He yanks my head back by my hair, and I stare ahead at his cock that he freed at some point while I was lost in thought about killing him.
He taps my cheek and drags his tip across my lips, making me pull them between my teeth, preventing him access. “Open!” He hisses.
Begrudgingly, I open for him, but I give no effort to please him. He rocks his hips in and out—grunting with each thrust. His dick is salty and makes me want to puke all over his luxurious shoes. Closing my eyes, I do anything to mentally escape this fucked up situation. His hand slaps me across the cheek, sending a shockwave of anger through my bones.
“Look at me.” He commands.
So, I do just that. I glare daggers through his soul, and the motherfucker laughs—shoulders shaking from his cold-hearted reaction. He grabs my face from underneath, pinching my cheeks hard, making my teeth bite into them, and once again drawing blood.
“I like your blood on my cock, bitch.” I look down my nose to see the blood from my cheeks smeared along his shaft, and I’m even more revulsed. I didn’t think it was possible to be more disgusted right now, but here we are. He shoves my head down until my nose rubs his bristly pelvis. Tears stream down my face as I gag uncontrollably and fight for air. He grunts his release, then shoves meaway, where I collapse in a tangled heap of limp limbs. I choke and gasp for precious air while simultaneously heaving up his release.
I’ve always been uncertain about where I wanted to be in life, but this was never something I imagined. You hear about these things happening to other people, but never expect yourself to be one of these statistics. My mind keeps telling me things.You’re weak. You’re so stupid. Why didn’t you fight harder?I claw at my temples, begging the voices to stop.
My weak and abused body trembles on the unforgiving, rough carpeted floor. His shadow appears above me, stopping the breath from escaping my lungs, and my blood runs cold.
“Get on the bed.”
Everything is screaming at me to rebel, but slowly I crawl to the edge of the bed and climb up the side. The bed is bare, except for a plain white fitted sheet and two pillows. The springs groan beneath my weight as I bring my knee up to rest on the edge.
A calloused hand runs along the top of my back, sending a shiver down my spine—not the good kind. My breath hitches, and I freeze when his hand trails down my back, stopping at the knot holding the gown closed.
“What are y—,” I begin to ask, but his voice cuts me off.
“I want to see what I purchased.”
I gulp loudly when he swiftly unknots the strings, and the gown slides down my arms past my shoulders. The cool air of the room elicits a chill over my body, causingmy soft nipples to peak. I feel entirely too vulnerable being butt ass naked in front of a man who just violated me and is likely about to do worse. Closing my eyes tightly, I try to place myself anywhere but here. The beach comes to mind, with subtle salty breezes and ocean waves crashing into the warm, white sand. A faint smile pulls at my lips, thinking about dipping my toes into the warm water and looking out at the endless, vast horizon. Oh, how I’d love to be drifting off into the infinite pits of the sea. Reality kicks in, knocking the dreamy smile from my face.
Rocky nudges my back, encouraging me to keep moving onto the bed. I do as I was instructed, hopefully avoiding any more punishment.
“Lie on your back, arms above your head.” He commands, softer than before.
A rush of anxiety courses through me at the sound of metal clanking. I follow his movements and watch as he drags chains with cuffs from behind the bed. He takes each wrist and locks them tightly in the cuffs. I feel an immense weight on my chest, like it’s caving in. I’ve never had anxiety before, so I don’t know if I’m experiencing a heart attack or going into a panic attack. If it’s a heart attack, I hope it kills me right here and right now. I don’t want to live any longer. I can’t do this.
He brushes the tips of his fingers over the peaks of my breasts, and I clamp my eyes shut until colorful pixels dance behind my eyelids. He traces the curves of my body down to my hips.
“Beautiful.” He murmurs.
I swallow to push the bile that’s creeping past my esophagus back down. His touch is repulsive. It leaves slimy trails along my skin, trails I’ll never be able to wash off and forget about. Staining my once clean skin. He grabs something from the nightstand and holds it in front of my face. It’s a gag. I don’t immediately open, so he squeezes my jaw until I have no choice but to open. After he places it behind my teeth, he secures the straps behind my head.
The foot of the bed dips as he climbs on top. He bends my legs up at the knees, so he’s sitting in front of them and prys them apart, resting them so my pussy is completely exposed to him. His fingers swipe up my center. It feels good, but this is all so, so wrong. I can’t find enjoyment in this. I try sending my mind back to the beach, but my attempt flops when I hear him slide down the zipper of his pants again.
A deep rumble radiates from his chest as he leans forward, supporting himself with one hand on the mattress beside my chest. I open my eyes and instantly regret it as I face this predator. His eyes are all pupil, like an endless black abyss. Full of wicked arousal. He’s a psychopath, getting off on taking from innocent, helpless women. He feeds off their fear, their humiliation, and their fight.
He strokes himself and lines himself up with my entrance. I brace myself for the inevitable, holding my breath—waiting. But nothing ever comes. Instead, my head is filled with blaring sirens and flashing lights. I think it’s nothing more than my mind playing more tricks on mefrom the traumas. His weight lifts off of me, and he scurries around the room, hurriedly dressing himself.
“I’m not finished with you.” He warns before cracking open the room door. His shirt is half buttoned, and his pants hang loosely on his hips. It’s then that I realize this isn’t a figment of my imagination, that the sirens are real, and my gut is trying to warn me of what’s to come.
16
RYDER
We arrive at the decrepit motel, and I follow the boys inside. They don’t know I’m plotting my own mission without them. I stay just long enough to see them lay out floor plans of the residence, and when they start mapping their entrances and exits, I take that as my own cue to exit.
The house they’re keeping Kelsey in is eight minutes away. I can make it in one if I need to.
Pumping my fists at my sides, I pull out the key to the Escalade and remote start it, so it’s ready to go as soon as I’m inside. I don’t have time to waste on anyone trying to stop me. The summer heat has the air humid and sticky, making my breaths more labored as I take long strides to the escape car.
“Yo! Wait up!”
