by West, Sinden
He crouched down beside me, fingering the cuffs and nodded approvingly. “Hey, sweetheart. You missed me?”
I just looked at him silently while his smile widened.
“What’s wrong? Cat got your tongue?” A hand reached out to stroke my hair. “Don’t worry. I’ve got better uses for that pretty little mouth of yours.” I didn’t even flinch under his touch. I just hoped that I could disassociate.
Disassociate. I hadn’t even known what that word meant until after a night of sharing secrets with Mara and Torrance, Mara said that’s what she used to do when her uncle used to creep into her room at night. It was like she wasn’t really there, and later she couldn’t remember large patches of what actually happened.
That was the same as me.
The only downside, Mara had said, was that it made you more fucked up later on. I didn’t care. I needed my brain to be on my side to get through this. Something had to go my way for once.
He didn’t wake Aaron. He located the handcuff key sitting on the kitchen table and made quick work of releasing me, before grabbing my arms and yanking me up. He picked up his bag on our way out of the living room, but instead of going up the stairs, he turned to the back of the house.
This room was nicer. The bed was neatly made, and tacky paintings of flowers and fruit hung on the walls. Once there must have been a cross hanging over the bed because the outline was still clear and remarkably white against the rest of the yellowing wallpaper. He shut the door behind him and watched me. I forced my hands into fists so that they wouldn’t shake as he circled me.
“Look at you, all grown up.” He let out a low whistle. “But I didn’t say you could have underwear. Take ‘em off.”
I slid the G-string off and let it fall to the floor with reluctance. It may have been a stupid gift, but it had come from Finn. And right now, I missed the hell out of him.
He went and sat on the bed, and motioned for me to come over.
“Get my cock out and get your slutty little mouth to work. You know how I like it.”
I felt like a robot, a machine, as I tried to make it good. But it wasn’t good enough and before long he was grabbing the back of my head so I couldn’t pull away as he thrust into me. I gagged as he choked me with it, and I pushed at him. He pulled out and smacked me hard in the face. Warm blood trickled out of my nose.
He trapped my chin between his thumb and forefinger and shook his head sadly. “I really thought the boy would have taught you to behave by now.” Another sharp blow to the face sent me reeling onto the floor. “Now, get over here and suck me off good and proper.”
Before he let me at his dick again, he grabbed a full whiskey bottle out of his bag and started to drink right from the bottle. Then he cuffed my arms behind my back before pushing my mouth down on him again. I gagged, but I didn’t struggle.
Most of the day was spent with him treating me like some kind of plaything. I bit down on the bed covers to stop from screaming, but when he figured out what I was doing, he made me stop.
Everything felt unreal. Like I wasn’t really there, yet I was. I wondered if my mind would break after this.
When he rolled off me, I managed to work up the courage to ask him for permission to use the toilet. I needed to go desperately and had been scared that I would pee while he was pounding away at me.
He gave a small smile which instantly put me on edge. “Go on then.”
I darted out of the bed as fast as my pained body would allow, but he caught me before I could make it to the door. “Actually, I’ve changed my mind,” he said with a smirk.
I shook my head at him. “Please, I really have to–“
He reached over and pressed against my bladder. That was all that was needed, because to my horror, a stream of urine rushed from me, sliding down my thighs to form a puddle on the floor beneath me. I gasped in humiliation although part of me wondered why I would find this so humiliating when I had suffered so many indignities already.
He shook his head with a pleased smile on his face. “My, you really are a filthy girl, aren’t you?”
I was fighting back tears and didn’t answer. He didn’t like that. “Answer me!”
“I’m filthy.”
“And disgusting,” he prompted.
“I’m filthy and disgusting.”
“That’s right.”
Disassociate, just disassociate…
When he got hungry, or bored, I was forced to my knees to sit in the puddle of urine with my hands bound behind me, a scarf covering my eyes and a gag in my mouth.
I couldn’t cry anymore at that stage. If what he wanted to achieve was to dehumanize and degrade me, so I wasn’t even a person anymore, then he had succeeded. I wanted to die.
I flinched as I heard the door open. The person just stood there, and it was a while before I heard footsteps. A hand took my upper arms and forced me to my feet. I was led stumbling up the stairs. The shower was turned on, and I was guided under the spray as hands soaped at me. I hissed as the spray hit my anus, and he didn’t touch that area. Once I was rinsed off, I was taken out and sat on the closed lid of the toilet. Only then did the gag get taken out, my arms freed and blindfold removed.
Aaron stood in front of me, holding my toothbrush out to me. I couldn’t read the look on his face, so I took the toothbrush and limped to the vanity. As I started to brush, the urge to vomit overcame me and I rushed to the toilet to empty my stomach. I didn’t look at Aaron as I stood shakily again to try and brush my teeth.
When I’d finished, I turned to him. He lounged in the doorway, arms crossed against his chest.
“Why don’t you just kill me? It’s what you do, isn’t it?” My voice was a rasp after all that abuse. It hurt to talk.
He cleared his throat. “There’s some food in your room. Why don’t you eat it and then try and get some sleep.” He moved aside and I walked past him unsteadily to reach the bedroom.
I crawled under the blanket, curled up and faced the wall.
“You should eat something.”
I bit my lip and then forced myself to speak again. “Is this what you two did with that girl?”
I was met with silence, and I thought he mustn’t have been there anymore but then he spoke.
“It wasn’t like this, Rachel. That was different.”
I ignored him, and after a moment the door closed.
I couldn’t sleep. I couldn’t even close my eyes, I felt like I was wired – maybe that was the combination of the fear and adrenalin. My heart was beating so fast that I hoped it would give out. Everything in me shook.
Chapter Twenty
After he came in my mouth, he pushed me away, so I had to lean back on my hands to stop sprawling over the carpet. He fixed himself up then leaned back in the armchair.
“You want a turn with her?”
I hadn’t realized that Aaron was even in the room. I turned my head slightly to look at him. He sat on the couch and caught my eye briefly before answering.
“Nah. I’m good.”
“Suit yourself.” He grabbed me by the hair and pulled me closer, so my head was against his leg, then he patted my hair like I was a dog. “Honey, you sure are good at that. I think I might keep you and rent you out. You’d be surprised how few women can give a really good blowjob. Aaron here has a few associates who run that kind of thing, don’t you, boy?”
In the two days that he’d been here, there had been no attempts at justification for his actions, religious or otherwise. It was like he had given up any farce and accepted what he was and his desires. He certainly seemed happier and hadn’t been as brutal as he was the first day.
Aaron rolled his eyes. “They’re not into sex trafficking. I think you’d struggle putting someone so reluctant into one of the brothels.”
He chuckled. “Well, maybe I need to start a venture of my own then, what do you think?” He leaned down and grabbed my chin, forcing my face up so I was forced to look at him. “After all, I did lose my job
because of you.”
I stayed quiet.
“Go pour me a drink. How about you, Aaron?”
“Sure.”
I got to my feet and began to move toward the tray which held the glasses and the alcohol, but not before a stinging slap was delivered to my bare ass. I flinched, but I shouldn’t have, I should have known to expect it by now. I filled a glass and passed it to Aaron, before getting one for him. After he took hold of the glass, he grabbed my arm and pulled me so I was across his lap. His hand continually squeezed then slapped my ass. It was unbelievable that I still felt humiliation as he played his games.
“Jesus, give it a rest, would you? Put her back in her room or something,” Aaron said. I couldn’t see him from my position, but he sounded bored.
He laughed again. “You sure you don’t want a turn with her? It’s the least I could do.”
“She’s not my type.”
He gave me a shove, so I landed on the floor, and then he grabbed my hair to keep me close. Once again I was a pet at his feet. I wished I could take this fucking dog collar off. It really did remind me of my place. Neither of them spoke for a while, and then when he did, it took me by surprise.
“So how’s your mother doing?”
It was the most human question that he had asked me since re-entering my life.
“She’s fine.” My voice was as flat and emotionless as I could make it.
“She sounds fine in her letters.”
My head snapped up, and I turned to look up at him. He was staring down at me, looking amused. “What? Didn’t you know she was writing me in prison?”
He took my silence to confirm my ignorance, and he was right to. “She’s a damn good letter writer, that one. So poetic, even a trip to the supermarket comes alive with her words.”
My mother was a woman of many talents.
His face became serious again. “The only downside to her letters was when she talked about you. She told me about the spoilt brat you’d become. That you were nothing but trouble. She asked me for money to help send you to college just so she’d be free of you.”
Bitch, Bitch, Bitch, Fucking Bitch
“But I don’t really think that you’re worth spending money on, do you?” He sipped his drink.
“She wrote to you?” My voice came out thin and weak, betraying the disgust and betrayal I felt.
“She sure did.” He looked smug as he said that, and I just wanted to slap that look off his face.
“After everything you did?” This voice came from a girl nearing the edge of a cliff that descended down into rage and craziness.
And then I laughed.
He straightened. “And what’s so funny about that?” The menace was clear. I would pay. He would make sure I paid. But I didn’t care.
“You’re so fucking stupid.”
“What the fuck did you just say?” he spat. That’s it, get him angry and then he might kill you.
“I said that you’re so fucking stupid.” He didn’t move, just stared at me with eyes bulging. “You’re an idiot. She tried to con you. She knew about your background and thought you’d be easy to manipulate.” I let out a small laugh. “Only she didn’t realize how crazy you really were until you beat the shit out of me. I mean, you could fuck and hurt me any way you saw fit, but when she actually saw you hitting and kicking me, that, of all things, freaked the stupid bitch out. I suppose she thought it was safe to try and manipulate you when you were in prison.”
He punched me in the face, hard. I fell backward, not really feeling the pain, only the endorphins that came from recklessly telling him the truth. I didn’t have survival instincts anymore. I only had pleasure from causing him pain.
He hit me again, but I still kept my eyes open as I lay there on the ground like a sacrificial lamb being bled for the good of a mythical god. His arm reached back to punch me again, but Aaron’s arm stopped him.
“Stop. You’re going to kill her.”
He pushed at Aaron, his eyes flaring with rage. “Who the hell do you think you are? Telling me what to do?”
He went to punch Aaron, but the younger man got there first. I heard the crack as his head hit the stone hearth. I saw his eyes turn to glass as blood began to trickle from his head wound.
I managed to get to my knees, and it took me a while to process that he was dead. I dared to look at Aaron. He was standing there, breathing heavily and staring at the body of his friend. I didn’t dare breathe or move in case he looked at me.
We stayed there like statues for at least a minute, until finally his eyes turned to me.
“You should go up to your room.” His voice was oddly calm.
I swallowed and shook my head. “No. You do whatever you’re going to do now. I’m not going to sit up there waiting for you to come up and kill me. I deserve more than that.”
A look came over him that turned my stomach.
“Just fucking go!”
I did.
Chapter Twenty-One
I huddled on the bed with the blanket wrapped around me and listened. The door was wide open; he hadn’t followed me up the stairs to lock me in. There was silence for a long time, and then I heard noises downstairs, and the front door creak open.
I thought about trying to run. I thought about the two cars that sat parked outside and the keys that must be somewhere in the house.
But I didn’t. He had said he’d hunt me down, and I knew he would. He already had one body to bury; two wouldn’t be that much more effort. I had to be smart about this.
So I just waited.
I tensed when I finally heard footsteps on the stairs, but he just walked straight past me to the bathroom without glancing at me. A minute later I heard the shower turned on. He stayed in there for a long time. When the water was finally shut off, and door opened, he went straight to his own room. I waited again, and he still didn’t come out.
Finally, I worked up the courage to move off the bed. I left the blanket behind and walked quietly to his bedroom. The door was half open and I pushed it so it opened all the way.
Aaron sat on the bed with his legs stretched out as he leaned against the headboard. He was wrapped in a towel, and drops of water still lay on his skin. A glass of amber liquid rested in his hand as he just stared straight ahead.
I stood awkwardly in the doorway, wondering if he even knew that I was there. He took a drink, and his eyes darted quickly to me then away again.
“What do you want, Rachel?” he asked in a tired voice.
I swallowed and moved closer. I dared to sit on the edge of the bed, facing toward him.
“What did you do with his body?” I asked softly.
He barked out a short laugh. “Why? So you can go pay your respects? Or maybe so you can go and dance on it?” He lifted his glass to his lips and took a long drink. “Don’t worry, honey. You don’t need to know where the bodies are buried.”
“Bodies?” I frowned.
His lips twisted before he took another drink. “Don’t worry your little head about it. Ignorance is bliss,” he muttered.
“So what happens now?” I made my voice strong and steady.
“I thought we’d have a wake. Have a drink.” He motioned toward the bottle that sat on the dresser before throwing what remained in his glass down his throat. “No? At least fill mine up.” He threw the glass at me and I caught it easily. I filled it to the brim before carefully carrying it over to him and setting it down on the bedside table. I went to move away, but his hand caught my wrist, giving it a tug so that I fell forward onto the bed. He pulled me close so I was forced to sit next to him. Even then, he didn’t let go of my wrist despite me trying to wrench it free. I finally gave up and sat still beside him.
He gave me a smug look and took a drink. I narrowed my eyes at him.
“I don’t want to be here if you’re angry at me. Because you shouldn’t be, I didn’t do this. I didn’t make you hit him.” My voice rose toward the end, almost panicking.
&n
bsp; He gave me a hard look before rolling his eyes. “Relax, Rachel.” He let go of my wrist, and I rubbed it even though it didn’t hurt. “I just need…to be distracted. You can be my distraction, so go ahead. Distract me.”
I swallowed and moved my hands toward his towel. But before I could touch him he shoved me away. I looked at him in surprise, and the disgust on his face was evident.
“Not that.”
Embarrassment flooded over me, and surprise. I sat up straight. “I thought that was what you wanted?”
He lifted his drink to his lips before answering, “Not everything’s about sex.”
I raised an eyebrow. “Really? I thought that’s why I was here. To be sexually humiliated and degraded because you’ve certainly done enough of that.”
He rolled his eyes again. “Since you like to talk so much, why don’t you tell me a story? Why don’t you tell me all about you and your oh so lovely mother.”
I glared at him. “I’d rather suck your cock.”
“That’s not what I’m offering. Now go ahead and tell me all about what you and your Mom do; otherwise I’ll take you out to the barn.”
“I’m not going to let you hurt my mother.”
He smirked. “Who said anything about hurting anyone? Go ahead. Talk. I’ll make it easy on you. What’s your real name?”
I bit my lip, then answered. “Paige Sanders.”
He shrugged. “You still look more like a Rachel. Anyway, this little scam you tried to pull, have you done this before?”
I thought about lying, but he would know, I knew he would.
“Yes.”
He didn’t look surprised. “How many times?”
I fidgeted. “How many times?”
“How many times did you screw your mother’s boyfriends to blackmail them?”
I shifted uncomfortably under his unwavering gaze.
“Five.”
“And when did you start?”
“When I was thirteen.”
He moved off the bed and refilled his drink, taking his time before returning to sit beside me again.
