The gates are open when I run in, using every skill in my arsenal to act scared, look like I’m trying not to cry. It’s not hard because I’m scared and trying not to cry, but I have to keep the anger, the rage, the hate from being seen.
It’s more difficult than I imagined.
The phone’s destroyed, car door open and key still in the ignition, just like Nikolai planned. I’m on the wide drive, looking around, trying to go for innocent panic.
Up ahead is the house. It’s set back, way back from the road and neighbors. Combine that with the high stone wall… No one will hear me scream in there.
I tremble. I don’t want to go in the house, but I have to. I need to. I start for it.
If I had run from a man who held me prisoner, who broke me and used me, if I was a moron and thought I could come to this terrible man for salvation, I’d go for the house, for shelter, no matter what. Flinging wild glances around, I set my sights on it, like I’ve just made sure I wasn’t followed, and I beeline for the entrance.
A car roars up and doors slam. In seconds, rough hands have me tight.
Now the fear’s utterly genuine, as are the tears swimming in my eyes.
“Whore. Knew you couldn’t stay away.” I look up. It’s the man who injected me before the wedding. “Wanted some of us? Daddy’s gonna be here soon. Pity we gotta keep our hands to ourselves. For now.”
I swallow and it takes all I am not to rip free and run screaming. “DDaddy wouldn’t like that.”
He pulls me up against me, copping a feel with his hand on my ass as he drags me in through the door. Other men are there, big and ugly, wearing suits, nasty guns on display like they’re holding their dicks. Hysterical laughter sweeps me and I struggle to keep it down. Big guns, small pricks?
Get it together, Rose.
As I’m dragged deeper into the dark hall, a few hulking shapes with guns lurk in the shadows, and another vehicle pulls up outside behind me. There are voices, but they’re muffled from the words of the shadowy men I pass.
“Tasty meat,” says one.
A man adds, “Can’t wait to DP her.”
Another says, “Ass and cunt?”
“I’m thinking double cunt, double ass.” They laugh.
My stomach turns and I want to hurl. They all start in on running trains, on bats and cue sticks, on renting me out. On and on they go, each thing so nasty and depraved in the wrong ways that if I could run, I’d be dust.
The goon who’s got his hand roaming my ass, trying to slip fingers under my ruined panties to dip into my crack, who has my arm in a death grip, leans in and breathes stale cigarettes over me. “Finnegan promised you to me first, after he kills your lover. Your husband-unfortunately you gotta fucking go to him and his men first. So you’ll be worse for wear, but a hole’s nice and warm and you’re young, so I bet you’ll stay tight for me. Not for long, though, not when this lot all finish fucking you.”
He turns into a hall and drops the hand from my ass. “But,” he says, “don’t worry. I know a pretty fucking slut of a whore like you wants to be used. Maybe I’ll have cum rag tattooed on you. What about free access on your ass?”
He laughs, like he’s said something hilarious instead of impossibly ugly and wrong.
I fucking hate this man. I hate them all. I’m so ill from what he’s saying,
I can barely walk, and the rage in me keeps spiking. In what world do they think they can say this to a woman? In what world, thugs or not, do they think they can do this? And…Oh. My. God.
Sylvie? Did…did they do these things to her? Not the tattoos because they sound like deliberate things to scare me, but everything else? All the rape? Did they? What about others?
Mom? I retch.
He jerks me to face him. “Daddy won’t like it if you also stink of puke.
Bad enough you stink like someone came on you. I bet it’s that fuck, Wilder. You’re in for a beating, girl.”
I add each and every man here to my kill list. I don’t need to know their names to recognize them. This one? I want to rip him apart with my bare hands.
I try and stay calm. This rage that consumes me is new and completely terrifying, and it’s seductive as hell. I want to dive into it. I want to soak this place in blood for what they want to do to women. Maybe, before I leave, Nikolai will help me.
Thank goodness I’m wearing the tracker. I- “Bring her here,” comes the voice of my father.
I look up. We’re at the end of the hall, in a heavy wooded and leatherladen room, and he stands at the end. Like Nikolai, he’s in an impeccable, bespoke suit. Unlike Nikolai, it’s nothing but a costume that fails to give him the utterly dangerous air of my lover. I don’t mistake that for him being harmless. He is what he is and no veneer or urbane tailoring can hide it. Derek Finnegan is an ugly, rough and violent brute, the kind who would torture dogs, kittens, children, women. He’s the type of brute that enjoys it, without guilt, without compunction.
He’s evil.
I swallow down the burning, bitter bile. His mouth lifts in a sneer as he rests a hand against a stupidly ornate, heavy wooden desk.
“Well, cunt, you’re a disgusting little mess, aren’t you? Realized your lover only wanted to fuck you out of revenge for me? Had to come running back to Daddy?” He straightens, and there’s pure hate and disgust in his eyes.
He wants to hurt me. Badly. That prowls in him, beneath the skin. It takes everything I have not to spit at him, not to lunge for the paperweight of…is that Al Pacino or Robert De Niro?…and smash it into his head.
Instead, I hang my head and play the game. “I…he took me, Daddy, made me think he…l-loved me and he didn’t. I stole his phone and he let me drive him to a party, and instead of going home, I…I called you and came here.”
Gathering up all my nerve, I squeeze out a tear. One thing that having to do pageants have taught me is that perception is everything. If you give off cool and confident and you’re scared inside, no one sees that fear, just the confidence, so if I project the fear, then… “I’m sorry!”
“Thorne, if you weren’t still actually worth something to me, I’d throw you to my men to rape you into unconsciousness and let them keep you to do with what they wanted. As long as I don’t have to see your worthless face, I’d be happy. You stole money from me. Power. But you came home, so you can work your fucking whore ass off to make it up to me.”
“Daddy, please.” I hate that word. Calling him that is so vile, I need to wash out my mouth. Instead, I look at him, pleading, holding out my hands, and I make my chin wobble like I’m about to lose it. “I’m sorry.”
“Stupid little bitch, aren’t you?” He shakes his head. He pulls out a cigar from a box on the desk and sniffs it, then slides it into the breast pocket of his jacket. “Just like your fucking mother. Sold yourself for ass, and he doesn’t even want you.” He shakes his head and laughs. “I know Wilder fucked her. Gave her money for it, too.”
I struggle to breathe and drop my gaze. “He kidnapped me. I didn’t choose any of this.” It isn’t a lie. I didn’t. God, did Nikolai and my mother…? I…I can’t believe that. Can I?
“I didn’t choose him,” I say. “I didn’t choose imprisonment or marriage or you, but you’re all-”
He punches me in the face, hard. Pain bursts like colored stars behind my eyes as blood soaks my face, and I go down. I stay there, dazed, wiping at my face, crying for real from the pain and shock. He stands above me face, twisted into ugly violence and hate.
“Fucking ugly little cunt. You’re nothing but a useless whore. Nothing but a receptacle for me to sell and trade. You disgust me and now…” He drags me up by the hair and punches me in the stomach. I spray blood on him. “You’ve made me damage the merchandise, a little more than I wanted.”
He slaps my face, pinches my nose, and I howl. “Not broken. Got your ugly little mouth. Probably had it wrapped about Wilder’s little dick, did you? You stink like sex.”
I can’t speak. I can’t move. A numbness invades my bones. I need…I need Nikolai, and he isn’t here.
My father bares his teeth. “You think he cares? He doesn’t. He wants to try and hurt me. That’s why he fucked you.”
“No-”
“Yes.” He looks at me with pure hate. “Time to go get ready, stupid cunt.” He wraps his hand hard in my hair and brings my head down hard, slamming it on the edge of the table. The room spins and my vision doubles and then he does it again.
Everything goes black.