by Smyth, R. A
I’m still pacing the room nervously when the lock disengages and he once again steps into the room. This is it. The night I lose myself, either to Kurt or to death, or the night I break free.
His eyes become hooded as he roams them over my body, licking his lower lips. “Fuck,” he murmurs.
“You like it?” I purr, trailing my hand up my side. He follows the movement like a hawk before his eyes lift to mine and he comes striding towards me, his lips crashing down on mine. I bite his lip hard, making him groan as he pushes me back against the wall, lifting me up so my legs wrap around him, grinding his dick against my dry pussy.
I pull his top over his head, dragging my nails down his chest, drawing blood.
“I knew you’d be fucking wild,” he groans.
I need him to think I’m as into this as he is, that I’ve fully come to accept this. If he has any doubt, he will pin me down or tie me up and I’ll be helpless. I need my arms free to do what I need to do.
He pulls his dick out of his pants, but I reach down and stop him before he pushes my panties to the side.
His head snaps up, his eyes narrowing on me, but I make sure he sees only desire in my eyes. I lick my lips suggestively, leaning in close to him.
“The bed,” I demand in a husky purr. “I need to ride you, feel your giant dick deep inside me while I fuck you.” I swallow down the vomit threatening to spew out of me at those words. I silently reassure myself that I won't let things get that far.
A wicked grin crosses his face as his hands move to palm my ass, taking my weight as he moves us over to the bed, biting along my neck.
He sits down on the edge of the bed and I grind against him as he squeezes my breast to the point of pain.
I push down on his chest, once again clawing my nails down him. His eyes close in pleasure as he thrusts up into me, his hands tight on my ass cheeks, holding me in place.
I slip the straps of my bra down my arm, his eyes trailing the movement, before bringing my hands back to unclasp it. As I trail it down my arm and go to throw it away, I subtly slip out the needle, hiding it as I lean down to kiss him, keeping him distracted. I can’t afford to fuck this up now.
His hooded eyes close as my lips meet his, my tongue delving into his mouth in a sickening kiss. The final one he’s ever going to get.
I move my lips to his ear as I slowly raise my hand; the needle poised.
“I’m going to give you everything you deserve,” I purr seductively. It’s only when he sees the flash of my needle as I drive it into his eye that realisation dawns on him, the true meaning of my words registering. But by then it’s too late. Slamming the needle deep into his eye socket, I don’t stop until it’s well and truly lodged in there.
I’m frozen in shock for a moment as he screams out in pain, his hand coming up to his blood-soaked face.
I scurry off him, diving for the bedside table and lifting out a large jagged piece of the bathroom mirror. It was the only weapon I could think of. I wasn’t sure if a needle to the eye would be enough to kill him, and I need him fucking dead.
I wrap my hand tightly around the fragment, too numb to feel it tearing into my own skin, sending blood dripping down my fingers and onto the carpet. He’s writhing around the bed in pain, clutching his eye and cursing me out. “YOU BITCH,” he yells.
I don’t hesitate, knowing if I pause for even a second that I won’t go through with what I need to do. Driving the sharp edge of the fragment into the side of his neck, I pull it across his skin, tearing it open as blood spurts out covering me, the bed, him.
His movements become sluggish until he can do little more than twitch, before finally falling still, lying dead beneath me.
My hands shake like mad as I throw away the mirror fragment, climbing shakily to my legs. Fuck, I actually did it. I killed someone.
Knowing I’m still nowhere near safe, I move back towards his body, patting my hand over his pockets until I find his phone.
Pulling it out, I point it at his face, desperately hoping facial recognition software works when you have blood all over your face and a needle in your eye. Apparently it does and, when it unlocks, I pull up the keypad with shaking hands and enter Aiden’s number.
It rings out twice before his fucking heavenly voice answers.
“Who the fuck is this?” He snaps out.
“Aiden,” I cry out, tears of relief running down my face. There was a moment when I thought I’d never hear his voice again.
“Sophie,” he gasps, relief and pain in his voice. I immediately hear the other guys in the background firing questions at him. Knowing they are all there, together, only makes the tears run faster. “Where are you?”
“I...I don’t know.” Panic takes over me again at not being able to tell them where I am so they can come get me.
“Are you safe?”
“I don’t know.”
“Okay. Can you tell me anything that might give us any idea where you are?”
“Emm.” I hesitate, wracking my brain for anything useful. “I think I’m in a mansion. I can see a pool and gardens out my window.”
“Good, good,” he encourages, but we both know that’s useless information. Every house in Crescentwood has a pool. “Can you see a house number, or the street?”
“No, but I...I think I can escape.”
“Okay, if you think you can, give it a go, but be careful.”
I nod my head, even though he can’t see me.
“Stay on the line, we’re in the car now,” he demands, as I hear car doors closing in the background and the engine starting.
Not even caring about my state of undress or the fact I’m covered in blood, I race for the door, opening it quietly and checking the hallway is clear before leaving.
I move as quietly as I can down the hall to the stairs, checking the foyer is clear before running down the stairs and pulling open the front door.
“There’s numbers on the front door,” I pant into the phone when I catch sight of them. “Two, seven, eight, one.”
“We’re on our way,” he replies instantly.
I run down the driveway, not feeling the stones digging into the soles of my feet or the cold wind whipping against my naked skin.
I sprint through the open gates of the property onto the main road and keep going, adrenaline pushing me on, even though I know my body can’t take much more. I can’t make anything out on the dark street, the odd streetlight my only guide as I aimlessly sprint up the road.
It’s not long before I see the halogen headlights of a large car speeding down the road towards me, screeching to a halt when the lights flash over me, making me visible to whoever is in the car. The vehicle hasn’t even fully stopped before the passenger door flies open and someone comes hurtling out of it, running towards me. I don’t question it. Somehow, I just know these are my guys.
I don’t stop until I’ve crashed into the comforting arms of Barrett, his arms sweeping around me and catching me as the last of my energy drains out of me and my legs give out beneath me.
I bury my head in his neck as huge heaving sobs wrack through my body. His hand comes up to the back of my head, holding me against him as he murmurs soothing words against my hair. I feel the other guys circling around me and someone drapes a jacket over my naked back.
“You’re going to be okay. I’ve got you,” Barrett murmurs, walking back towards the car and climbing into the back seat, keeping me pressed against him.
I don’t lift my head from the crook of his neck for the whole journey back to the warehouse. I hear the other guys frantically whispering around me, but I can’t respond to any of it right now.
Chapter 29
When we get back to the warehouse, Barrett carries me straight into the bathroom, kicking the door shut behind us and setting me down on the toilet seat.
He pulls back so he can look at my face. It’s only then that I notice how haggard he looks. He’s got bags under his eyes like he hasn’t slept in day
s and I can feel the growing concern and anger emanating from him as he takes in my mostly naked, bloody state.
Thankfully, he doesn’t say anything or ask me any questions, probably sensing that I’m not ready to talk yet. Instead, he gets to his feet and goes to turn on the shower. Once it’s warm, he strips out of his clothes, until he’s standing in front of me in just his boxers. He scoops me into his arms and carries me under the hot spray.
The warm water works to partially push back the numb state I’ve descended into, and, as Barrett washes the blood from my body, I begin to feel human once again. I’m by no means the same person I was a week ago. I’ll never be that girl again, but I’m not the shell I would have become if I’d stayed locked up in that mansion with Kurt.
Barrett’s hands move clinically over me, rubbing shower gel over my body. I flinch in pain when his hand gently moves between my legs. He freezes, looking at me with a thousand questions in his eyes. He doesn’t ask any of them out loud and I don’t give him any answers, too ashamed of what I did, what I felt I had to do. Unable to look at his concerned face any longer, I look away, watching Kurt’s blood as it mixes with the water and is washed down the drain, until I’m once again clean. Except I’ll never really be clean again. I’m forever tainted, both by his actions and by my own.
Eventually, Barrett shuts off the water, climbing out and grabbing us both towels. Wrapping one around his waist, he bundles me up in the other, walking me back over to the toilet seat and gently pushing me down onto it.
“I’ll go grab you some clothes,” he says, looking at me for a long moment before turning away to open the bathroom door.
The other guys must be standing just on the other side as I hear their frantic whispering as Barrett steps out.
As the door closes behind him, I get to my feet, standing before the bathroom mirror. I don’t recognize the girl looking back at me. Dark circles surround my sunken eyes. My cheeks are swollen from Kurt’s hard slaps, and a violent smattering of bruises decorate my neck.
Pulling the towel away from my body, I find more fingerprint bruising on both my boobs and my hips. With time, all of them will fade. In a few weeks there will be no signs of the torture I endured or the horrible things I had to do. The only remnants will be imprinted in my head and tattooed on my heart.
Flicking my eyes up to my face again, it’s my eyes that are the most changed. They are no longer a sky blue colour, shining bright with strength and defiance. They’re dull, lifeless looking, like my very life force has been sucked out of me.
I’m still standing in front of the mirror, trying to reconcile myself with my reflection when Barrett returns. He’s already dressed in new clothes and has a pile for me. He gets me dressed like I’m a helpless invalid. Maybe I am. I make no move to take over, standing there like a statue while he pulls the boxer briefs and joggers up my legs and pulls a t-shirt and hoodie over my head.
When he’s done, he leans down so we’re eye to eye. He looks at me for a long moment. “Are you ready to go out there?” He asks, his voice soft and his eyes brimming with worry. “All of us have questions, but after that you can get some sleep, okay?”
I nod my head, knowing it’s best to tell them everything while I’m still in this numb state. I know I’m close to falling apart. It’s only a matter of time.
Emerging from the bathroom with Barrett’s reassuring presence behind me and his hand pressed to my lower back, encouraging me to move into the room, I find all three guys awkwardly sitting on the sofas in various states of anxiety. There is a bottle of whiskey on the table along with five tumblers, all filled with large measures of dark brown liquid already.
Ty, unable to hold himself back any longer, comes barreling towards me, sweeping me into his arms. I wrap my arms around his neck, pressing my nose into his shirt, breathing in his motor oil scent. There’s something so mundane about it, so normal. Usually I feel soothed by the smell, but today it’s yet another wedge shoved between me and my guys, a reminder of how fucking far from normal I’ve fallen.
“Fuck, I’ve missed you,” he breathes against my neck, not loosening his hold around me. I can’t speak past the sudden lump in my throat, I’m so overwhelmed by emotion to be back in this warehouse, surrounded by my guys.
Ty sets me back on my feet, casting his eyes over me. I watch as they darken as he takes in the bruises on my face and neck. I don’t know if Barrett has told them about the bruises elsewhere.
Taking my hand, he guides me over to the sofa, while Barrett busies himself in the kitchen. I settle myself awkwardly between Preston and Aiden, not sure what to say to either of them or how to act.
Before I can overthink it, Preston leans in and kisses me deeply, not giving a shit that all the other guys are watching. He only tears his lips from mine when Barrett comes over, pressing a mug of hot chocolate into my hands before moving round to the other side of the coffee table and sitting beside Ty.
Aiden drops his arm over me, pulling me in against his side.
“I’m going to kill him for you,” he promises darkly, sending shivers through my body. That should definitely not give me butterflies, especially not after what I just went through. Yet, knowing he would do that for me, risk his freedom for me, makes my heart soar.
I look away from him though, unable to meet his eyes. Despite his promise, he doesn’t have to do that. I’ve already killed him. I can feel his stare burrowing into the side of my head, confusion marring his features and questions in his eyes as I sip on my hot chocolate, savoring its sweetness.
They all just watch me as I sip away on my drink, putting off the inevitable for as long as I can. I expect Preston to be the one to break first, but to my surprise it’s Ty.
“What happened, love?” He asks quietly, sitting forward in his seat.
I glance at each of them, seeing the desperate need for answers and vengeance on their faces, along with concern for my well-being.
“I…” I start, but my throat blocks and I choke on the words. Taking a deep breath, I try again. “I wasn’t feeling well in class that day and I went to the bathroom,” I explain, trying to recall the events of that day. They’re all jumbled and foggy in my head though, and I know I’m still missing a huge part of the day. Shaking my head in frustration, I continue. “I don’t remember what happened after that. The next thing I know, I’m waking up on a bed in my underwear, with Kurt looming over me.” My hands shake at the utter terror I felt, and Preston wisely lifts the cup out of my hand before I spill it and burn myself with the hot liquid. “I…I couldn’t move. He must have drugged me or something.” I look up at the guys for confirmation, but none of them seem to have any answers for me.
I don’t say anything else, unsure of how to tell them what happened next, how I spent the next few days, what I did to him. Barrett, picking up on my reluctance, asks the question I know they all want to hear the answer to.
“Did he touch you?” His voice is filled with pain, making me close my eyes, the tears streaming down my face. “It’s okay, baby girl,” he soothes, coming to kneel in front of me, his hand cupping my cheek, wiping away the never-ending stream of tears. “We’re going to be right here. There’s nothing you can say that will make us leave.”
I so want to believe him, but he doesn’t know what I’m about to say. Maybe it would be one thing if he raped me, but I played along with it. I fucking orgasmed at his touch. What sort of person does that make me? I feel cheap and dirty, like I cheated on all of them.
When I still don’t answer, Preston leans in, his fingers gently gripping my chin and raising my head so I’m looking at him. He drops his barriers so I can see the anguish swirling within him, tearing him apart. “Did he rape you?” He asks in a low voice.
I give a tight shake of my head, feeling the tension bleed out of the other guys around me, but Preston can tell from my shattered expression that, while he didn’t rape me, something bad went down.
“But he touched you,” he states, working it
out for himself. I hesitate before nodding my head, my eyes never leaving Preston’s. His jaw tightens, but it’s the only sign he gives that my words have bothered him. I don’t dare look at Barrett or Ty, knowing they won’t be able to keep their emotions so tightly controlled and not wanting to see pity or pain in their eyes.
I can feel the tension mounting around me, the energy shifting in the room as each of them fight the urge to storm out of here and kill Kurt themselves.
I gently pull my head back from Preston’s grip, looking down at my lap. I can’t look at any of them while I tell them what I did.
Out of the corner of my eye, I watch as Ty comes to sit on the coffee table beside Barrett, so I’m surrounded by all four of them. The half circle formation around me helps make me feel safe and secure, but I can’t stop wondering how many of them will still be here after they hear I fell apart at Kurt’s touch.
“He...wanted us to be together. He said you’d brainwashed me and thought I just needed a few days to...I dunno, see the light? Anyway, he...he held himself back initially, but...he made me touch him, he...he touched me. He…” This is it. The moment I lose them. My hands won’t stop shaking in my lap as I twist them around one another. None of them reach out to me, sensing I need to do this on my own. I know if, when, they turn their backs on me it’s going to completely destroy me, but I have to be honest with them. “He made me come,” I blurt out before falling silent.
No one says anything. I can feel them all looking at one another, sharing a silent conversation. When did they start getting on well enough together to be able to communicate without words?
With every passing second I curl into myself, becoming smaller and smaller, wanting to be anywhere but here.
“What do you mean, love?” Ty finally asks. My eyebrows draw together in confusion, but I still don’t look at any of them. I can’t make it any clearer.
“You know what I mean,” I snap, getting annoyed. I don’t want to have to spell it out for them, but it appears I’m going to have to.
