Page 58 of Black Wedding

Sadly, my lungs can’t cope with that, and a dry, hacking cough starts. Tears stream down my eyes as my lungs begin to burn, and it feels like I am drowning with no air. Vinnie drops to his knees beside my head and gives me some water from the bottle he brought in earlier. He only lets me have a couple of sips this time, but it’s enough to stop the hacking.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Luther asks, looking at Vinnie with disgust.

“I don’t want her to die before you get your chance with her,” he rushes out, sounding a little unsure as to whether or not that was the answer Luther was looking for.

The tension in the air is palpable, and when Luther finally smiles, Vinnie lets out the huff of breath he was holding. Luther then wastes no time in getting back to what he was doing.

Using his cold, calloused fingers, he parts my pussy lips before sliding a finger down my slit and then back up. He gets no response, and I know my pussy is as dry as the Sahara desert, but that doesn’t stop him. He prods around at the top of my hood; I’m assuming he is trying to find my clit, and failing. Giving up quickly, he slides his finger back down the slit again before roughly shoving two fingers into my hole.

I cry out in pain as his fingers roughly penetrate me, and the sensation of skin on skin, chafing and ripping is excruciating. “You like that, don’t you, bitch? I told you she would. All bitches like it rough. You just gotta show them who’s boss,” Luther says proudly to Vinnie, who is trying to look anywhere but at the assault happening in front of him.

Obviously, I don’t bother to reply. Luther is living in his own little world if he thinks there is any chance of me enjoying this abuse. However, he continues to pump his fingers rough and deep into my pussy. Each time it feels like a new part of my inside is tearing, and I have actually reached the point where I am begging to get wet just so a bit of lubrication would make this hurt less.

“Tell me you like it, bitch!” he shouts. Before I have a chance to answer, he takes his free hand and simultaneously slaps his hand on my nipples, one after the other. It stings like fuck, but when he hits the second one, where the possibly broken ribs are, the pain is immense. Black spots start to invade my vision, and the whole situation seems so far away.

I know I need to stay away, to fight, but I can’t. So, why not let the darkness take me, so I don’t even have to know what he forces me to endure.

Just as the darkness is starting to take me, Luther slaps me awake again. “Is this what you want?” he asks as he takes my hair roughly into his hand, fists it tightly before pulling my chin against my chest so that I can look down at what he is doing to me.

The first thing I notice is my body has various shades of bruising. There is blood and dirt smeared all over me, and I’m covered in cuts. I try to ignore my exposed tits, hating how he has pulled on the nipples until they are taut. When my gaze finally reaches my open legs and waiting pussy, I see that Luther has taken his fingers out, but he is now preparing his cock.

Sat between my legs, Luther opens his jeans, pulls out his cock, and strokes it with his free hand. He didn’t have much to work with before, but it appears to be growing a bit. His under average-sized penis says an awful fucking lot about Luther. No wonder he is so fucking angry; he is overcompensating.

Apparently, because my body doesn’t know whether it is coming or going, I didn’t exactly think of that last comment. Instead, I voiced it out loud. Luther doesn’t take too kindly to having someone he is about to fuck insult the size of his cock. Without hesitation, he slaps me again, and before I have time to register the pain from that impact, he begins hitting my stomach.

Pain explodes throughout my body, and darkness begins to consume me. With every punch, it becomes harder to breathe. Those telltale spots float into my vision once more, and I’m sure I start hearing things. My imagination is making me think things are happening that aren’t, and I am so confused that my brain quite literally hurts.

I am imagining Liam bursting in here to rescue me, him taking me far away from here. I pray to a God I haven’t spoken to in a long time, one I am made to talk to at religious holidays only. Most of that is because my mother wants to keep up appearances with the church ladies, but now, while I am at my closest to death, I reach out to him. I pray for him to save me, to help Liam to find me. But most of all, I pray that I don’t die. I want to live. I want to live my life with Liam. Unfortunately, at this moment, that is not looking likely.

I feel like my brain is playing tricks on me, that the lights flashing in front of my eyes are more than just the manifestation of my pain. A loud but distant bang sounds, my brain tells me it sounds like gunshots, and that’s when I know I must be hallucinating. I hear a commotion and look over at the door, struggling to keep my eyes open.

A large dark figure stands in the doorway, and I can’t help but smile. In my final moments, my brain shows me what it looked like the first time I met Liam. When he burst through my bedroom door, blocking the doorway the same as now. Only the last time actually happened. I hear noises from behind me. I know it’s Vinnie, and I try to look behind me to make sure he is okay, forcing my brain to concentrate.

“No...don’t shoot...I’m not the enemy. I swear, I have been t-trying to help her,” Vinnie sobs, and that’s when my brain seems to clear for a moment. This is real.

The realisation that the figure in the doorway really is Liam gives me some renewed hope. I try to call out to him, but I can’t. My breathing is coming in short gasps.

“BREE!” I hear Liam shouting my name as a sharp pain pierces through my abdomen. I look down slightly and see that Luther has plunged his knife right into my stomach on the right side. A piercing scream I didn’t know I could produce leaves my body, almost like I have no control anymore and am just watching from a distance. Then as soon as the pain starts to settle, the darkness begins to descend.

My eyes close, and I hear a gunshot followed by feet pounding closer to me. I can hear Liam, his voice and his sobs. His fingers tentatively touch my body, but as soon as I wince, he backs away. I try to open my eyes, to talk, but I can’t. Coldness slides all over my body, and numbness spreads all over. Liam’s voice as he shouts for an ambulance and his sobs feel like they are becoming distant.

I try to fight, to let him know I am here. I want him to know I am fighting to be with him, but it’s hard. I feel him gently slide his arm under my neck to curl my body up against his. The warmth from his body against my advancing cold and clammy skin feels incredible. I feel his breath against my cheek and wetness from his tears as they leak onto my face.

I want to see him, to take away his pain, but breathing has become too hard.

Everything has become too hard.

The gloominess cascades over me, and this time I can’t stop it.

“I love you, Bree. Please don’t leave me.” Those are the last words I hear before my body gives in, and I can’t fight anymore.

The world goes black.

Finding the right house is easy. Vinnie did a fantastic job of leading us directly to it. The piece of paper he hid had the road name on it. After that, it was easy to find the house since he left the tiara hidden outside in a bush. It didn’t take us long to come up with a plan; we are ready to storm.

The man Paddy sent to collect the note said that Jimmy and Vernon left about ten minutes ago and have yet to return. That’s when we realise the time has come for them to ring and set their plan in motion, but no way am I waiting for them to plan my trap. We are getting my girl out of there before there’s any chance she could get hurt.

I do feel some level of reassurance, given that Jimmy’s video made it very clear that the plan was not to harm Bree in any way, but that doesn’t mean that she couldn’t get caught up in the crossfire. I want an ambulance to arrive on-site as soon as we breach the house. Not a minute before, and for fuck sake, no sirens. It’s better to say they are not needed than to waste valuable time if someone does get injured.

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