Stay (12 page)

The guy brushed past me and closed the door. I wrapped my arms around myself and fought back tears. Zane made it very clear that my family would pay for my misbehavior. I could risk myself, but I wasn't going to risk them. I couldn't.
 

The guy sniffled and wiped his runny nose with the back of his hand. He tipped his head, motioning for me to follow him. He unbuttoned his baggy jeans as he walked through the living room. I stepped over fast food wrappers and followed, my throat tightening with each step.
 

Halfway to the bedroom, I stopped, my foot hovering mid-step in the air. "No," I whispered to myself. I wasn't going to give up just yet. I still had faith I could make it to the police in time. I still believed Zane was lying. I took a deep breath, turned around, and sprinted to the door. My fingers fumbled with the lock.

"Hey," the guy started and made a move to race after me. I was faster. I threw the door back and froze.
 

No.
I had come this far only to be stopped … again.

Zane was standing in the doorway with his arms on either side of the frame. He laughed when he saw the horrified shock on my face.

"I knew you'd try and leave," he taunted. He put his hands on my shoulders and turned me around. "You'll pay for that." He shoved me inside and closed the door behind us. “You like ‘em tied up?” Zane asked the customer.

The guy—my client—chuckled and nodded. Zane reached behind him and retrieved a set of handcuffs. Light reflected off the metal. Brown, crusted blood speckled the rims.
 

“No!” I yelled and fought against Zane. “No!” I tightened my arms and tried to twist away. He was going to handcuff me, and I wouldn’t be able to get away. Panic choked me. I screamed. My head throbbed from the blood rush.
 

“Where do you want her?” Zane asked and grabbed the back of my neck, tightly wrapping his fingers around me.
 

The guy pointed behind him, and Zane thrust me forward, forcing me down the hall. I straightened my legs and locked my knees, refusing to walk any further. Tears splashed to the floor. I brought my head back, hoping to hit Zane in the nose, but all it did was crunch my spine. Zane brought his knee up, hitting me in the tailbone. My knees buckled, and he forced me forward and into the bedroom.

Zane hoisted me up onto the bed and straddled me. The mattress was lumpy and smelled like stale cigarettes. He forced my arms over my head and locked the handcuffs to a wooden headboard. He slowly moved his body down, pressing himself against my pelvis and showing that manhandling me aroused him.
 

“You be a good girl,” Zane whispered. He put his lips just an inch above mine, his breath hot in my face. Then he tipped his head and licked me, trailing his tongue up my neck. He laughed and moved off of me. He tossed the keys to the handcuffs to the client. “One hour,” Zane reminded him and left. I heard the apartment door slam shut. The guy unzipped his pants and crawled onto the bed.

It was going to happen. There was no escape. No throwing up on a life-size doll, no running into the forest. Horrible things were going to happen to me, and I was forced to let them, forced to stay.
 

“You’re a pretty thing,” the guy said and crawled onto the bed. I clenched my legs together, breathing so fast with fear I was near hyperventilating.

“Don’t touch me!” I screamed. “Don’t fucking touch me!” Tears streamed down the sides of my face.
 

The guy pulled his pants down, kicking them off his ankles. He stuck his hand inside his boxers, rubbing his erection. He groaned, running his eyes up and down my body. Slowly, he pulled his hand out of his boxers, took them off, and moved down on all fours, holding himself up over top of me.

He put his hands on my knees. I jerked my legs to the side, breaking his hold. “Don’t touch me!” I screamed.
 

He took hold of me again, pressing his legs over mine to keep them still. I thrashed around, madly pulling on the handcuffs. If I could just break free, I’d grab something and smash him upside the head. Then I’d tie him up and get the hell out of here.

His fingers hooked around the elastic band of my underwear. He smiled and pulled them down. He gobbled them up and stuck them to his face, inhaling deeply. I wanted to throw up.
 
Instead, I bent my legs up and kicked him in the stomach.

His breath left him in a whoosh. He tossed the underwear on the floor and moved back over me. “You like it rough, cunt? Huh?” He slapped me. “I’ll show you rough.”

Tears bit at my eyes and my cheek stung. I turned my head away, rattling the handcuffs. He got on his knees and grabbed my legs, trying to pry them open. I screamed. My pulse thumped in my neck, and my ears rang. I was dizzy, terrified, and my vision threatened to go black as my brain checked out, unable to handle this.

Please, God, no.
This wasn’t going to happen. I would get away. I had to! I pulled on the handcuffs, the metal cutting into my skin. Frantic, I twisted around, thrashing my legs against him. Fear suffocated me. Hot tears burned in my eyes.
No…no…
this wasn’t happening.

His fingers dug into my skin as he tried again to pry my legs open. I couldn’t breathe. Black dots floated in front of me. The ringing grew louder and louder. My chest painfully tightened, holding back my pounding heart. He wedged his knee between my thighs, forcing my legs open. I pulled on the handcuffs and screamed.

“You gonna scream for me, baby?” he asked and moved over me. He put his hands on the bed and forced his torso down on mine. “No one will care, princess.” His breath was hot in my face.
 

He reached one hand down and widened my legs, putting a finger inside of me. He pulled his hand back and stuck his finger in his mouth.

“Mmhhh,” he moaned, closing his eyes. “I can taste your innocence. I want more.”

He reached down, taking hold of himself, and shoved himself inside of me. Horrible, searing pain shot through me. Completely dry, I felt my skin stick as he pushed further in. It was going to rip off. At least the blood would keep me from tearing even more. I screamed, hysterical from the fear and pain. The bed creaked and slammed against the wall as he thrust back and forth, jamming himself into me.
 

My arms jerked overhead as I pulled against the handcuffs. He moved back and thrust forward again, harder than before. And each thrust hurt just as bad as the one before. He grabbed my legs and lifted them up, shoving himself so deep inside it felt like daggers pushing into my stomach. Only I wasn’t going to bleed to death. He would finish, and I would get up. And then it would happen again. I cried out in pain.
 

“Stop!” I screamed. He kept moving, grunting with each thrust. Sweat rolled down his forehead, dripping off the greasy hair that stuck to his face, and splashed onto me.

Suddenly, he pushed my legs apart, pushing them onto the mattress. I screamed as my muscles threatened to snap from the over stretch. With one final grunt he finished, heaving his body down onto mine. His weight on top of me made it hard to breathe. I turned my head to the side, gasping for air. His opened his mouth, moaning. His head pressed against my chest and he let out a growl.

Finally, he stopped moving. My body trembled. An echo rang in my ears, as if I was about to pass out. I wished I would. I didn’t want to be conscious and able to think or process. I didn’t want to understand what had happened. I wanted to crawl into a hole and die.

He collapsed onto me, panting. I squeezed my eyes shut, thinking about my house. I wanted to be there so desperately that I swore I could smell the lavender scented candles my mother was always burning.
 

He pushed off of me and stretched his hands over his head, letting out a satisfied breath. Then he got off the bed, picking his pants up from the floor. He stumbled into them and left the room.

My dress was pushed up to my chest. Everything inside of me hurt, and I was still handcuffed to the bed. I had never let anyone finish inside me before, not even Mateo, a previous long-term boyfriend. And there it was, dripping down my leg and onto the mattress.

And just like that, he had robbed me of my innocence. It was gone, never to come back. And I would never be the same.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

TEARS BLURRED BY eyes as I pushed myself up off the bed. I wrapped my fingers around my wrist, gently covering the lines of red, raw skin. A chill ran through me as I looked around the messy room for my underwear.

I took one step and doubled over. Searing pain burned between my legs, going up into my stomach. The palms of my hands pressed into my thighs. Open mouthed, I cried and gasped for air. Black dots speckled my vision. The world spun, and my arms flew out to keep from falling.

But I had already fallen. Down, deep down into blackness, miles below the surface. I couldn’t breathe. Did I even want to breathe? I could sink into the darkness and it would all be over.

No.
There was a way out.
 

I straightened up and took another step away from the bed. The burning shot through me all the way up into my chest. I clenched my jaw and bent over, the movements amplifying the pain, and grabbed my underwear.

I cried out when I lifted one foot off the ground and stuck it through the leg of the underwear. I made no attempt to hold back the tears that streamed in rivers down my face. I cast an angry glare at the door. How could that monster get off on my pain? How could he keep going when I screamed and cried and tried to get away?
 

My trembling fingers slipped and the waistband of the panties snapped against my skin. I straightened the dress and ran my hands over my hair. I kept my legs apart and walked out of the bedroom, dizziness setting in with a vengeance.
 
I felt so violated, so helpless, so
dirty
. I wanted to scrub every surface of my body until my skin peeled off, though I doubted even that would make me feel better.
 

I let myself out of the apartment, expecting to see Zane. Instead, Jackson stood slumped against the wall. His head rested against his shoulder and his arms were loosely crossed against his chest. He pushed off the wall when the door closed behind me and took a step in my direction. The color drained from his face and his eyes opened wide. One of his hands flew up as if he was going to touch me, but he stopped himself and just stood there with his hand awkwardly in the air.

I brushed away tears and pressed my chin into my chest. Jackson averted his eyes to the ground and tipped his head forward, causing his messy black hair to fall into his face.
 
His hand dropped to his side and he took a small step toward the stairs, pausing to see if I would follow. I pressed my arms to my sides and obeyed, following Jackson through the hall, down the stairs, and out of the apartment building.

My eyes closed when we stepped into the sun. I walked blindly, concentrating on how red the back of my eyelids were. Part of me wanted to think about what had just happened. Another part knew I couldn't process it just yet.
 

"Careful," Jackson said when I reached the curb. I slit my eyes open and stared at the pavement, watching Jackson's feet move. His worn out work boots were covered in mud. I slowly brought my eyes up, unable to see all that well from the bright light, and noticed that his jeans were dirty as well. Then I remembered seeing him pulling weeds. Why did he pick me up when Zane was already in this part of town?

Jackson stopped beside an old, white Trail Blazer and opened the passenger door for me. I lifted my leg to step in and felt shooting pain deep inside me, causing me to flinch. I closed my eyes and inhaled sharply. I could feel Jackson's eyes on my back. My face crinkled as I silently sobbed and I got into the SUV.

***

It was dark by the time we arrived back at the farmhouse. I walked in front of Jackson and went straight to the basement. Jackson's voice sounded muffled as he spoke, telling us that he would bring food down in a few minutes.

"Addie?" Phoebe gently spoke.
 

I was still standing at the base of the stairs. She rose from the card table where she was sitting with Lily and Rochelle and walked over, gently putting her hand on mine. I flinched from the touch, the feeling of skin on skin sending a horrible memory to flash in my mind.
 

"Shhh," she soothed and moved to my side. "Let get you out of clothes."

I knew I nodded in agreement, but I hadn't fully processed what she was saying. I allowed her to lead me to the cot and sit me down. I kept my eyes on the floor, my sight blurring with tears. I heard a metallic squeak as the shower turned on.

"Wash," she said and extended her hand.
 

Shaking, I reached out for her. Her fingers laced through mine. Her grip was strong and reassuring. Not feeling like I was in my body, I got up and went to the shower. Phoebe held up a towel to allow me to undress in privacy. I stepped into the icy water, physically waking up my body. Emotion balled in my stomach, and I doubled over, sobbing. It had happened. All the pain, all the fear had really happened. Something had been ripped out of me, leaving a burning dead hole in my heart. And I would never get it back. What happened could never be undone.
 

I wasn't sure how long I cried. I was shivering so hard my body hurt. Phoebe reached into the shower and turned off the water. Without looking at me, she stuck a towel in. I wrapped it around myself and straightened up, my hysterical crying turning into hiccups.
 

Still shivering, I made my way to the cots. My knees buckled and I fell onto the thin mattress. I clutched onto the towel and rocked back and forth. Water dripped from my soaking hair, splashing onto goosebump-covered skin.
 

“You cold.” Phoebe gently lowered herself onto the cot and held up a robe.
 

I lifted heavy arms and stuck them through the sleeves. She pulled the robe up around my shoulders and brought the front together before tying it tightly at the waist. Phoebe moved around the bed and picked up my discarded towel. Then she gently gathered my hair in her hand and rubbed it with the towel.