Chapter 41 #2
I struggled harder, jerking my body around, feeling the shackles tear at my skin, trying my best to get away until the world sparked in black spots. In the struggle and fight, I slammed my head back against the wall and the world started to spin. To shake and vibrate.
I blinked hard, shaking my head, which only made it worse. No. I was losing control again. Stop, stop, stop!
“Oh, well that’s a shame,” Malachi hummed, pulling at my legs again until my hips were lined with his. He released my ankles and undid his belt, his button, his zipper.
I let my head roll back, my skin feeling tingly and strange, a wet warmth dripping down my neck.
“If you do ever see him again,” he started, his voice distant, “let him know his father fucked his girl good and hard.”
I felt the second his hardened cock touched my cunt. The second it pushed into me.
I screamed as the pain tore through me. It felt like sandpaper. His hands were bruising where he grabbed my thighs, his grunts and pants exactly like those of the old men in that church.
I fought and fought, feeling more wet warmth dripping down my arms and back. My heart slammed painfully.
Once.
Twice.
A third time.
Everything suddenly went numb. I stopped blinking, my mouth hung open, and I just watched the sweat drip down his fat neck as he continued to fuck me.
I wasn’t sure how long it took him, longer than anyone else, but I didn’t look away. If he was going to rape me, he would see my face while he did it. He would remember that this was what drove Azrael over the edge. This was the beginning of their precious reckoning.
~~~
I wasn’t sure how long I sat there, but I was conscious for all of it.
Malachi had left, but nobody had come back in, and I was sure it was because Lady Elise found out what he had done.
He might be her boss, but I was the precious merchandise which she was in charge of.
I could still feel it. The adrenaline and the cum dripping out of me. I could feel all of it.
Every ounce of pain they had caused.
Every memory my mind had tried to protect me from.
Every moment I had been in this place.
I felt it all.
I let my head fall back against the wall, uncaring of the pain it caused against the open wound. It fell to one side, and I stared at my hand, bloodied and raw. I wondered how long it would take to recover…
Something silver caught the corner of my eye, and I straightened finding the pick still laying on the ground. Malachi had tossed it away, but not far enough. I could reach it if I tried hard enough, I was sure.
My heart started racing again as I wasted no time in twisting my body around, trying to grab hold of the chains for support. I stretched my leg out, whimpering at the shoots of pain as I reached for it. My big toe touched it, my heart leaping into my throat, but it only rolled a little.
I glanced at the door before turning back to the pick, reaching for it again. I felt the moment my toe hit it and I immediately held my breath as I carefully inched it towards me. I got it just close enough to be able to reach it once I got my hand out.
Collapsing back against the wall, I panted, trying to catch my breath. I wasn’t in as great of shape as I had been months ago, but I wasn’t too weak either. I could handle this, I was sure of it.
I turned my attention to my left hand, my heart pounding so hard, I could feel it in my teeth.
This was it. I finally had a real weapon and Azrael was coming.
If I died trying to get out of here, he would still find me, I was sure, but I couldn’t stay here.
I’d rather die than let Malachi do that again.
I’d rather die than let any of the clients figure out that they could force me to remember it all just by giving me adrenaline.
I wouldn’t allow it.
I finally had a real weapon.
Focus. Havoc taught me how to do this. How to get out of handcuffs. It was easy. It would hurt like hell, but what didn’t at this point?
I carefully folded my thumb under my fingers, squeezing down on it tightly, feeling the joint at the base of my thumb groan a little.
Okay, just breathe.
One.
Two.
I jerked my hand towards my body with all the strength I could muster up while holding onto my thumb tightly, using my fingers to pull it one direction while pulling it through the shackle.
I grit my teeth together painfully, tears sliding down my cheek, the pain slow and immense as I pulled and pulled and pull—
I felt the pop, the pain sharp, and immediately felt my arm fall to my side.
My eyes widened as I lifted my hand in front of me, my shoulder screaming in pain. I would certainly have scars from that shackle, deep scars, but no permanent damage.
I rolled my shoulder, stretching my arm this way and that, trying to regain full feeling before finally reaching for the pick. I immediately crawled over to the other shackle, using the end of the pick to force the lock open.
Once my other hand was free, I popped my thumb back into socket, testing it out. Tender, but I could push through it.
Next was the muzzle. I reached up, following the straps to the back of my head, only to find a padlock there.
An ounce of panic slammed through me, but I quickly swallowed it down. No. I would get it off. Just not yet. I could handle it. I would handle it.
I laughed, giddy for the first time in months. “Tick tock goes the clock, the Queen is finally free. Tick tock goes the clock, they’ll all finally see.”
I used the wall to shove myself to a stand, my legs shaking and weak, my hair hanging in strands all around my face, my ribs showing through my skin. I was a little worse for wear, but it wouldn’t stop me.
I tested my legs, forcing them to stay under me as I took a few steps away from the wall.
I stretched my neck, my shoulders, my arms, my hips, and finally my legs.
Everything was stiff, but I knew stiff. Azrael had made sure it was part of my training.
He locked me up, forced me to sit for days, chained me to the ground, trained me for situations like this.
Captors didn’t care for letting people walk around, so I always had to be prepared.
My eyes found the door. The best way to do this was to wait. Kat would be back at any moment. If I could kill him quietly, then it would give me enough time to steal his shirt and prepare for the next person to come in, probably Eckers or Mack.
Mack would be the best option. If I could take care of him and get his hand, then I could head straight for the door.
I jumped from one foot to the other, testing my strength again as I headed for one side of the closed metal door.
A little shaky, but I could adapt. Foot work was absolutely important, but there were plenty of tactics I could use that more so involved my hands.
Although my hands were shaking a little too.
I flipped the pick around in my hand, watching as my fingers missed a step.
Okay, it was fine. The door was only ten feet away from the trap door.
I had no idea what time it was, but usually, the other men didn’t show up until about halfway through morning service, and if morning service was already in, that would also be helpful.
There was a sweet spot in there. I hoped beyond hope that that’s what time it was.
I leaned back against the wall and stared intently at the blood stained spot I had just been lying as I pictured Azrael’s sharp smile and glowing, ocean eyes.
He was humming through his teeth, his eyes as bright as the moon.
“They let the snake into the garden, darling sinning doll. Show them what that snake turned you into. No mercy. No hesitation. No forgiveness.”
I tightened my hand around the pick. No mercy.
No hesitation. No forgiveness. I was not their doll.
I was not theirs to use. I was not a weak little girl, and Malachi made a grave mistake underestimating us.
I just needed to prove it, but not today.
If he was still here, I had to leave him. He wasn’t my revenge to take.
I heard the trapdoor open and steeled my spine, my heart finally slowing.
Inhale.
Exhale.
Inhale.
Exhale.
Inhale—
The door opened and Kat immediately stopped. “What the fu—”
I lunged, his hand reaching for his gun. I immediately grabbed his left hand, spun around, forcing his arm back behind him.
He pulled out his gun, but I had already lifted the pick and brought it down at the base of his neck.
The pick slid through skin and straight to the bone with ease.
He started to cry out but I was too fast. I jerked the pick to one side and yanked it out, shoving him forward.
He collapsed to the ground, his head hitting the concrete with a sickening crack, his gun sliding across the floor several feet away.
The thrill washed over me as blood began to soak into the collar of his shirt. He didn’t move, but he was panting, grunting. I knew he was trying his best to roll over, to defend himself, but the thing was he would never move again.
I shut the door behind me, locking us both in the room so they wouldn’t hear any other scream.
“What the fuck,” he panted as I walked slowly around him. “I can’t move. I can’t move,” he screamed.
I crouched down on his left side and shoved him onto his back, his legs and arms getting twisted around at strange angles. When he settled, tears streaming down his face, I picked up his right hand, lifted it, and let it fall.
Completely paralyzed.
I smiled.
“What the fuck did you do to me?” he demanded.
I started searching his pockets, finding only a smashed cigarette pack and a lighter.