21. Penelope #3
Fabric tore at my chest from the blonde, and I screamed, twisting and digging my elbow in the man’s solar plexus who still held me. He cursed, shifting my fighting body. With the angle, I clasped my hands, using my weight to drive my elbow back into his stomach.
Hands pulled at my legs, and I kicked out, catching one’s chest. Before I knew what was happening, lights blinded me from the blond’s hit.
Colors flashed and sound wavered as he tore me from the large guard’s arms. I felt like I was falling, but everything was in slow motion.
Warmth trickled from my nose and the room disappeared, only to come back with a buzz of voices.
“Fuck that bitch. You want to fight. I’m going to give you a reason to.”
“No! Stop!”
I was twisting in his hold, swinging and fighting as the room kept spinning.
I was slammed into the stone wall so hard, I gagged.
Air hitched in my lungs, and I could feel hands all over me.
They were holding up my dress, pulling at my thighs.
I barely got air in before an agonizing pain locked up my entire body.
My eyes went wide, and I felt my nails break against stone.
“Stop! P-Please!”
Although my body was jolting through the force from the man’s thrust, I felt myself retreat and fade through the shock as my words continued to come.
Pain. Yes. So much pain. It was stabbing. Invasive.
And the laughter. They thought my pain was funny? I didn’t understand it, but their cheers and encouragement carried through every thrust.
“Help! Stop!”
“No one is going to help you.”
The blond forced himself deeper causing me to scream and jolt against stone.
Moans sounded. I gagged as I choked through my cries.
From what went from insufferable turned to a stinging relief as he pulled out and jerked me to my knees.
Warmth shot into my hair and across my face.
I could barely process what was happening as he began rubbing his bloody length over my cheek.
I didn’t think as I snapped my teeth in the direction of his cock.
“Bitch! She almost got me.”
More laughter.
The hit knocked me to the floor, but he stood me up so fast, my face smashed against the stone from the vertigo.
“Look at that blood. Ha! I hope it hurts.” Fingers ran up my thigh, only to lift and smear the warmth along my cheek and neck, mixing with the cum.
“I wear you—You wear me.”
“Shut up, Gordon. Move, it’s my turn.”
The words were like an alarm.
I pushed from the wall, fighting against the strength that tried to hold me in place.
“Please! V! Vaughn!”
Force pushed into the middle of my back, and I locked up all over again at the invasive pain.
“Vaughn!” I sobbed, twisting against the hold. “Vaughn!”
“Wait. Daryl. Daryl!”
The thrust continued, but the man behind me turned.
“What?”
“Vaughn. She’s calling out for Vaughn.”
“The man slowed. What?”
“Vaughn!”
I screamed his name again, feeling myself crumble to the ground as the man who’d been inside me scrambled back.
“Surely, it’s not the same one.”
I nearly passed out as hands jerked me up. The big man who’d caught me to begin with searched my face as he held me upright. My knees were so weak, I kept almost collapsing.
“Who’s Vaughn? A guard?”
“I don’t know any guards named Vaughn,” the blond, Gordon, ground out.
“Vaughn!” I sobbed. “Redmond. I want Redmond! Vaughn!”
“The Unavowed. I fucking knew it.” The one with the weathered skin threw his hands up. “He’s here. He’s here, and she knows him. I’m not in this.”
“Screw you, man. You would have fucked her if—”
“You don’t know that, Gordon.”
“Vaughn!”
His name poured from my mouth like a life vest. I knew nothing in my moment but him. He was the energy—the cause of this—and he was the only one I had left in my life. The only one I knew that would keep me safe.
“V-Vaughn!”
The large, dark-skinned man held me against his chest, withdrawing a large knife. The man with the weathered skin brought his out almost just as fast. Both pointed them towards Gordon and the man with pitted skin, Daryl.
“To Redmond’s. Both of you. We’ll clear this up now. If she’s not important, they won’t care if you continue. But if—”
“Vaughn!” Harder, I cried.
Warmth continued to run down my legs, and arms swooped down, scooping me up as he took off at a steady stride. Pain left me jerking and crying hard, and I was on the verge of being sick. The man reached up, hitting the radio at his neck.
“Code black. We have a situation. Keith Nelson requesting The Reeve and Redmond.”
A beep sounded and a low voice went through the man’s earpiece, so low I barely heard it.
“Reeve, here. What sort of situation, Keith? We’re in a situation of our own.”
“A slave. She’s been raped. She’s crying out for Vaughn or Redmond.”
Seconds passed as the sickness churned.
What had I been thinking? That I could escape a place that was locked down just as much as a prison? That I could succeed where probably no one else could?
The slave tried to warn me.
Vaughn tried to warn me.
He’d tried to prepare me… and I hadn’t listened to either of them.