Chapter 59
“Want me to kill you, red? Free you from this prison?”
I jerk a nod. The whimpering beg lodged in my throat beneath the fingers cutting off my ability to breathe. Brad rocks his erection against my naked ass as Sam watches from the front, entranced by the way his partner dangles me on the edge of death.
Across the room, Maximus observes. Leaning against the wall, he’s dressed like a crime boss instead of a tourist, channeling every intimidation tactic he knows. Richmond stands dutifully at his side, all black tactical gear adorning his frame, waiting for the kill order.
Shadows dance at the edges of my sight. “Easy, Bradley,” Maximus coos.
Like a well-trained pet, Brad listens, granting me the freedom to inhale.
“I understand why you ran, but you had to know there would be repercussions to your actions, doll. No one makes it out of here freely. Not you. Not your sister.”
My eyes snap open. I dig up every ounce of energy I have left, and use it to lift my head. I whimper, the sound pathetic and grating.
“Should I punish her for your insolence?” Fear floods my system. I shake my head, muttering behind caged lips. “Maybe I already have. Isn’t that right, Richmond?” The lapdog shrugs, neither confirming nor denying.
Brad whispers from behind me, lips brushing the shell of my ear, “I did. I fucked her until she cried, red.” He sucks in a heavy breath, absorbing the memory.
“Oh, how she screamed. Begged me to stop.” He rocks himself against my skin, groaning.
“Then I beat her black and blue. Shoved my dick into her tight little ass until she bled for me. Your sweet sister was next to comatose when I left her. Just like the first time.”
I jerk my shoulders, fighting against the chains tethering me to the same ceiling beam as before, trying to dislodge his taunting words. But he holds tight, hot heavy breaths blowing across my neck.
“The next time you fuck up, doll. I’ll kill her,” Maximus speaks up.
“I’ll make you watch as Richmond carves her up like the most beautiful cut of prime rib before tossing her off the cliff to feed my sharks.
” Maximus sucks his teeth, licking his lips before continuing.
“You’ll be stuck here, in this cell, until your dying breath, knowing your sister would’ve been spared if you had stayed in line.
Now, you’ll never see her again.” He tilts his head to the side, observing me like a scientist waiting for a reaction. “I’ll make sure of it.”
I’m gutted.
Hollowed out.
The heart in my chest extracted.
Its remnants lie splattered across the floor after being crushed beneath Maximus’s fancy dress shoe.
Richmond heaves in a deep breath, fists clenching at his sides, clearly getting high off the depravity Maximus is spewing.
He thirsts for it—the blood. The flowing sight of it calls to him.
My life force is his preferred medium, my body the canvas, and he’s itching for another chance to paint my despair.
“Do you understand?” Maximus asks.
I don’t dare move or make a sound for fear of breaking into a million irreparable pieces.
“Do. You. Understand?” he growls, anger echoing around the cold room.
I jerk a sharp nod, searching my bones for the ire I require to stuff the fear and regret back into the box at the back of my mind.
I never should’ve run.
Sam steps forward, pushing his cargo pants down just enough to pull his cock out. He spits down onto it before pressing it between my legs, gripping my hips.
“I’m sorry,” he whispers, lips brushing the shell of the ear opposite to Brad. He thrusts against me until it hurts. “This is all my fault.”
Yes, it is, and I’d like to say as much. Unfortunately, speaking is a privilege I no longer possess.
“This is my punishment too, you know. Watching Brad have his way with you while I can do nothing but watch, or participate.”
Yeah, seems real fucking tough on you. You cowardly, manipulative piece of shit.
“I’m not even allowed to fuck your sweet pussy.”
Gag. I close my eyes to hide the roll of my eyeballs. I don’t need another grievance held against me.
How long have I been down here? The days blur together when I’m flipping in and out of consciousness between punishments.
The last flickers of my sanity cling to memories of Chelsea, happy and soaking up the sun on the balcony of the ship.
And Ripley… I’ll miss the way he makes me feel something other than despair in a hell such as this.
Brad’s hands cinch tighter than before, ratcheting up the pressure in my head until I want to scream from the sensation. But its muffled sound is trapped behind my stitches.
If I want to have a mouth when I cross to the other side, I have to fight the urge to rip my lips free.
Sam’s fingers grip my freshly washed skin, jagged nails digging into a healing cut at my hip.
Furiously, he fucks the apex of my thighs, his violence ripping into the freshly-formed scab.
Blood slowly carves a new, warm trail down my side, running to pool where my feet sweep across the frigid concrete.
Maximus clears his throat, signalling to his lackeys to ease up. Neither listen, pushing their boundaries until forced to comply.
Sam tests my restraint, my will, to keep my mouth sealed as his middle finger presses into the wound, rooting around between the separated flaps of epidermis—burrowing deeper.
The threads binding my lips pull and ache as I scream inside my throat.
“Samuel,” Maximus directs sternly, “that’s quite enough.”
Finally complicit, Brad slackens his hold on my neck, and I heave in a breath as lights dance in my already-hazy vision.
Sam slips his finger from my flesh. Raising his dripping hand, he extends his tongue. Leisurely, he licks and sucks my blood from his skin, smearing it across his mouth.
“So fucking delectable, Rosie,” he murmurs, crimson staining his teeth. “Sweeter than anything that’s touched my tongue before this.”
My head falls back against Brad’s shoulder, and he chuckles. “Don’t pass out on me now, I’m nowhere near done with you.”
Shivers crash through me, the last few remaining drops of water dripping from my long, matted hair onto my battered body. The sponge bath I was given as a way to prepare my skin for the doctor, was surely just another form of torture as the water was colder than a penguin’s asshole.
The heavy metal lock disengages, the sound resonating through the cell. Hopefully, that’s the doctor they keep telling me got ‘held up’.
Maybe they’ll have mercy and administer a lethal dose instead of just enough to sedate.