Right before he’s about to come, he shoves himself further in and doesn’t move, and his cock twitches his release inside me.
Jared rolls off me with a groan, smacking me across my cheek and taunting me. “You’re not too bad of a fuck; until next time.” He winks.
All four of them stand around and snicker at my defilement, and my skin feels too tight for my body. All I hear is feet moving around, then the door opening and closing shut with a deafening thud.
My body sags, and I stare lifelessly at the ceiling, physically unable to look directly at Ryan.
Steadily, my senses return, and I hear Ryan sobbing uncontrollably, almost as if he’s hyperventilating.
Seconds, or maybe minutes, pass by as I dully sit here until Ryan stabilizes his breathing.
Shattering the silence without looking at him, I ask shakily, “How are we going to escape this hellhole?”
My mouth is dry as I try to swallow, and I move my head just enough for my eyes to connect with his.
His head hangs forward; I’m sure he’s trying to suppress the misery of watching me being brutally raped.
“I’m so sorry, Mar,” he croaks out, hoisting his head up. “You were right about them,” he admits, tears trail down his face. “I should’ve listened to you,” he adds defeatedly, lowering his head again in shame.
Bitterness coats my tongue, and the urge to lash out at him is strong for not believing me when I kept telling him something was off about them, and about me feeling like I was losing my mind.
He looks up again at me, full of concern. “Are you alright?” He stumbles over the question. “I mean, how bad is it?”
I choke back nausea as I recall what just occurred. I nod my head yes, lying to him because I don’t trust my voice at the moment.
There are no words to express how I actually feel, which is like thousands of knives have sliced open my inner walls between my legs.
Unexpectedly, the door slams into the wall, and we both jump at the sudden interruption.
Cora storms through the door, clearly drunk as she trips on her own feet, focused on something behind me.
Chills skitter down my spine in apprehension, not knowing what’s next.
Fuming, Ryan asks, “What the fuck are you doing?” He bucks against the restraints, thrashing wildly as he fights to tear himself free from the chair.
Slurring, Cora replies, “Cleaning you up; you both reek of filth.” She heaves a hose over in the middle of us. She takes hold of the nozzle, still wobbling, and holds down the lever as she sprays Ryan first.
Laughing with venom, she shouts, “Open up if you’re thirsty!”
Ryan opens his mouth, swallowing as much water as he can.
A few minutes pass, and she sprays me. I open my mouth, trying to catch water as well.
Then, she directs the hose between my legs, and a raw cry escapes me as my vision fractures, black spots stretching across everything I see.
I finally let sleep wash over me.
CHAPTER
TWENTY-NINE
Marley passed out a while ago. I’ve been sitting here, fighting with the memories of Marley’s violation. There are no words. I’m emotionally wrecked. My eyes grow heavy, and I start to drift off.
After a while, my body comes to attention as I remember our predicament. I make an effort to stretch my hands, but the handcuffs rip into my wrists.
Terror coils in my chest as I remember Marley and the horrifying fact that we’re prisoners of lunatics. A searing tang coats my tongue, sharp enough to make my teeth ache.
My breathing becomes erratic, and I cast a quick glance in every direction in the room, mentally mapping out the layout and contemplating how we’re going to get out of here.
