Chapter 17
It’s dark, darker than it’s ever been and I’m not sure when I’ll ever see the light of day again.
I feel like these four walls are closing on me every time I take a breath, attempting to crush me under their weight.
I’ve been thrown out of one prison and into another, and at every stop, pieces of me have been left behind.
I’m not really sure what happened after Ricky’s abuse, I think I blacked out from the pain and found myself in an underground bunker of sorts underneath the mill.
There’s no sounds except my bated breaths.
I can’t even hear the cries of the other women anymore, and for some reason my brain can’t decide if that’s a good thing or not.
They made me feel less alone in this hell hole, but now I’m left with my own lingering thoughts that can be absolutely deafening.
A cracked plate sits in front of me on the floor, pieces of dry stale bread sit in the middle with the odd fly buzzing around it.
The annoying insect is probably just as hungry as I am, but I can’t bring myself to eat it.
Wracking my brain, I can’t even remember the last time I ate anything but if I’m going off the groans my stomach keeps creating, I’d say it was a while ago.
I’m starving, practically wasting away and I’m so tired, so very tired.
Resting my head against the brick wall, I manage to tuck my legs into my chest and wrap my arms around myself, wincing at the pain that radiates through my insides from the hot speculum. I rest my heavy eyelids, just for a moment.
“You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever laid eyes on, mama, and I thank whatever higher being there is, for bringing me to you.”
Dean’s forest green eyes burn right into the depths of my soul and I swear I can feel it deep in my bones, the way he looks at me with so much awe, takes my breath away every single time.
His large hands cover my own as he pulls me into his lap, the sprawling fields of wild flowers surround us like a colourful blanket, bees and butterflies flitting between flowerheads before venturing off on their travels.
It’s beautiful, but not nearly as beautiful as the man who’s looking up at me right now.
The way his golden skin shines in the sunlight, accentuating his strong brows and sharp jaw line that’s covered perfectly in dark hair.
Releasing my hands from his, I place them both on the sides of his face, feeling the coarse beard hair against my skin, sending tingles down my spine.
His rough hands land softly on my bare thighs before making their way upwards, lifting the mint green sundress up as he goes and I can’t stop the sharp inhale of breath as he skates his hands over my tingling skin.
“I love the colour green.”
“Oh yeah? Why’s that?” I ask, tipping my head to the side.
“Because you look good in it, everything about you is my favourite thing.” He says with that rich baritone that has me melting in his arms.
“You’re such a flirt, Mr Sinclair.”
“Only for you. Always for you.”
Dean’s plump lips turn up into a sinful smirk and I bring his face to mine to plant a soft kiss onto his mouth.
It only stays gentle for a moment before he pushes his tongue between my lips, caressing my own with his and just through the touch alone, I can feel every ounce of love he has for me.
How it slips into my bloodstream, filling me with euphoria.
I moan against his mouth and a deep groan vibrates through his chest as I grind against him, feeling him harden underneath me, his hands gripping onto my thighs.
Sure enough he’ll leave bruises behind but they’re exactly the bruises I want from him, the ones where he’s grabbed me so tightly from pleasure, the ones where he can’t get enough of me.
The kiss becomes almost animalistic and I break away to take a breath, my chest heaving as Dean begins to leave kisses down the expanse of my neck.
“I want you, baby.” He murmurs across my skin.
“Right.”
Kiss.
“Here.”
Kiss.
“Right.
Kiss.
“Now.”
“Then take me.” I plead. “Claim me in every way.”
Dean wastes no time in laying me down onto the grass and releasing his heavy cock, the tip glistening with pre cum that has my mouth watering at the sight of him. A god amongst men. We completely skip the foreplay, I don’t need it, I’m needy and desperate for him that I can’t wait any longer.
“You ready for me, pretty girl?” He taunts, stroking the tip of his cock over my sensitive clit.
“Yes! Yes, please.”
His glorious smile blinds me as he pushes his cock inside of me, stretching me so perfectly, filling me to the brim and I let out a low moan, my hands finding purchase in the soft blades of grass.
“Fuck, you’re so fucking tight baby. This glistening cunt was made for me, wasn’t it?”
I try to answer him but I can’t ignore the pleasure that’s coursing through my veins with every stroke of his hard cock against my inner walls.
“Answer me, mama, was this pretty pussy made for me?” He grunts out with every shove of his cock and I moan out loudly in the middle of the field. “Yes! Fuck yes it is.”
“Atta girl. I want you to come for me, like the good girl you are.”
Holy fuck. His words seem to flick an internal switch somewhere deep within me, mixed with the delicious feel of him inside me has me ready to explode into a thousand, glittery pieces.
Dean keeps one arm bracketed at the side of my head, the other looping under my thigh to push it towards my chest. The change in angle has my eyes rolling to the back of my head and my nails scraping against the cold soil.
I can’t even begin to form a coherent sentence, instead I moan and groan as the tip of his cock hits my most sensitive spot.
“I.. oh, I..”
Dean pushes my leg even further towards my chest and runs his lips across my jaw towards my ear, keeping the pounding rhythm going. “Use your words, pretty girl. Let me fucking hear you.”
“I’m coming!”
“That’s it, come for me. Come, so fucking hard for me baby.”
Glitter explodes behind my eyelids and I swear I’m floating into the clouds. My body feels weightless, like I’m having an outer body experience. Colours around me seem brighter, more vivid and the sweet smell of the flowers is much more pungent now.
It takes me a moment to come back down to the earth and the moment I do, I lift my hand to pull Dean towards me but.. he’s not there?
“Dean?”
“Where are you?” I whimper.
Confusion hits me like a freight train as I sit up and spin around on the grass, searching my surroundings for him but coming up empty, finding nothing but open space and dying flowers, their colours no longer bright, now a dull gray and lifeless.
“Don’t.. don’t leave me.” I whimper as tears begin to fall down my face. “Please find me.”
“Please.. come,” I mumble in my half awake state, “come back.” The tears that dampened my face in the dream have made their way into my waking state, droplets trailing like rain down my filth ridden cheeks.
What a cruel, cruel joke my brain has played on me.
Showing me something that I fear I no longer have, taunting me with the things I’m desperate for.
I can still feel the ghost of Dean’s touch across my skin and I’m trying so fucking hard not to break apart but I’m exhausted.
Burnt out and wasting away into nothing until I become part of these cold, damp walls.
My brain feels like it’s going to explode, images of Emily’s burning corpse sit dead centre in my mind alongside the betrayal of my best friend.
How could she do this to me? I.. I don’t understand, nothing makes sense.
I thought we were friends, true friends, but I know that that was never the case, clearly.
I was so fucking blind to Ricky and Ellie’s lies, instead choosing to bask in the love they showed me, but it was never really like that was it?
I was just a pawn in their wicked game, a useless piece on the chessboard of their lives.
Stupid is what I was, stupid and blissfully ignorant and I’ve lost everything because of that.
It’s strange isn’t it? How the victim of a crime will blame themselves for the actions of others.
Tearing themselves down until they’re left naked for everyone to see, constantly questioning what they did wrong?
How could they make things better? What could they change about themselves to make others happy and to just stop.
. hurting them? I just wanted it to stop, and now I feel like it’s never going to end.
The cold silence of the room breaks when heavy footsteps begin to ascend towards the door, fear quickly spikes in my bloodstream and I shove myself further into the corner of the dark room, shrouding myself in the shadows, hoping that they’ll protect me from whatever is going to come through that door.
Metal screeches against metal as the large lock on the door begins to slide open, then a slither of light barges its way into the room, momentarily blinding me that I have to lift my weak arms to cover my eyes.
From my limited vision, I can see a large shadow take up the space of the door frame and just from the size alone, I know it’s Nico.
I’d ask him what he’s doing here but then I remember that I bit his tongue off.
A small moment of satisfaction washes over me, knowing that I’ve stolen his voice, practically ripped it away from him.
I wonder what else I could do to him?
The thought scrambles my mind but I decide to let it pass, for now.
Keeping my back to the wall, I lower my hands now that I’m somewhat used to the intrusion of light and watch Nico step into the room, followed by my husband and..
What is that?
Is that?
“Ellie?” I ask no one in particular as bile rises up my throat. “What have you done to her?”
Ricky pushes a wheelchair into the room with my traitorous best friend’s mummified corpse in the leather seat.