Chapter 54
Ivy
Derek’s eyes rake over my bare legs.
One of the boy’s shirts hangs loose over my body, no underwear underneath. Nothing to protect me.
My hands instinctively come up to my belly. He notices.
“Still playing mama, huh?” he laughs bitterly. “You ain’t carrying nothing. Not yet anyway.”
His gaze lingers on the hem brushing my thighs. “Fuck, you look better than I remember,” he murmurs. “Those freaks looked after you, huh? Honestly, I thought you’d die in the first week. But then word came back from scouts that you were shacking up with some hunks in masks.”
Memories flood my mind of Myles’s strong hands on me, Phoenix’s commanding growl and Zane’s gentle eyes.
The thoughts comfort me for a brief moment.
Until Derek steps closer, chuckling darkly as his eyes linger on the shirt.
“I knew you’d be spreading your legs for them.
Anything for a little favouritism, right?
Same little tease you were with me. You know how many nights I jerked off thinking about you chained up in here?
Or crawling around in one of the stalls in the barn like some pathetic little mutt? ”
He barks a cruel laugh. “But you liked me once. Now you’re here dressed like a slut in someone else’s shirt. Like you forgot all those years we spent together.”
He crouches at the edge of the mattress, eyes glittering with dark hunger as his hand trails up my shin.
I flinch. “Don’t.”
He grins wider. “Oh, Ivy. You’re still pretending you got a say in this? You know how this works. You’re my girl now.” His hand slides beneath the shirt—fingertips grazing my inner thigh.
I gasp and flinch away from his touch, but he stands and leans closer to make up for the distance.
“You know they’re not coming for you, right?
” he says casually, like he’s discussing the weather.
“That devil-masked freak, the big guy with those ugly scars? And that twitchy fucker with the skull mask? They’ve probably found a new piece of ass already.
You think those freaks could ever love you like me? ”
His tone softens in mock sympathy, laced in condescension. “They don’t care about you, Ivy. They were just gettin’ their fill while you were givin’ it. They saw how desperate you were, and they used you.”
That can’t be true. I know it’s not!
But my heart cracks open hearing the words. Memories flash through my mind of agreements I made with them, promises whispered in that cell.
“If I make it worth it, you’ll protect me?”
“You want food, shelter… then earn it.”
Oh, God! When they wanted to leave. Were they trying to get rid of me?
Was I deluded? Was it never more than a trade?
Derek’s fingers travel higher, so I clamp my thighs shut but his hand just keeps pressing.
“Get the fuck away from me,” I choke out.
He laughs, low and dirty. “You let them touch you like this, didn’t you? Or maybe you didn’t let them. Maybe they just took what they wanted. Probably passed you around like the camp whore.”
Even though I don’t want to believe it, his words ring true. My chest aches, a painful lump in my throat causing my eyes to well with tears.
I try to twist away but he grabs my ankle and holds it down, his fingers pushing up, under the shirt.
And then I feel it. His fingers sliding along the seam of me. I gasp and jerk back.
He chuckles, following me again, climbing onto the mattress slowly. “No panties? Fuck, you really have been broken in.”
“Stop, Derek. Please,” I cry, tears spilling over as I slap at him.
Derek just catches my wrist with one hand and pins it to my body. His elbow presses into my neck, digging the metal in, while his other hand keeps fighting with my thighs.
“You squirm just like I knew you would,” he whispers. “All bark, no bite. You remember how to moan, Ivy? Or did they fuck the sound out of you?”
He’s too strong and not giving up, I can’t think of anything else to do, so I spit in his face.
Derek pauses.
I feel my stomach drop in anticipation.
But he just wipes it off, collecting it with his fingers and grins. “God, I love a little fight.”
Then his face darkens, and he punches his spit covered fingers between my thighs, piercing through my entrance with painful speed.
A scream tears through my throat as my legs kick, my other hand lashing out. But he blocks it.
Straddling one of my thighs, he attempts to hold me down, breath hot on my neck as his body dwarfs mine.
“Still tight, huh?” he growls against my cheek. Then hums. “Still soft. Thought they would’ve ruined you. Left this pussy gaping like a hallway.”
He thrusts his two fingers roughly, before curling them and pressing his thumb into my clit.
Gasping, I let out a wretched cry—conflicted by the revulsion tangling with a cruel echo of pleasure. But his forearm presses down on my chest to hold me flat against the mattress.
“They thought they could steal you,” he growls, low and filthy. “Those fucking thieves. Think I don’t know what they did to you? Think I don’t see the way you still squirm for it?”
“Get the fuck off me!” I rasp.
“Oh, I will,” he murmurs. “Right after I ruin you for them.”
He pulls his fingers out and starts undoing his belt, the click of that buckle is like a gunshot in my ears.
And I go feral, kicking out as hard as I can. “No!” I scream, thrashing under him, my knee catching his ribs. He swears and tries to shove me down again, but I don’t stop.
I can’t.
Even if they never come for me. I don’t want anyone else.
Screaming louder, I punch harder, claw at anything I can reach. I just need to move, to fight.
“Fucking bitch!” he roars, pinning my arms again, leaning closer to scream in my face. “I’m doing this for you, you ungrateful fucking whore!”
Same lies he told me when he got me locked in the barn last year. Same delusion.
Seeing an opportunity, I sink my teeth right into the meat of his shoulder.
His scream tears the air open as hot blood fills my mouth. So I bite harder, until he’s howling, until he slams his fist into the side of my head and rips himself away, leaving a smear of blood down my chin and his arm.
“Fuck!” He roars, hitting me again, this time, hard enough to send me sprawling to the edge of the bed.
“Fuckin’ slut! How am I gonna hide this?” Derek’s pitch rises with panic as he inspects the oozing wound. “What are the boys gonna think? This makes me look like a bitch.”
A cold wave of dread washes over me. There’s nothing more dangerous than a humiliated man.
While he’s distracted, I try to crawl away—anywhere.
But he grabs my leg, drags me back down the mattress until the chain connected to my collar is taut, and climbs over me.
His fresh wound drips blood onto me as he leans over me again. “I wanted to enjoy this,” he spits. “Wanted to take my time. Make you feel good. But you wanna be feral? I’ll show you fucking feral.”
Shoving my thighs apart, his hands go under the hem of the shirt again.
I scream. Fight. My nails claw at his face, his neck. Anywhere. I buck, thrash, kick. My knee catches his hip, and he swears, backhanding me again.
“Hold still, you stupid fucking bitch!”
He fists my hair, slams my head back against the mattress, chains rattling. “You think you’re something precious ‘cause three masked freaks wanted to fuck you? You’re just meat, Ivy. They used you.”
His hand yanks up the shirt, fingers digging into my thighs painfully. I keep screaming, louder now—rage and fear in equal measure. I scratch his face so hard my nails come back red.
“They’re not coming for you!” he bellows, spitting blood in my face. “You think they actually cared about you? You’re damaged goods. They’d take one look at you now, and spit on you. You were nothing to them!”
Derek’s words gore me like a spear, shredding every hope I had left.
I twist my torso, try to slam my elbow into his throat. But he grabs both my arms and pins them above my head then grinds his hips against me.
Sobbing through my teeth, I feel his hard bulge, revulsion crawling up my throat.
“Stop fucking moving!” he roars.
His chest heaves as his rage crests past control.
He’s not even trying to touch me the way he wanted anymore—he’s trying to crush me. Punish me for escaping. For choosing someone else.
Derek rips my shirt at the collar, shredding my last treasured possession to expose my body. I scream again, throat raw and gurgling blood. My fists keep flying, even as he blocks them, even as he slams his forearm into my collarbone to keep me still.
“You want pain?” he snarls. “Fine.”
His fist slams into my ribs and I choke.
The air leaves my lungs in a sharp, gasping wheeze. I curl, trying to shield my belly. The most precious thing they gave me.
His blows are wild, rage-fuelled and unrestrained, mostly landing on my limbs.
Another blow. Then another. I don’t know which one is a fist, and which is a knee. It’s all a blur of red and ringing and fire in my body.
The smell of blood and the squeak of the mattress are the only things that ground me as I succumb to the pain.
He grabs my hair again, lifting my head just to slam it back down.
“You’re gonna learn your place, Ivy,” he pants, breath hot against my cheek. “You’re not special. You ain’t nobody. Just a hole to fuck, and that’s all you are.”
I can’t fight anymore. My body’s trembling, wet with blood and sweat and spit. My lips are swollen, my limbs too weak to move anymore.
Derek kneels over me, panting like a dog, while I cower beneath him. Wiping blood from his shoulder, he glares at the deep wound. “You need more training,” he mutters. “Benny was too soft on you. I’ll talk to him. We’ll fix you. We’ll fix this.”
He climbs off the bed and backs up, wiping his mouth, breathing hard.
Spitting blood on the floor, he opens the door and walks out, slamming it behind him and locking it. I just lie here, barely breathing.
I’m broken.
But not defeated.
Although maybe it doesn’t matter anyway.
They’re not coming.