishes.
Instant regret floods my system as his face lights up with glee a split second before he lashes out, circling my throat and applying pressure until black spots dance across my vision.
I’m wheezing for breath as he leans in, that damn cologne choking me almost as successfully as his fist.
“I want to see you covered in blood, dripping with it, as the realisation you’ve just sealed your sister’s fate sinks in,” he sneers before jerking his chin at Kyle.
For a moment, it’s me and him, frozen in a staring contest so full of hatred, it’s a wonder the building doesn’t alight around us.
Then, Kyle is back, joining Angus in front of me and pressing a meat cleaver into his open palm.
I can’t tear my eyes from the knife, in fact, I can’t move at all.
There’s nowhere to run, even if I could.
The one time I tried, I made it as far as the front lawn, only to discover we’re truly in the middle of nowhere, no neighbour in sight.
So yeah, I could try to run, but how fast can I run across gravel with bare feet? Not fast enough.
“Sir, if I may? Why don’t we move this downstairs, where you’ll have more room to…enjoy my pet,” Kyle interjects, standing off to the side, shifting his weight and looking a second away from pissing himself.
It’s ironic. Up until now, he’s seemed like the big bad wolf, but in comparison to Angus and the threat hanging in the air since he arrived, Kyle feels like the safer option.
Better the devil you know. Kyle, as sick and cruel as he may be, clearly wants a living pet, someone to torture and fuck when and as he pleases.
But to Angus, I’m disposable. He replaced me once; who’s to say he can’t and won’t do it again?
With a grunt of agreement, Angus wedges the knife into his waistband before tossing me over his shoulder with his hand firmly planted on my backside.
His wandering hand as we make our way back to the basement is the least of my worries.
Tossing me down onto my cot, he follows me down with that damn knife in his grip once again.
“Now, why don’t we play a little game? Let’s see how many cuts it takes to make you squeal like the rat you are.
” He cackles as he presses the tip of the knife against my collarbone, his beady eyes glued to the blood that swells up.
Over his shoulder, Kyle shifts his weight from foot to foot, the same sick desire dancing across his features.
Time blurs as my skin turns red and pools of blood seep into the threadbare mattress.
His erection presses into my hip, his enjoyment more than evident.
Bile threatens to escape at the implications of what’s to come.
The clicking of his belt buckle is soon followed by pressure against my entrance.
A whimper escapes me as I feel him push himself inside, and wetness I refuse to let fall gathers in the back of my eyes.
Somehow, this is even worse than when Kyle uses my body for his pleasure.
“You like that, don’t you? A slut like you is only good for spreading her legs, isn’t that right?
” he jeers from above me in between groans of pleasure.
Biting my tongue against the venom that wants to spew out, I focus on the ceiling, counting the blood spatters once more.
I wonder how many of those were here before me, how much of my own blood stains the walls of this place now.
Not satisfied with my nonresponse, he digs the tip of his knife into my chin as he demands, “Kyle, make yourself useful and get the poker. I’ll get this bitch to cry out one way or another.”
The implication of that threat has me frantically shaking my head as I plead with the devil between my thighs.
But no amount of pleading or begging is going to stop him, that much is clear, from the euphoria painted across his face to the way he picks up his pace, thrusting himself deeper into my body with every movement, regardless of the pain he’s causing.
“O’Neill will never want to touch you again, not after we ruin you for good,” he taunts before stuttering to a stop with a shout. As he climbs off me, the weight of his body is replaced by the weight of his words, and the tears I’ve been holding back slide down my cheeks in silent agony.
He works to shackle my ankles and wrists to the bed while raining down more taunting remarks, but I’m not here anymore. I’m so lost in my head, in my heartbreak, it’s like I’m floating above my body, watching.
Watching as they make good on their threats to ruin me.
As Kyle joins Angus at my bedside with the red-hot poker at the ready.
As Angus holds me down and Kyle presses the brand into my hip.
As they take and take and take what they want from my body until no part of me remains untouched.
As the tattered remains of my heart crumble with the pain coursing through my body.
Please, let this hell end.