Chapter 37
P erspective is a funny thing. I thought I knew what the worst thing Kyle could throw at me was.
I thought I knew pain, that nothing he could do would surprise me after so long with him, and yet Benedict’s visits are a whole new beast. They compound the physical torture of what was done to me with the mental torture of witnessing the same horrors being bestowed onto my baby sister.
It’s hell on Earth. Every time I close my eyes, all I can see is her face, etched in pain as they take what they want and leave no inch untouched.
My own injuries felt like nothing in comparison to watching her shatter before my eyes.
I’m constantly on edge, dreading the day Kyle taunts me with their next visit, and at the same time, he seems to be unravelling before my eyes.
It started small—the odd day without coming down to the basement, tossing me slightly more food than normal.
But over the last few weeks, he’s got steadily laxer with the privacy of his phone calls.
I’ve managed to catch snippets of numerous conversations, and adding them together paints a picture so ugly, I don’t know if I can stomach being right, if it’s something I can handle without the fragile shards of my sanity shattering completely.
We’ve got his daughter.
The last shipment was stolen.
He’s dead. We need to get a new leader in place.
Arranged marriage.
A new heir.
The missing context haunts me with the what ifs, but unless I want to face Kyle’s wrath and ask questions, there’s not much I can do except file it all away for later and keep my ears open, as much as it pains me.
The mere fact that some rat is feeding him this information has my stomach churning with the implications.
Do they know about my ties to Jonathan? About Cora?
The thought of any of this kicking back on her has what little fight I have left notching up into high gear.
So, with every trip upstairs, I search for a way out, a weapon, anything I could use to my advantage when the time comes.
But while he might slip up in a lot of ways, he always makes sure to tie me up before leaving the room.
“Wakey, wakey. We’re going on a field trip.
” At first, I just blink at him, convinced I’ve heard him wrong.
Field trip? As in, leave this hell hole?
It’s more than I ever dared hope for. Crossing his arms across his chest, he cocks a brow at me.
Clearly, my shocked silence isn’t the response he was hoping for.
Rotating my wrist in its cuff, I cock an answering brow as I drawl, “A little help here?”
“Watch the attitude,” he grumbles, ambling over and twisting my nipple until I let out a hiss of pain.
Satisfied he’s proven his point—that he can, and will, hurt me at any given moment—he works on freeing me before leading me over to the bath in the corner.
Grimacing at the griminess and the coldness, I grit my teeth as he hoses me down with ice cold water.
“If I were you, I’d be on my best behaviour.
Wouldn’t want to give Benedict any reason to take him temper out on poor little Freya, would you?
” Turning the water off, Kyle turns his attention to taunting me with what’s to come, but the reality is, nothing he says will even scratch the surface of what’s waiting for me there.
With me blindfolded, restrained, and stuffed naked into a boot of a car, the journey to Benedict’s passes without much fanfare.
For a while, I try to keep track of the route, but soon, the lefts and rights blur together in a way that’s impossible to keep track of.
What is easy to note is that the distance between the two can’t be much more than an hour.
Sooner than I’m ready for, Kyle is dragging me out of the boot, shoving me in front of him with a hand firmly fisted in my hair while the other grips my shoulder.
Only once we’re inside does he free me of the blindfold.
Wincing at the sudden brightness, I glance up, only to be met with Benedict’s leer mere inches from my face.
It’s like looking the devil in the eyes, but I refuse to back down.
“Any news?” Kyle grunts, shifting Benedict’s focus to him—for now.
“Other than the stepson being a pain in the ass? No. Same shit, different day. Apparently, Jonathan’s too wrapped up in the reappearance of his daughter, he thinks Angus’ death means there’s nothing more to dig into.
” He snorts, disdain dripping from every word.
It’s clear they think Jonathan a fool, and it’s also clear they have no knowledge about my ties to him.
Either that, or they’re so sure I’ll never make it out alive.
Schooling my features, I pretend to be zoned out in hopes they’ll talk shop a little more.
“Fucking idiots. As if something this big could be run by one man.” Kyle scoffs before tugging me closer to him.
Feeling his hardness dig into my lower back, I swallow down my instinct to lash out—the fear of not knowing where Freya is or what they have in store for us has me in a death grip.
As sweaty palms grope and their excited conversation floats around me, I focus on the fact that if they’re hurting me, they’re leaving her alone, and for that, I would happily sell my soul.
“Where’s your little pet? I’ve been hard as steel thinking about getting a taste of her again.”
“Downstairs. The cunt threw up on me this morning, so I left her down there. Ungrateful whore.”
“All the more reason to pay her a visit. Put her in her place.”
“Be my guest. I’ve got all I need right here.” With that, Benedict thrusts two fingers inside my underprepared body. Hissing out in pain only gains me a cruel smirk as he keeps up his ministrations.
“Be a good pet, and I won’t hurt your sister…
much.” With that parting hiss, Kyle leaves me in Benedict’s clutches to find Freya.
Thousands of scenarios rush through my head in a matter of seconds—ways to get out of this unscathed, ways to get Freya away from this monster, what I could do or say to stop the hurricane of pain rushing towards us.
But in the end, I come up blank. The reality is, men like these will never listen to reason.
They like getting their kicks this way—in fact, I’d wager it’s the only way they can.
My mouth has dried, my tongue stuck to the roof of my mouth. Instead, all the moisture has made its way to my eyes in the form of unshed tears I don’t dare let fall. Showing that kind of weakness won’t help anyone. Prying my tongue free, I push out some words, useless as they’ll be.
“Please, don’t let him hurt her,” I choke out, my eyes downcast and shoulders slumped forward. The sight of his hand between my legs tests my willpower not to also vomit all over him.
“Stupid girl. Why would I do that?” he hisses, using his free hand to force me to meet his hard eyes.
His disgusting breath invades my senses, further testing my stomach’s resolve.
As his cold, dead eyes glower at me, a piercing shrill deafens me.
Danger, it screams at me. Pushing this monster is something to be avoided at all costs, lest I want to suffer the consequences.
In a split second, he wrenches his hand free from my body and seizes me by the throat, lifting me clean off the ground.
Instinctively, I claw at his hand as the need for air balloons inside me.
Benedict doesn’t flinch—instead, he tightens his grip with a smirk.
The edges of my vision darken and, slowly but surely, the fight fades out of me as my lungs scream for air.
Distantly, I hear a scream, though it sounds worlds away.
Snarling, he tosses me to the floor. I grunt from the impact, gasping for breath, landing awkwardly on my left wrist. Before I can even comprehend what just happened, I hear a guttural scream that has me scrambling to sit up.
Before I can, Kyle is climbing on top of me, pinning me under his bulk.
Realisation lashes through me seconds before my eyes process what they’re seeing, and my survival instincts kick into overdrive.
Twisting beneath Kyle, I try desperately to dislodge him, but truly, what chances do I have at knocking someone easily double, if not triple, my weight off me?
“Get the fuck off her! Leave her alone!” I screech, bucking my hips as the scene beside us unfolds.
Benedict has Freya pinned down in a similar position, his hands working frantically between them.
With a groan, he thrusts himself inside my protesting sister.
Her screaming and futile attempts to stop him do little more than rile him up.
“Such a tight whore, even after all this time. Too bad you had to interfere. I’ve had enough of your insolence,” he snarls, his fist clenched tight around her throat.
Her head lulls towards me, her eyes holding me captive as the fight drains out of them.
She stops fighting, stops moving, even as he thrusts himself inside her repeatedly.
Her skin turns pale, all the colour bleached out of it as her eyes grow hazy.
Through it all, I can’t look away. My desperation turns rabid.
I’m an animal backed into a corner, willing to tear flesh from bones with my teeth if it means saving her.
I will do anything—absolutely anything —to save her.
But in the end, there’s nothing I can do.
I can only lie there and watch as that monster snuffs my sister’s life out under his fist as he reaches his finish inside her still form.
Something inside me snaps in that moment, even as my body shuts down, all fight or flight instincts abandoning me as they turn their attention to me.
“What the hell happened down there?” Benedict demands as he stands, crossing his arms across his chest and not caring his dick is still out. Pig.
“As soon as I opened the door, the bitch lunged for me. Near took my damn eye out.”
“What, and you couldn’t contain her?” he snorts.
“Fuck off. You’re the one who left her unchained.
Are you fucking stupid?” Kyle grumbles as he stands before reaching down to drag me to my feet.
I can’t tear my eyes away from the sight of Freya: blonde hair a mess of matted curls, skin and bones, bruises littering every inch of her.
Even as they continue to argue amongst themselves, my eyes stay glued to her as thoughts of what I should have done differently race through my mind.
I promise, they’ll pay for this, Frey.