I brace myself.
I open the door.
Becki
Trembling.Destroyed.Transforming into something savage.Light floods in through as the door swings wide.The cold air hits my wet face and makes every tear sting.
Royal fills the frame.
He looks like sin and regret molded into one body, shirt gone, pants still open, hair a mess, chest rising and falling like he’s been fighting a demon.
Maybe he has.
Or fucking one.
I don’t flinch.I don’t look away.I stand up slowly, the chain dragging across the closet floor like a serpent waking from sleep.
My legs shake, but I keep my chin high.The tape over my mouth tastes like glue and humiliation.
Royal reaches for it.
I slap his hand away.
Silent, his jaw flexes.He tries again.
I slap him again, harder.He grabs my wrist fast enough to bite a gasp out of me, but he doesn’t tighten his grip.Not yet.
We hold each other's gaze.
My wet eyes burn.My voice is trapped.My heart is like a raw wound.
He made me watch.
And the worst part?
He knew exactly what it would do to me.
His thumb brushes my cheek, wiping away a tear he caused.That is what snaps the last thread.I lunge at him.My body slams into his chest.I shove him with everything in me.The tape muffles my scream, but the rage in it shakes me.
Royal stumbles back a step.Only a step.
He grabs my arm, I twist free.I hit him in the shoulder with my chained wrist, metal cracking against muscle.He grunts.
Good.
I swing again.He catches my forearm mid-strike.His grip tightens.Not enough to hurt me.Enough to stop me.
I thrash against him, breath coming fast through the tape.He pins me to the wall and I writhe, trying to knee him, trying to claw his eyes, trying to make him feel how much he just destroyed inside me.
He’s breathing hard now too.
“Stop,” he barks.
I shake my head violently.
“Becki,” he warns.
I slam my forehead into his chest.
