“You lay a fucking finger on her—” Jude seethes, his voice raspy and slurring. His words are cut off when Dean gives a grating chuckle that sounds like crows fighting over the dead flesh of some poor animal. I can’t stop the shudder that runs through me at the sound, at the way his shit-brown eyes never leave me, trailing up and down my naked body.
My gaze flickers to the cage opposite, noticing the three remaining guys now standing at the bars, clutching them as if they’re the only things keeping them upright. Aeron is stock-still, unblinking in an icy rage which isn't aimed at me but at Dean. Anger pours off of him in palpable waves as he stares atthe Soldier’s back. Tarl is clenching his jaw so tightly that I'm worried about his perfect teeth, but it's Jude that really gives me pause. His face is set in lines of beautiful agony, devastation, and hopelessness as he watches the scene before him. There's anger there sure, but he knows as well as I do that there's fuck all they can do to help and that I'm no match for this monster.
“It'll be okay, Jude,” I say softly, his turbulent, ocean eyes snapping to mine, shimmering with unshed tears. “I'll be okay.” My hands hang limply at my sides, my voice cracking at the end. My heart thuds dully in my chest, and I know that it's a fucking lie. We both know it and I watch as he swallows hard, straightening his shoulders and blinking furiously, trying to be strong. For me, I think.
His eyes widen suddenly, his mouth opening to shout but I don’t hear it before pain explodes across my jaw and my head snaps to the side, my whole body slamming into the concrete floor. More pain erupts across my side, the hard, unforgiving surface bruising every part it touches instantly.
Fucking stupid Lark, taking your eyes off the predator who’s locked in with you.
I can hear shouts and curses, but it’s faint through the ringing in my head, and my vision blurs as I blink. A hand tangles in my auburn locks, wrapping tightly and using it to pull me to my feet with a pained cry escaping my lips. My hands fly to grip his, to try and alleviate the tearing out of my hair, but it makes little difference.
My world becomes a storm of pain after that, one hurt rolling into another until there’s not a single part of me that doesn’t scream in agony or bleed. I’m lying on the cold floor again, along the front of my cell, my body spent and unable to hold my weight up anymore.
“See,” comes Dean’s whisper, his rancid breath fanning across my face and reminding me of stagnant water with deadthings floating in it. “You may not be dead, girlie, but you’re almost there.”
He flips me onto my stomach, bile rising in my throat as my head swirls and the room tilts. My ribs protest—something is definitely fractured if not broken—but I can no longer make a sound, my throat raw from screams that I stopped hearing some time ago. My body jerks as he yanks my legs apart, agony screaming along my many hurts at the rough move. I’m so fucking dizzy and disorientated that I can’t even fight him off.
Through the buzzing in my ears, I hear the clink of a belt buckle, my heartbeat becoming frantic like a trapped bird as the reality of what’s about to happen sinks into my bruised bones. Living with the Tailor boys has spoiled me, made it easy to forget what it’s like to have to unwillingly give my body over to a man who didn’t even ask, let alone earn the right to it.
A small pained grunt hisses from my lips as Dean enters my dry pussy, but the sharp sting is nothing compared to the throbbing of the rest of my body, it’s enough to tell me that there'll be some tears that Doc will have to sew up later. It won’t be the first time he’s done it, although it depends on if I’m allowed medical attention after this. I hope so, otherwise, the shallow stab wound Rufus gave me will become problematic. Currently, I can barely feel it, the throbbing of the rest of my body is too great.
“Dove.” A broken murmur sounds from in front of me, and I turn my head to find Aeron’s stormy, blue eyes drowning in agony on the other side of the two sets of bars. He’s lying on the floor so that his face is level with mine, the cages only a few feet apart. Slowly, he stretches his hand out so that his arm is lying across the walkway, his shoulder pressed up to the bars, just like I assume he did last night.
Taking a deep exhale, I move my arm so that it, too, lies across the walkway. Flashes of pain race up my side from my ribs as I try to stretch to reach his fingers.
“That’s it, baby, just a little further,” he encourages, even as my arm jerks in time to the thrusts behind me. I shift closer, ignoring the annoyed grunt from Dean as my body moves. I’m surprised he doesn’t make more of a fuss, but he’s too busy rutting into me like a fucking pig to notice I guess.
A soft gasp escapes my mouth as my fingers brush Aeron’s, his own clasping the tips of mine as if the touch is the most important thing in the world. Useless tears well in my eyes, spilling over at the same time as a drop leaves his own lids to run down his nose.
“It’ll be okay, Dove, I swear,” he vows, his voice raspy and thick. “I won’t rest until everyone who’s ever laid a hand on you lies bleeding at your feet. Including this cunt.”
“Is that so, baby Tailor?” Dean taunts, pausing in his movements, and the skin surrounding Aeron’s eyes tighten, although his gaze never leaves mine. I shiver as a meaty hand brushes my aching scalp, chunky fingers tangling in my hair once more. “You’re a tad too awake for my tastes, girlie,” he whispers, sending shivers of revulsion down my spine as he pulls my head back, my neck bending at a sharp angle.
I lose my grip on Aeron’s fingers, the loss of comfort far worse than the pain in my body.
“N—” Aeron shouts, but I don’t hear the rest as my head cracks down on the floor one last time and everything goes black.
CHAPTER FIVE
“IN THE END - MELLEN GI REMIX” BY TOMMEE PROFITT, FLEURIE, MELLEN GI
AERON
We continue to watch Dove long after that Soldier cunt leaves, and I trace the rise and fall of her back almost obsessively, letting it count down time. At least the scum left the light on, I’m not sure I would have coped if he had switched it off and I wasn’t able to watch her.
“She’s still breathing at least,” Jude says quietly, his voice so broken that it tears my already fractured heart into more pieces. We failed her, we couldn’t protect her when she needed us the most and I know that I will never forgive myself for that.
“She’s sustained at least fractured if not broken ribs on her left side, a head wound which more than likely is a concussion, and probably tearing of her vagina,” Tarl says, voice devoid of all emotion, and if I didn’t know him better, I would launch at him right now and beat the shit out of him for being so unfeeling. Buthe’s detached himself, separated himself from his emotions in order to get through the horror that we just witnessed.
I can’t blame him; I want to do the same, but I can’t. I have to be here for her fully when she wakes up. And she will fucking wake up. My hands clench into fists in my lap as I continue to sit on the frozen fucking floor and stare at her.
Light and noise suddenly fills the space as the door at the end opens, and I get a glimpse at the room beyond, full of Soldiers partying like this is all a big game to them. Like the daughter of their leader wasn’t just viciously raped by one of their own. Although, I guess as it was on Rufus’s orders and it wasn’t anything unusual in the past, why would it bother them?
I grind my teeth when two Soldiers enter, dragging Knox between them. He only looks semi-conscious, his head hanging down, and I can see blood trickling down the side of his face. He looks fucking out of it, and a growl builds inside of my chest the closer he gets to us.
There’s another figure behind him, an older man with round glasses and he looks to be carrying a brown leather bag, the kind you see doctors carry in all the old movies.
“Back up!” one Soldier snarls, and not wanting to be tased again, I do as he says, moving away from the bars at the front of our cage, my hands raised a little to show I’m not a threat. Not yet anyway. Their time will come, we just need to bide ours.
