Chapter 18
Chapter
Eighteen
No more!
The words screamed through Emma’s head even though all that came out of her mouth was a half-whimper, half-moan as another man in a seemingly endless procession stuck his head between her legs.
After hours of being out there, with man after man using his tongue and his fingers to make her come, she was so oversensitive that it hurt to be touched there. Not that these men cared, the more she begged, the more they laughed and enjoyed it.
Obviously, one of the rules had been that fingers and mouths were all that were allowed to touch her tonight because nobody had tried to stick anything else inside her.
The men ate from the huge table set up just inside the house, and she knew that whatever meal was waiting for her back in the hut wouldn't be anywhere near as luxurious and delicious.
They were drinking, too, getting progressively drunker as the night wore on.
Her buyer made sure he came back every so often, usually forming a crowd as he worked her slowly toward an orgasm, bringing her right to the edge before stopping and letting her fall a little way back down, then working her higher again, repeating the process until she was literally begging him to let her come.
Humiliation and anger swirled inside her at having her body played against her will, and Emma knew part of her would never forgive herself for begging. Orgasms were the last thing she wanted, but her body betrayed her in the worst possible way and she hated it for doing that to her.
Worse was the smug grin her buyer gave her when he finally gave in to her begging and made her come so hard for a moment she forgot where she was and what was being done to her.
Now her body was weak and shaky, and she had no idea how she was going to try to put her plan into action when she was positive she wasn't even going to be able to stand.
Another ball of pleasure ignited low in her belly, and as the man sucked and licked at her, it grew no matter how much she tried to stop it from happening.
When it exploded inside her, Emma did her best to squash it quickly, but still the pleasure was intense, too much after receiving so many orgasms in such a short time.
As the man between her legs stood, holding her gaze as he licked his lips, she prayed this would be over soon. Knowing that tomorrow her buyer was going to force her to choose her own fate for the night made her that much more determined to escape tonight or die trying.
For once, her prayers were answered, and the boy appeared beside her. There was a bulge in his pants, but he hadn't been one of the men to pleasure her tonight, maybe he hadn't been allowed, wasn't yet initiated into whatever the hell you called this sick and twisted group.
Not that she was complaining, one less monster touching her was a blessing for sure.
Without speaking, he undid the cuffs on her knees and wrists, and as she looked down at her legs, she saw she now had matching gashes on her knees and ankles.
Infection was becoming more of a possibility, especially considering she wasn't sure how often she would be allowed a bath.
Emma wouldn't put it past her buyer to only allow her to clean herself when she was going to be the one receiving pleasure, and try to sway her toward what he wanted her to become.
A tug on her leash had her pushing shakily to her feet. As predicted, her weak legs didn't want to hold her weight, but she forced them to, dug deep, and dragged up every teeny bit of strength she had left in her body.
She was making her move tonight.
Thankfully, it was the boy taking her back to her hut.
He might not be drunk, but he was the smallest of her opponents, so getting away from him should be the easiest. Everyone else was drunk, so it helped to further the odds in her favor, and honestly, she didn't even care if this worked at this point. She was choosing death over more nights like the last few she’d endured.
Having already figured out what she was going to do, Emma just waited it out. Between orgasms, she’d had plenty of time to work through options and decide on which one she thought had the best chance of success.
Now she kept her steps uneven, pretending—or not really, she supposed, since it was true—that she was weak and shaky, because she wanted to be able to use that to her advantage.
The boy seemed happy to move at her pace and didn't seem to think anything was out of the ordinary.
Hopefully, he was tired and ready to get rid of her and then get to bed.
When the boy opened the door to her hut, she put her plan into action.
Stumbling as if her legs would no longer hold her up, she grabbed at the door as though using it for support, and then, looking over her shoulder to gauge the timing, slammed it back and into the boy’s face.
He grunted in surprise and pain, and she whirled around and grabbed his hair, slamming his head forward again into the door. That blow seemed to stun him, but she needed him unconscious, so she did it again, and again, and again, until he stopped moving.
Breathing hard, Emma glanced around to see if anyone was watching, but there was no one about, so she grabbed the boy and dragged him into the hut.
She couldn’t do anything about the collar or the cuff around her ankle, but she could take the boy’s clothes, so at least she wasn't running around the Kenyan grasslands stark naked.
It took longer than she would have liked to get him into her cell and then strip off his pants and T-shirt.
They were too big for her, and she had to roll up the legs a bit and the waistband, but having clothing on again after so long made her realize how much she’d always taken something as simple as clothing for granted.
Debating taking his shoes, she decided that, even if they were too big, they’d be better than bare feet, especially since hers were still messed up from the gravel, so she pulled on his socks, then shoved her feet into the boots.
Before leaving, she unhooked the chain attached to her collar and tossed it down on top of the boy.
Then she was out the door.
Even though she hadn't seen a fence, she knew there had to be one to keep the wildlife out. Going down the driveway would probably make it easier, as she could just climb the gate when she got there, but it also provided a higher chance of being spotted. So she was going in the opposite direction and hoping that once her disappearance was discovered, they’d think she had chosen the driveway.
Taking off as fast as she dared without drawing undue attention to herself, Emma left her prison behind and prayed that somehow this would work out.
She had no idea how to find a safe place to call home, no idea if the people around there were in on what her buyer was doing and would simply return her to him.
No idea how to survive out in the wilderness, she had no food or water, and no way to protect herself from the animals, and it could take her hours or days to find help.
But it was better than what she was leaving behind.
As soon as the house and huts disappeared from view, she broke into a dead run. Her body was weak, and she wasn't moving as fast as she wanted to. The more she ran, the more her steps grew unsteady, and her body swayed from side to side.
Not that she was stopping.
At least not of her own free will.
In the end, it was a large body and a strong set of arms closing around her that brought her to a stop.
Emma went wild, kicking and clawing at the man who had grabbed her, determined to do anything she had to in order to get free. Even kill him if it came to it. He was evil, one of them, he deserved to die for what he’d participated in.
“Shh, Emma.”
The use of her name caught her by surprise, and she froze for a second. That second was all it took for her attacker to get a secure hold on her. Lifting her feet off the ground and holding her tight against a rock-hard chest with her arms pinned at her sides.
Helpless.
Again.
“It’s me, blondie, you're okay now, I'm here.”
Nathan. His voice finally registered, along with the nickname, but if he thought his presence was going to comfort or reassure her, then he was as crazy as she believed him to be.
He’d abandoned her, been lying to her all along, and now he’d come all the way to the other side of the world just to rub it in her face.
Turning her head to look over her shoulder, her eyes met his, only this time she didn't find any strength in those soft brown depths. Curling her lips, she snarled at him, “Drop dead.”
August 9th
12:55 A.M.
Well, if he thought she was going to be happy to see him, he was clearly mistaken.
There was pure venom in Emma’s voice, and if looks could kill, her blue eyes would have already speared right through him.
Renewing her attempts to get out of his grip, Nathan struggled to keep a hold on her while not actually hurting her.
When he’d seen a small figure running away from the houses at first, he thought it was someone running because he and the Delta Force Team had been spotted.
Intending to intercept the person and interrogate him, when he’d snuck closer, he’d realized it was his girl.
His girl, who apparently hated his guts.
“I'm not going to hurt you, Emma,” he said, wishing she already understood that. It had occurred to him that she might think he’d been lying to her when he hadn't gotten her out like he’d promised, but deep down, he hadn't considered it a serious possibility. Obviously, he’d been deluding himself about the spark he thought had ignited between them, it was clearly one-sided, and while he’d still get Emma out of there—nothing on earth would make him leave her there even if she hated his guts—he would walk away as soon as she was safe.