Stolen Innocence (Becoming Elena #1)

by Melody Anne

  Mary didn’t know whether to believe her or not. Was this all part of the game to these twisted people? Was Patty a plant meant to comfort her?

  Did it even matter? Mary didn’t want to be alone right now. Even if Patty wasn’t who she said she was, Mary still didn’t want to be alone. The darkness, the fear, was all too much when she had only herself for company.

  “I’ll be good,” Mary said, not sure who she was saying it to.

  “Just don’t give in so quickly that they know you’re faking it. I tried that . . .” She shuddered as she held up her arm and showed the scar running down it.

  “What happened?” Mary gasped.

  “It doesn’t matter. Just don’t let them know you’re trying to fool them. It won’t go well for you.”

  Maybe Mary didn’t want to know. The girl turned away from her and faced the wall, holding her thin blanket over her head as she began humming. Mary lay there and tried to figure out the tune the girl was singing, but she couldn’t.

  When the noise stopped and the girl’s breathing evened out, Mary began to count sheep. She didn’t know when they were coming for her, but it did her no good to try to stay awake. At least in slumber she could forget for a short time that her life would never be the same again.

  Chapter Seven

  A black hood was thrown over her head while men yelled. Mary swung her arms as she tried to fight off her attackers, but it didn’t matter. There were commands issued: stand up, face front, stop moving. Names were called, all while she was violently thrust forward.

  Her knees trembled as her shoulder hit a wall, and then she tripped over a ledge of some sort. She couldn’t see. Reaching out her arms, she tried to feel her way, but even that was taken from her when her hands were roughly jerked behind her back and secured with what felt like coarse rope.

  “This way,” a man growled as he yanked on her arm so hard, it felt as if her arm was going to be ripped from her shoulder socket.

  She’d been left alone for two days and nights. Patty hadn’t returned in that time, and all sorts of horrible things had flashed through her mind. The waiting was almost worse than the torture they were currently putting her through.

  The hood was still secured over her head, the band almost too tight on her neck, when her clothing was ripped from her body. The cool air touched her skin, making her shiver as she waited for the worst.

  When cool water began pouring over her head, she screamed. With the hood over her face, she felt like she was drowning. Shaking her head, she struggled against the binds at her back while trying to kick out, trying to get away.

  More laughter accompanied her struggles as hands moved across her body, and the smell of soap hung in the air. When rough hands spread her legs, and every inch of her was scrubbed, she stopped fighting, pain shooting up in her stomach from their menacing touch.

  Hanging her head forward, she tried to take shallow breaths, but even doing that, some of the moisture from the overhead water spray got into her mouth, making her still feel as if she were drowning.

  Finally, the hood was ripped off as the water cascaded down her head before hands tugged on her thick strands, lathering them up.

  There were four men surrounding her, shirtless as they took turns scrubbing her body and head and began shaving every inch of hair from her. She stood trembling, the men keeping her still as they talked amongst themselves as if she were nothing more than a statue.

  “Damn, this one is my favorite I think,” one of the men said as his hand moved down the front of her body before scrubbing her chest almost raw.

  “I know. It’s been a couple years since we’ve had a new one. I was wondering if the old man was losing interest,” another man said with a chuckle.

  “I’m damn glad he isn’t,” the third man called out as he began rinsing her hair.

  “At least we get the leftovers. This one might just be worth the wait.”

  “Don’t forget we get to play with her for quite a while first.”

  “Yeah, but only so much,” one of the men said with a frown.

  “Does he know she’s here yet?” the quiet one asked as he stood directly in front of her, his face only inches from her own.

  “Yeah, he does,” another said.

  “Too bad,” the man standing in front of her said as he lifted a hand and cupped the back of her neck, leaning a bit closer so his lips were nearly touching hers.

  Mary gagged at the thought of what they were going to do to her.

  “I think she’s a virgin. Maybe the boss would never know,” the man said before his lips ran across hers.

  “He always knows. Remember what happened to Joe when he decided to test that theory,” the man behind her said, and the man in front of her released her lips and stepped back.

  “Yeah. She’s not worth that,” the man said. “Almost, but not quite.”

  Looking into her eyes while he stood back, the man began undoing his pants as the guy behind her finished washing her head and gripped her arms, holding her in place.

  She whimpered when the man in front of her pulled out his member and began stroking it. The other men laughed. She turned her head, and a tear slipped out as she closed her eyes.

  “You need to watch this, little girl, see what’s coming for you,” the man behind her whispered before his tongue traced her ear and he pressed himself against her naked backside.

  The other two men simply leaned against the wall and watched the scene play out.

  “Open your eyes,” the guy facing her demanded. She shook her head.

  The man behind her reached a hand up to her neck and squeezed hard, making her eyes fly open as she gasped.

  “Keep them open or this is going to get a lot worse for you,” the man behind growled.

  Tears streaming down her cheeks, she watched as the man in front of her stroked himself while reaching up and gripping her between the legs, the pressure sending pain into her stomach again.

  “Damn, this would be better inside her,” the man groaned as he continued stroking himself, faster and faster while his fingers nearly rubbed her skin raw.

  “The boss says we can do anything but that,” the man behind her said while tugging against her bound hands and continuing to lick on her ear before moving to bite her neck.

  The tears stopped as she tried to take herself to another place, tried to picture being back at home where all she’d had to worry about was getting her homework done.

  The man in front threw his head back as his fingers clamped hard on her core, making her scream out in pain. After what seemed like forever, he shook as he relieved himself on the shower floor.

  It was quiet for a few seconds, then he pulled up his wet shorts and smiled while looking at the men against the wall.

  “Who’s next?”

  He took the place of the man behind her as the torture continued while all four men relieved themselves, groping her, making her skin raw, making her bleed as they scratched and bit at her.

  When it was over, they finished cleaning her before taking her back to the room, naked, and tossing her inside.

  She fell to her knees on the floor but didn’t feel any pain. She stayed right there, trembling as tear after tear washed down her face.

  The other girl was right. This was hell. Mary just didn’t understand what she’d done so wrong in her life that she’d been thrust into the deepest pit of the abyss.

  Chapter Eight

  The sound of the whip cutting through the air was the only warning before pain singed across Mary’s back. After only a week, she was learning to suppress the cries wanting to escape her lips.

  The more she cried out, the more they liked it. And the more pleasure they took in hurting her, the more intense the pain became.

  Each day was something new. No one had spoken to her in days. They spoke around her, or at her, but no one spoke to her. She wasn’t allowed to speak. If she spoke, something sharp would be jabbed into her mouth, leaving her tongue raw and her l
ips bleeding.

  She’d learned quickly to keep quiet. Often, tears would fall, but that would be the only emotion showing on her motionless body. It had taken days for her not to jump at the crack of the whip, a swinging board, or raging fists.

  Her body was bruised and raw. Her mind was blank. She tried desperately each and every time they pulled her from her room, to go to another place, but it wasn’t so easy to do when her entire aching body was the only thing she could focus on.

  Escape.

  That was the one word that flashed through her brain most often. If she ever gave up hope of escaping, she would give up completely. It was what she wanted to do, what she needed to do. She wanted so badly to get away from these people, from this hell she was barely surviving.

  They fed her¸ but it wasn’t much. She was given a couple pieces of bread a day, sometimes with meat in it, sometimes just dry. She was lucky when she had juice to drink. That was when her body wouldn’t stay upright no matter how many ties were on her. Most of the time it was just enough nourishment to keep her from dying.

  She slept a minimum of twelve hours a day. Anytime she was in her room, that’s all she did, before she’d be cruelly woken to endure hours upon hours of torture. She hadn’t met the master of the house, had no idea what all this abuse was for.

  The whip flew through the air again, this time crossing her chest, the end snapping at her bare nipple. The pain nearly made her pass out as she saw stars float before her eyes.

  “That’s enough for the day,” Buster (she now knew their names) told the other men.

  “My arm’s worn out anyway,” Rock said.

  “You guys take the night off. I’ll take care of her,” Leo said.

  She almost perked up at the familiar voice.

  She hadn’t seen him since the night he’d carried her into her new prison. Why did she care? She didn’t, she decided when the other men put away their “tools” and trotted from the room¸ talking about dinner plans.

  Her stomach rumbled. She sat still, her arms beyond aching as they were held tautly behind her back with ties.

  Leo stepped in front of her, and his eyes seemed kind as he looked at her. “How are you holding up?” he asked.

  She looked at him without a clue of what he was expecting from her. She was never asked questions. If she spoke she was punished, so she just sat there, wondering if this was a whole new form of torture.

  He lifted his hand and cupped her cheek, and the kind gesture almost undid her. She so needed someone to care about her. But this had to be another ploy, and he was going to lift that hand in a moment and slap the cheek he was currently caressing.

  “I know this isn’t easy. I know your life has been taken from you. But the hard stuff will pass,” he said, standing and going behind her to loosen the ties.

  When her hands were unbound they flopped beside her in the chair. She still didn’t move. She didn’t do anything without being told anymore. Even if she found an opportunity to escape, she was so weak she didn’t think she’d be able to get away. Not unless she had plenty of time to crawl for miles and miles.

  Leo moved around to the front of the chair and undid her legs, then he scooped her up into his big arms and moved to the bathroom.

  Mary didn’t enjoy the cold showers. They weren’t freezing, but the water was never more than tepid. She would often wake hours later after getting back to her room, her body still shaking, unable to get warm.

  Leo sat her on the toilet, and she didn’t try to hide herself. What was the point? All the men had touched her, abused her, and stripped her of her dignity. She didn’t think of her body as hers anymore.

  Leo started a bath, and she turned her head the slightest bit. They normally threw her in the shower. Sometimes it was quick, sometimes excruciatingly long, but they never gave her a bath.

  Her body instantly began to shiver as she anticipated being submerged into the cold water. She could handle it, she told herself. It wasn’t any worse than what she’d already been through.

  When Leo lifted her and sat her in the water, her eyes widened, connecting with his gaze. The temperature was bordering on too warm, but she wouldn’t complain. It felt too good on her aching muscles.

  “How does this feel?” he asked as he picked up a sponge and added a nice dollop of soap to it.

  She still didn’t respond. He was asking her a direct question, but she hadn’t been allowed to speak for so long, she again didn’t know if this was another trick.

  When his hand moved toward her, she couldn’t cover up the flinch. He stopped.

  “I’m not going to hurt you right now. I’m going to clean you up, get you a nice meal, and then leave you alone,” he told her.

  He didn’t move until she finally nodded her head.

  Pushing her forward so she was hugging her knees in the hot water, he began rubbing the soft sponge over her back. The contrast of his gentleness was unnerving because she was no longer used to it.

  He said nothing more as he gently scrubbed her entire body, being more careful around her severely bruised places. When he was finished, he had her lie back, washed her hair, helped her stand, and then turned on the shower and rinsed her off.

  When she stepped out, he held a fluffy pink robe open and a small sigh escaped Mary’s lips when he wrapped it around her. She quickly clamped her teeth together, afraid she was going to get in trouble for the sound.

  “It’s okay. I know you’ve been put through hell. That’s just the process, little one. If you just quit fighting this, it does get easier, I promise,” he assured her and placed a hand behind her back, leading her to her room. She wasn’t fighting anyone. She was in no shape to do that. So what in the world was he talking about? She wanted to ask, but didn’t dare do it.

  “I’ll be back with food,” he told her before shutting the door.

  She waited but didn’t hear the latch connecting, telling her the lock was securely in place. She moved to the door, and her fingers caressed the knob. Was this a test? Was he on the other side waiting to see if she tried to run?

  She gripped the doorknob, her fingers shaking as she tried to decide what to do. When her knees began shaking she knew even if it wasn’t a test she was in no shape to run. What if she got past this dungeon? She had no idea where to go, how to escape the house, or even if there were guards.

  If it was a test, she wanted to pass it. She needed them to believe she was accepting her fate. The more they trusted her, the better chance she had of getting away.

  Slowly, she moved over to her bed and sat, then pushed back against the wall and pulled the covers up around her. With the hot bath, thick robe and her cover, she was warm for the first time in a week.

  Her eyelids began to droop, but she fought it, hoping Leo hadn’t been lying, that he was bringing her food right now.

  When the doorknob turned, she looked at the opening with wariness. Just because Leo had said he was bringing her food, didn’t mean that’s what was happening. This could all just be a pause in the torture. They might want to make her comfortable before they began beating her all over again.

  When Leo’s face smiled in at her, and the smell from the tray drifted across the small room, she began shaking again.

  He set the tray on her lap and sat across from her as she looked down at the cut-up steak, macaroni and cheese, bread and butter, and a full glass of milk. She was afraid she was going to wake up any minute and the food would be nothing but a dream.

  “Dig in before it gets cold,” Leo urged her.

  She didn’t hesitate any longer. She gulped the food down, not looking up as Leo laughed. All too soon, the entire plate was cleaned, the milk emptied.

  Leo stood and took the tray.

  “Not everything or everyone here is bad,” he told her as he cupped her cheek. “Not all of us are the enemy.”

  He then turned and walked from the room.

  With a full stomach and warm body, the aches were barely noticeable; Mary lay down a
nd swiftly fell asleep. Maybe tomorrow wouldn’t be as bad a day . . .

  Chapter Nine

  What’s your name?”

  Shaking in her chair, Mary knew what they wanted to hear, but she couldn’t say the name. She couldn’t convincingly tell them she was Elena. They would know she was lying. They’d punish her no matter what she said because she wasn’t allowed to lie to them. They always seemed to know.

  She just wasn’t sure which punishment would be worse.

  “Did you forget how to speak?”

  The deceptive words were spoken quietly, which was worse than the yelling. When they spoke quietly, it was because they were getting excited. They would get to inflict pain upon her.

  She barely flinched when the whip came out and slapped against her naked thighs. There were already welts there, both old and new. She wasn’t sure how much more her skin could take before it began tearing.

  Patty assured her they wouldn’t break the skin, but Mary wasn’t convinced. The pain was unbelievable as the whip came down again, never in the same place, but still excruciating.

  “What’s your name?”

  This time her trainer whispered in her ear, his hot breath slithering against her neck.

  “Mary. My name is Mary,” she answered with a whimper.

  When the strap came down it hit her on the inner thigh, and she screamed in agony. It slammed down again, hitting her other thigh, up high where the skin was particularly sensitive.

  Tears rolled down her cheeks. She should be used to this. But she wasn’t.

  She’d been held captive for three months. For three months she hadn’t spoken to her mother or her little brother, for three months she had barely been fed enough to survive, and for three months she’d been tortured nearly daily.

  At the moment, she was strapped to a chair, wearing only a tight tank top and scant panties, her legs tied open to the legs of the chair, her hands tied behind the chair’s back. She couldn’t move, couldn’t shield herself from the continuing blows.

  They’d been in this session for two hours, and her body shook from the torture it had been put through. At least her day was almost over.