13. Ava
CHAPTER 13
AVA
After spending the afternoon with Bryce on the roof, I’m starting to feel normal again. More like myself.
Sure, I’m still trapped here. Mom still isn’t answering her phone, and I even resorted to trying Gideon, but of course he didn’t pick up either. I don’t have a car, so I can’t leave campus– and even if I could, where would I go? The sad truth is that I’m stuck, so I’m just going to have to make the best of it. I’m not about to throw away my opportunity at a real future because a bunch of fuckboys decided to target me.
I’ve already warned Wes to stay away, and I figure as long as I steer clear of the rest of them, I can make this work. I’ll keep my head down, focus on my studies, and maybe occasionally hang out with people like Richelle or Bryce– potential friends who aren’t complete psychopaths. I can have the true college experience if I let go a little and allow myself to embrace it. The events of last night will eventually become just a blip in my time at Corvus College, fading from memory until I hardly remember at all.
Those are the thoughts that drift through my mind as I lay in bed that night, and they keep me content enough to fall into a deep sleep. So deep that it makes being suddenly woken up even more jarring.
A large hand slams down over my mouth, and my eyes fly open to see a dark figure hovering above my bed, shrouded in shadows. He raises his other hand to his lips, placing a single finger over them in a signal for me to stay quiet.
Yeah right.
I immediately launch into a full-fledged panic, kicking and flailing and screaming into the palm of my assailant. Unfortunately, that’s when I realize he isn’t alone. Someone else has grabbed ahold of my arms and legs– two someones – and fear takes root as it sinks in who these midnight thieves are. I may not be able to see their faces through the dark, but judging by their looming statures and the fact that there are three of them, it’s easy to connect the dots, even in my terrified state.
When they start to lift me from my bed, I fight harder, my screams muffled against the palm still clasped firmly over my mouth. I shake my head back and forth as I continue my attempts to yell for help, my eyes darting around the room in search of something, anything , to put a stop to this. They land on my roommate, safely tucked in her bed across from mine. Her own eyes are open, looking right back at me, and I scream louder, fight harder, holding eye contact with her in a plea for help.
Richelle’s lips move, and for a second, I actually think she’s going to come to my aid. But instead, she just mouths the word ‘ sorry ’, then gathers her fluffy duvet in her hands and lifts it to cover her head, rolling over to face the wall.
Fucking coward.
My heart sinks as the realization sets in that nobody’s going to save me. It’s three against one, and even if I wasn’t severely outnumbered right now, I’m no physical match for any of these boys. That doesn’t mean I don’t continue to fight with everything I have, though.
I won’t go quietly.
“Fucking gag her or something,” one of them mutters.
“Can’t we just knock her out?”
“ No .”
That last reply comes from the one with his hand over my mouth, the deep, foreboding bass of his voice rattling down to my bones. His other hand wraps around my throat, applying pressure to my windpipe as he leans his face down right in front of mine.
“If you don’t want me to break this pretty little neck of yours, then you’ll shut the fuck up,” he warns.
My blood turns to ice in my veins. I’ve heard that voice before, delivering another warning just last night.
‘Play nice, Ava.’
My eyes begin to adjust to the darkness, and when he pulls back, I can make out the sharp lines of his profile, my pulse hammering in recognition. My stepbrother.
Without taking his eyes off mine, he slowly peels his hand away from my mouth, flexing his grip threateningly around my throat as he does. Paralyzed by fear, I don’t make a peep– not even when another one of the guys, who has a firm hold around my middle from behind, forces my mouth open and stuffs a wad of fabric inside. Then he slips a hood over my head and I’m plunged into darkness once more.
The lack of vision makes it difficult to piece together what happens next. My hands are wrenched in front of me, my wrists secured together by something tight. Then I’m picked up and flung over a broad shoulder, carried out of my room and into the hallway. The way I’m jostled as we descend three fights of stairs makes me nauseous, and when I hear a door open and feel the bite of cool night air against my skin, exposed to the elements since I’m in nothing but a thin camisole and a little pair of sleep shorts, a feeling of dread settles in the pit of my stomach.
I don’t make it easy for them. I exhaust myself by trying to fight the whole way, not knowing where they’re taking me but fearing it all the same. The one carrying me curses and complains until another takes over, his hands wandering unabashedly over the backs of my thighs. He squeezes and kneads my flesh until my mind’s so twisted up that some of the fight in me dies out.
That fight returns in full force when I hear the gentle lap of water against the shore, and it dawns on me that they’ve taken me out to the lake.
They’re going to fucking drown me.
I completely wig out, writhing and kicking and slamming my bound hands down over and over against the guy’s back until he actually loses his grip, dropping me onto the ground.
The landing is excruciating. It knocks the wind out of me, my muscles seizing up in agony as I land hard on my back in the cold sand. Before I can even recover, the hood is ripped from my head and I’m met with a cold pair of obsidian eyes staring down at me.
“Calm the fuck down, we’re just here to have a little chat,” Raf barks ominously, twisting the fabric hood in his hands until his knuckles turn white. He stares at me for a long moment, dark eyes burning into mine, then he suddenly lifts his gaze, nodding to one of his friends.
Ford approaches from my other side, crouching down in the sand beside my prone body. “Let me show you a little movie we made,” he croons, licking his lips as he lifts his phone in front of my face and hits play.
“Please!”
I freeze as I hear my voice coming through the speaker, eyes glazing over as they focus on the image splashed across the screen. It’s a video of me spread out on the pool table in the loft, Wes’ head buried between my thighs as I shatter.
It’s like a slow-motion car crash– I’m so horrified that I can’t look away as I watch the video play, the clips and audio spliced together to make it seem like I was a willing participant in my assault.
“I think the little slut wants some cock now, don’t you?”
“Please!”
“Open wide, sweetheart…”
“Shit, she’s loving this!”
My pleas for them to stop have been twisted to sound like I’m begging for them to continue… or am I remembering that wrong? My mind is so knotted up that I suddenly can’t separate fact from fiction.
I didn’t want it. I didn’t…
The sound of my wanton moan as I crest my climax is what does me in, my stomach flip-flopping and bile surging up my throat. Ford must be able to tell that I’m about to hurl, because he pulls the gag out of my mouth at the last second. I fling my head sideways, puking all over Raf’s shoes.
He jumps back in disgust, muttering a string of curses under his breath as I curl sideways and vomit the contents of my stomach onto the sand. It admittedly isn’t much– I was too nervous to run into the Kings, so I skipped dinner tonight. My belly was rumbling in protest when I fell asleep.
When there’s nothing left in me to come up, I pull myself into a sitting position, wiping my mouth off on the backs of my bound hands. Dragging in a few deep breaths, I grapple for some semblance of composure as my thoughts spins out of control.
They filmed me. They made it look like I enjoyed it.
Raf steps closer to me again, kicking the toe of a shoe against my thigh to get my attention. I snap my head up, glaring at him as soon as our gazes meet.
“What are you gonna do with that?” I demand, trying to sound a whole lot more confident than I feel right now. It doesn’t work– my voice barely comes out as more than a hoarse whisper.
The corner of Raf’s mouth kicks up in amusement and he slowly lowers into a squat, putting us at eye level. “What we do with that video depends entirely on you.”
My throat bobs with a harsh swallow. So it’s blackmail.
“You can’t…”
“First things first,” Ford interrupts loudly. I whip my head around to meet his chilling stare as he continues. “You don’t tell a King what he can or can’t do, Ava baby. Obviously we weren’t clear enough about that last night.” He flashes a sinister smile, the shadows clinging to the dark ink crawling up his neck and framing his sharp jawline, making him look like a disembodied ghoul. “Do you understand?”
Tears slide down my cheeks as I nod my head weakly. How long have I been crying?
I flinch when Ford suddenly brandishes a pocketknife, leaning toward me and grabbing hold of my bound wrists. I don’t move, don’t breathe as he slides the blade between my hands, slicing upwards to sever the zip-tie binding them. I let out a loud exhale as it falls away, immediately tucking my hands into my chest and rubbing at the tender skin of my wrists.
“Don’t seem so surprised about the video,” Wes mumbles as he steps into view. For some reason, seeing him hurts the most, the metaphorical knife in my gut twisting. “How do you think we maintain control of this place?” he asks, cocking his head in question, his gray eyes cold and vacant. “Leverage is valuable.”
My mind immediately resumes its racing, piecing together the scraps of information I’ve garnered since I first crossed paths with these boys.
Is this why Richelle hates them?
Do they do this to every girl on campus?
Shit, I think I’m gonna be sick again...
“Is it starting to sink in?” Ford asks, still smiling cruelly as he folds his knife and tucks it away in his pocket.
I drop my gaze to my lap, still rubbing at my sore wrists. “What do you want?”
Raf’s the one to respond. “The question is, what do you want?” he asks, the low, gravelly hum of his voice sending a shiver down my spine. “Do you want this little movie of ours getting out?”
“No,” I whisper, my eyes burning with salty tears. Another slips free, tracking a hot path down my cheek.
“Then you’re going to have to play by our rules, Ava,” Wes says, standing at my feet with his arms folded across his chest.
Desperation claws at my insides, my pulse racing faster as anger and indignation and a colossal sense of injustice take hold.
This isn’t right. This isn’t fair.
I haven’t done anything wrong, and I sure as hell don’t deserve to be hauled out of bed in the middle of the night and threatened with public humiliation.
“What does that even mean?” I ask, my gaze sweeping around to each of their faces as if I’ll somehow find the answers there.
How can I play by their rules if I don’t even know what I did to break them in the first place?
“It means you’re ours , Ava,” Raf snaps impatiently. His lip curls in disgust as he narrows his gaze on me. “Our little slut to do whatever we want with.”
“I wouldn’t touch any of you with a ten-foot pole,” I scoff bitterly.
“We’ll see about that, Ava baby,” Ford drawls, dragging the backs of his knuckles up my bare thigh. The sensation sends another shiver skittering up my spine, goosebumps prickling on my flesh. He waves his phone back and forth tauntingly with his opposite hand, the paused image of me coming undone still frozen on the screen. “Unless you want this getting out, you belong to us now.”
I stare back at him in horror, then look to Raf, to Wes, trying to read between the lines and gauge how serious this situation is. From the somber looks on each of their faces, this isn’t a joke to them, and when I realize that there’s nobody who’s going to save me from these monsters, the terror really starts to set in.
“W-what do you want me to do?” I stammer, my gaze bouncing between each of the boys holding my fate in their big, undeserving hands.
“Well, you could start by sucking my cock.”
I whip my head around to gape at Raf as he rises to stand over me, strands of my hair slapping me in the face before falling limply over my shoulders. “W-what?”
He lifts his chin, his hands dropping to his belt. “On your knees, slut.”
My entire body starts trembling, and I don’t even know why I move to comply.
Fear? Self-preservation?
Shakily, I shift to my knees, putting myself at eye level with Raf’s hands unfastening his belt. They freeze their movement and I jolt my head up to look at his face, our gazes colliding.
“I knew you were a desperate little whore,” Raf mocks, shaking his head. “Just like your mother.”
He re-fastens his belt, stepping back with a callous smile on his lips as my cheeks burn in shame.
Was this all just a cruel joke?
“Get up,” Wes orders gruffly, and I scramble to my feet, brushing the sand off my cotton sleep shorts. Goosebumps pebble up on my arms as a breeze whips past, making ripples in the water of the lake.
Raf gives me a long, assessing once-over, rubbing his thumb back and forth across his upper lip. “You can go.”
“What?”
I’m so confused that I accidentally ask that out loud, wincing as soon as the question leaves my lips.
“If we need something, we’ll let you know,” Wes says coldly, leveling me with an icy glare. Though there’s a glimmer of something in his eyes that makes me wonder if it’s me he hates right now or himself.
“Run, little rabbit,” Ford taunts, and the fog of fear finally clears from my brain enough that I actually have the wherewithal to do what I should have right when Raf told me I was dismissed.
Just like last night, I turn around and run.