Chapter 33 Dove #2
My breath came in quick gasps, each one harder than the last. The walls felt like they were closing in, suffocating me.
I could feel the wetness on my cheeks, the tears I couldn’t stop from falling.
Every part of me screamed to escape, but my body was frozen in terror, every muscle locked in place by the sheer weight of Bentley’s presence.
Bentley chuckled darkly, his voice low and slow.
“You will beg. You’ll beg me to end this.
Beg me to stop.” He stepped back, turning away from me for a moment, and I instinctively braced myself, but then he was back, grabbing me roughly by the hair, yanking my head back until I could barely breathe.
His fingers dug into my scalp, and his voice came out in a low, mocking tone.
“But don’t worry, Dove. When I’m done with you…
I’ll let you go. I’ll let you die. But it will be slow.
And by the time you finally stop begging, you’ll beg for the end. ”
I was trembling so violently, the world around me blurred in a haze of fear and dread. Every inch of me screamed for release, but Bentley was right. There was nowhere to run, nowhere to hide. I was his. And he wasn’t going to stop until he broke me completely.
Bentley’s dark laugh echoed in my ears, filling the room with an oppressive sense of doom. “Don’t worry, Dove,” he whispered, his voice like ice. “I’m going to make sure you remember this moment for the rest of your life. Because you can’t escape me. You never could. And you never will.”
I closed my eyes, willing myself to disappear, to slip away from the horror. But Bentley’s cruel voice kept echoing in my mind, dragging me back into the nightmare, pulling me deeper into the hell he had prepared for me.
Bentley’s fingers tightened in my hair, jerking my head back further, the pain radiating through my skull.
My breath came in ragged gasps, each one sharper than the last. I could feel the cold of the room settling deeper into my bones, the chill now seeping into my soul, numbing me, paralyzing me.
Every inch of my body screamed for freedom, but the ropes kept me firmly tethered, my wrists raw and aching from the struggle.
I could taste the metallic tang of fear in my mouth, each heartbeat pounding louder in my ears, drowning out everything else.
Bentley released my hair abruptly, letting my head fall forward with a painful thud.
He paced in front of me, his boots dragging against the floor, his laughter filling the silence like a haunting melody.
Every step he took felt like a drumbeat, slowly counting down the time until I would break, until I would surrender to the terror he was weaving around me.
“You think you’re strong, don’t you?” His voice was soft now, like he was speaking to a child. “You think you can handle it, that you’ll find some way out. But you won’t. You’re not strong enough for this. No one ever is.”
He knelt in front of me, his face inches from mine, and for the first time, I saw something other than hatred in his eyes.
There was something darker, something that made my stomach twist with dread—a predatory glint, a sick amusement.
His gaze lingered on my lips, his eyes flicking back to my terrified eyes with twisted satisfaction.
“I gave you a gift, Dove. A gift you’ll never forget,” he whispered, his words slithering in the silence between them.
“I gave you a reason to feel again. To truly understand what it means to be broken. You’ve been living in a dream, pretending you’re safe.
But this… this is real. You’re awake now. ”
I could barely keep my eyes open as my head hung low, my chest heaving with each tortured breath.
The tears had long since stopped, my eyes dry and bloodshot, but the emptiness in my heart felt endless.
I couldn’t fight him. Not anymore. I had tried—God, had I tried—but I was too weak, too small against the monster he had become.
I had thought, maybe hoped, that if I could escape the past, if I could outrun the darkness, I could find peace.
But Bentley was the embodiment of my worst fears, and now there was no escaping him.
Bentley’s hand brushed against my cheek, cold and smooth like a snake, as his thumb traced the outline of my jaw. His touch sent a shiver down my spine, not from any tenderness, but from the sheer malice behind it.
“I’m not going to kill you yet, Dove,” he said, his voice low and coaxing, like he was offering me a gift. “Not yet. But I’m going to make you wish you were dead. I’m going to make you wish for the sweet release of it all.”
He paused, as if savoring my reaction. The air was thick with the weight of his words, suffocating me as the tension stretched between us. He leaned closer, his breath hot against my skin, and for a moment, everything stood still.
“I’ve waited a long time for this, Dove. And I’m not letting you go. Not ever.”
His words hung in the air like a death sentence, the promise of torment and suffering. His hand trailed down my neck, his touch becoming colder, more deliberate, as he continued to violate the last remnants of my peace.
Bentley slowly stood up and walked behind me, each footstep heavy and purposeful. I couldn’t bring myself to move, my body frozen, the weight of his presence suffocating me. The room felt smaller, the shadows closing in tighter, until the walls seemed to press in on me from every side.
“Don’t worry, Dove,” Bentley’s voice came from behind me, low and steady. “You’ll come to understand. Pain changes people. It makes them stronger… or it destroys them. But either way, it’ll make you mine.”
My mind was racing, the remnants of my thoughts drowning in the sea of terror that Bentley had built around me.
I didn’t know what to do anymore. I didn’t know how much longer I could endure the cruelty, the anguish.
My whole world had been shattered the moment Bentley had stepped into my life, and now it felt as if the last shred of my humanity was slipping through my fingers.
I thought of Ashton—of the moments we shared, of the way he had made me feel alive, loved, cared for.
I thought of the small moments of peace I had once found in his presence, the warmth of his touch, the way he had made me feel like I wasn’t broken, like I wasn’t unworthy.
I had been so close to escaping. But now…
The sound of Bentley’s laughter cut through the silence, like a knife twisting in my chest. It was cruel, unrelenting, and he knew.
He knew that I was slipping, that he was breaking me.
I wanted to scream, to fight, but I was too weak, too broken.
I felt nothing but coldness now, and the crushing weight of inevitability.
“You’re mine, Dove,” Bentley said again, his voice a whisper in my ear, “and I’m never letting you go.”
I didn’t respond. I couldn’t. All I could do was close my eyes and pray that somehow, someone—anyone—would come for me before I was lost in the darkness forever.