40. Grace
40
Grace
T hrobbing pulsated throughout my body, and sharp and jagged pain ripped across my brain. My swollen face thrummed, each pulse force-feeding my nerves with the relentless ache.
Stinging between my legs overwhelmed my battered body, a stark reminder of the hell I once again lived.
I drew in a breath of stale air, the room enveloped in darkness save for a slender beam of light piercing through the crack at the bottom of the steel door—much like angels reaching toward me.
God has forsaken me.
I rolled my abused body to the side, my arm flopping out beside me.
The door swung open, the fresh breeze snaking across my naked breasts.
Black boots stepped in, the toe crunching my shaking fingers.
" Ahh ." I tugged, his weight holding me in place.
"You haven't been gone very long, Grace." Andrés bent over, his breath tainted with tequila and chili-coated candy. "Get up."
I bit my tongue, holding back the scream lodged in my throat as I twisted my hips and knelt before him, my fingers stuck between his boot and the floor, my head bowed.
The bruising across my back stretched, and my split cheek wept with infection.
"That's better." He lifted his foot, and my hand jerked back as though it were a rubber band stretched to its limit and tucked it under my body.
"He's made you weak." Ire bled through his words. "How predictable."
I sneered, then wiped it from my face before he saw it.
Dust stuck in my nose and gave off a musty scent, overriding his hot breath .
"Did he touch you?" He snickered through clenched lips. "Of course he did." He tugged my head up by my hair, my wound agonizing. "Who can resist you? You're much more beautiful than her."
Her?
"Where did he touch you?" Andrés dropped my hair, his fingers trailing down my bruised back from his 'welcome home' party, and dipped between my butt cheeks, his finger probing my dark hole. "Here?"
His finger dipped in, and I lurched forward, my teeth digging in tight against my lips. The need to scream ate at me as my flesh burned, copper spread across my tongue.
"No. You're much too tight. Maybe…" He lowered his hand and plunged two fingers deep into my core. "Here."
My back bowed, the sting branching out in hateful waves as his fingers moved inside me, my vision darkening.
"That must be it." His belt buckle jingled. "I'm sorry I wasn't here when you arrived." He moved around and settled behind me. "But it seems my men made you feel welcomed."
I closed my eyes as he withdrew his fingers, and I took a deep breath in through my nose. My body braced for the inevitable surge of his body in mine, his hips rocking, and his whining grunts above me.
Wet fingers brushed against my chin. "Taste your need for me." They slipped between my clenched lip and probed my teeth, his fingers sliding between my cheek. "Open your mouth, Grace."
My jaw unlocked, and his fingers touched my tongue. A salty tang burst across my mouth, my gag reflex firing as he shoved them deep into my throat.
"There we go." His fingers pulled from my mouth as he ravaged my body like sandpaper against soft flesh. "He's ruined you in such a short period of time."
A dense fog draped over my senses, casting darkness over my thoughts. The muscles in my face slackened, and my nerves dulled until the only tangible remnant of my existence was the rhythmic rocking of my body.
He slapped my ass with a callous crash, his cum warming my thighs.
I spit my bitter taste on the floor and closed my eyes, squeezing them tight. When I opened them, he knelt beside my head, his pants pulled tight, my breaths slow and useless, time slipping through my fingertips.
"Welcome home, Grace." His voice warbled as though I sat underwater. "I have a gift for you."
My ears rang out.
I pinched my eyes closed again and fell to my side, liquid dribbling down my center.
"Take a look." His fingers probed through my hair, snagging and clenching.
"No," I said through clenched teeth.
He jerked my head upward, my neck smarting as his other nestled under my chin, squeezing my throat. "This is the best part."
Duarte and Rachel hobbled through the door, their shoulders hunched, their gazes cast downwards as we'd been taught.
He's alive?
Miguel never mentioned Duarte.
Rachel…
The space between my brows creased, and a tear slipped down my cheek.
"I saved them just for you." Andrés squeezed my throat, pinching off my windpipe, my breaths wheezing. "I wanted you to see your consequences firsthand. You know? Teach you a lesson you'll never forget."
"Let them—"
His fingers tightened. "What was that? I couldn't hear you. I thought I heard you speak out of turn, but that couldn't be…my little one obeys me." He released his hold on my hair and pet me like a dog. "Doesn't she?"
I sneered, his front to my back.
He shook me, his fist clenching against my scalp. "Doesn't she?"
"Yes." My hushed words reached my ears as Miguel stepped into the room, his eyes rounded and heavy, a handgun tight in his palm.
"Good girl."
No.
No.
Andrés shoved me to the ground as Miguel passed him the weapon.
"I'm sorry. Andrés. Please." I crawled on my hands and knees. My lips pressed against his boots just how he liked it. "It was me. Don't blame them."
"Sit up, Grace."
Every muscle in my body tensed, my legs quivering, my hands pressed together in prayer—prayer to a God who'd given me a taste of heaven only to rip it from my grasp.
"I want you to see why you should never try to leave me again."
My cheeks trembled as I fought the ache .
Rachel cried, her head bowed, her shoulders shaking.
"It's okay, baby. Don't cry—"
Bang .
I screamed, my entire body startling into mid-air.
Bang .
I sprang to my feet, fists swinging. "You bastard."
Two shadows materialized behind me, their vice-like grips yanking me backward by my arms.
Andrés snarled, his hand sailing through the air. "You dare to hit me." Spittle sprayed from his clenched teeth, the back of his hand connecting with a resounding crack against my cheek.
The bite of copper exploded in my mouth.
His hands rained down on me, a relentless storm of blows assaulting my body. Each punch found its mark – my stomach, ribs, and face.
The room spun in a spiraled dance, my moans a macabre symphony. My legs gave out, and I collapsed to the floor, the men's hold slipping from my arms.
Andrés huffed above me, his face red, his head shaking with rage. "They were always going to die." He pointed at me as he bent over. "No one leaves me without my say so. Not even you."
He loomed over me, forcing my gaze towards the lifeless captives slumped against the wall. "Look at them. This is your doing, Grace. You could've stopped this."
Little Rachel's blood dripped down the wall, staining her sandy-colored hair. Duarte's corpse shifted, and his shattered head made a wet plop against the floor.
"Will you ever leave me again, Grace?"
My gaze shifted to Miguel, who winced before concealing the pistol back in his trousers. I shook my head, tears streaming down my cheeks, my lip swollen and cut. "No, sir."
"No, you won't."
Andrés straightened, abandoning me naked and vulnerable on the cold floor, the door closing with a disheartening finality behind them all.
The deadbolt turned with a sinister click, saturating the air with a metallic stench. He'd left me sealed in the decaying room with the haunting echoes of horrors I could never undo, my body beaten and used.
And it was all my fault.