Page 56 of Hard Game

I try to clamp my legs together but can’t; they’re tied too far apart. I yank at the ties and almost cry when they dig into my skin, but I don’t give up at all. I fight even though it’s pointless and scream when he jabs his fingers into the private space between my legs; I grit my teeth and stare at the ceiling, trying to take myself away. The ceiling offers no escape, and I block out his disgusting words as he continues invading me with his fingers, using me like a toy.

I think I know where I am and who has taken me.

“Detective, isn’t this brilliant?” The man says, crawling on top of me, his weight crushing my body. I close my eyes and turn my head as he fumbles with his pant zipper, praying that he makes this quick. “You get to be part of your investigation!”

“Don’t fucking touch me!” I spit, vowing to kill this fucker today.

Whatever I imagined traffickers to be, it wasn’t clean. They didn’t smell of peppermint and?—

Fuck, that hurts! He’s forced himself inside me!

“Oh, fuck yeah!”

I try to take myself away from what’s happening, what he’s doing…

Invading me like he probably has countless women before me. I want to cut his fucking dick off and shove it down his throat. “Coward!” I hiss, wishing I could kick him in the balls. “Dirty, spineless, small-dicked bastard!”

“Oh, yeah, baby, call me names. Do I feel small to you, huh?” He grunts as someone in the background strikes a match. Someone is watching him do this.

“Bernie said he was first; he’s gonna kick off.”

“Bernie can suck her juices off my dick when I’ve finished fucking her.” The man pants as I close my eyes, my thoughts going to my sister.

This is what she must’ve gone through.

Rape. Humiliation.

“Fuck!” The man roars, and I pray he’s finished. Vomit rises in my throat when he grips my head, forcing me to open my mouth so he can spit into my mouth. “You’re one tight bitch.”

There’s a ‘popping’ sound, and the man stares at me in shock before he slumps onto me. I scream as warmth spills over my chest, dripping into the crevice of my neck as another pop fills the air. Then the man is lifted from me and thrown to the floor like litter, and two eyes stare into mine that I thought I’d never see again. I choke on my tears as I struggle to escape, but Maddox is now staring at the man on the floor.

“Maddox,” I rasp, gritting my teeth. “Cut these ties, for fucks sake!”

Maddox looks back at me; this time, his mouth is set in a firm line, his teeth bared. “He raped you.”

“Untie me!” I demand, my chest rising and falling with desperation. “Quickly!”

He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a bloody knife before cutting my hands free, and then he starts to work on my feet. I sit up, my body aching as I study my bruises. The bastards fucking raped me.

But Maddox is here.

Maddox places his backpack on the floor and digs around in it before handing me a pile of clothes—my clothes.

“Where did you find these?” I whisper before pulling them on. My stomach twists when I see the man who raped me on the floor, his eyes staring lifelessly at the ceiling. Like I did when he took what he wanted from me—something I would never have given him willingly.

“I don’t have your boots,” Maddox says, still staring at the man on the floor. “You’ll have to walk barefoot. Are you okay with that?”

“Do you have a gun?” I ask, ignoring his question and holding out my hand.

I know Maddox has a gun because he just killed two men with one.

“Maybe,” Maddox says, crossing over to me. “For you to shoot me with?”

I frown and stare at him as he towers over me, his thin black t-shirt clutching his muscles. He’s wearing a tactical vest, and I can’t help but wonder if he’s come to save me or if I’m at the very place he set off to destroy. As I suspected, this is the work of the trafficking gang. This was always a risk: being abused or killed. My stomach churns, and I lean forward, hands on my knees as I vomit.

Maddox rubs my back, and I close my eyes, tears and snot mixing on the back of my hand as I cry. “Hey, I’m here. I’ve got you. I’m so fucking sorry, Little Fox.”

But it doesn’t matter. I can’t stop the tears of anger, frustration, and fear—I didn’t fear these fuckers until today when they took what they wanted from me against my will. Rape is disgusting, and I’ve dealt with more cases than I care to remember. But it’s also about control, especially for these men. They want to break the woman down, to make her feel like she’s worthless and powerless.

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