Page 19 of Kings Fear No One
I’m wrenched off him, then tossed aside to the floor. Amos points a rifle in my face while the other two help the Leader up.
The commotion’s so loud, all the sounds blend together.
Teysha’s terrified screams. The pounding on the ground from the guards’ boots. The ragged breaths and storm of expletives I’ve released. The Leader’s eerily calm laugh as he spits out blood and grins down at me.
“I believe it is clear what needs to happen,” he says, standing naked with a level of cockiness only a man who thinks he’s god could have. “It seems Believer Logan needs a friendly reminder of his place.”
“NO!” I roar. “DON’T FUCKING?—”
A boot to the face shuts me up, pain exploding from my nose, across my cheeks. It’s the first hit of many. Amos and the other two guards surround me and begin doling out the friendly reminder. Punches, kicks, the butt of the rifle coming down hard against my skull and then my ribs.
“FUCK OFF!” I yell, twisting on the floor, throwing blind punches.
Soon all I can see are the legs of the men blocking off the rest of the room. All I can hear are my own grunts of pain and the crack of whatever bone’s being fractured.
Except for the Leader’s voice in the background.
“Now,” he says, “to enjoy my wife.”
“NO!” I yell before I’m pummeled again. “I TOLD YOU SHE DOESN’T WANT?—”
The rifle collides with my mouth and pain vibrates through my teeth. I’m swallowing blood as I weave in and out of consciousness. I come to in time for another punch. Another kick. Another jam of the rifle against some part of my bruised, broken body.
Soon I stop responding. My eye’s swollen shut and the pain’s throbbing everywhere.
There’s no escaping it… or anything else about the moment. I black out several times, then return to the squeaking of the mattress springs. Teysha’s choked sobs. The Leader’s groans of pleasure.
Until consciousness floats away again before I can even process it.
The fucked up cycle begins again. For hours that seem endless throughout the hellish night ’til morning bleeds across the sky…
6
TEYSHA
The Leader expects to be woken up by his wife pleasuring him. Accustomed to the routine, I do as requested. He rips the sheet from over my head and grins down at me.
“You have such a talented tongue, sweetheart,” he says. His hand finds my knotted hair and he strokes me like you’d pet a kitten. “No wonder you have become my favorite.”
The door springs open, and in breezes Mandy, swathed in a silky floral robe. She’s in the middle of braiding her long, flaming hair. Sun wrinkles crease onto her face when she lays eyes on the bed and realizes what she’s walked in on.
“I always love coming across a wife pleasing my husband. Is this why you haven’t requested me in almost a week, Leader?”
He chuckles, caressing my hair.
I’m supposed to keep pleasuring him. I’m supposed to pretend I’m not being talked about in the most degrading ways. My eyes squeeze shut and I fill my mouth with him, squashing down the nausea that rises up.
Recent times have made me learn how.
I’ve had to adapt in order to keep going. Keep counting the days.
I’m able to close my eyes and disappear into my head long enough for it to be over, repeating prayers to God. I’m still able to feel what’s being done to my body and the velvety texture of the Leader’s penis or taste the salty, slimy flavor of his seed.
But none of it registers.
Except when his name’s spoken.
“You sound jealous, my lovely wife.”
