Page 40 of Freeing Souls

Holding the gun to his head, he says, “I’m granting you mercy by taking your life now. But I hope you know it is your fault your daughter will suffer for the rest of her life, just like her motherdid. Your daughter will experience what you did to her mother and learn what a monster you really are.”

Bang.

There’s blood everywhere.

I think I’m screaming, but I feel so…so empty, I can’t be sure what’s happening. Hands grab me, and I fight them off.Don’t touch me.

I can’t breathe—I can’t think. This is a nightmare. I’m living the nightmare all over again.

It’s not just my dad dead in front of me—it's my mom too.

My parents.

Dead.

Right before my eyes.

I can’t do this anymore. I quit.

“No penetration.” A voice echoes through my mind as I fall numb.

I’m dragged somewhere else and thrown down onto a dirty mattress. Hands touch me and rip at my clothes until I’m naked. “Fuck me. God, I wish I could fuck your ripe young pussy. I bet it would strangle my cock so well.” A man groans in my ear as he licks along my jawline and cups my pussy with his hand, aggressively rubbing his palm against it.

I shut my eyes and think of my guys. Ryker, Cayden, Grayson. Their touches. The way they love me. Hold me. Make love to me.

Grayson’s soft, caring caresses.

Someone pinches my nose until I’m forced to open my mouth, and a cock is shoved between my lips, making me gasp and try to pull away, but more hands hold me still as they taunt and laugh.

Block it out. Ryker’s playful touches. Cayden’s loving aggression.

Cum explodes in the back of my throat, and I gag and hurl all over the cock still partially in my mouth. Cum and vomit soaks the both of us as he pulls away cursing, and someone slaps me. “Nasty fucking slut.”

The hands release me, and I crumble into a heap on the mattress, still refusing to open my eyes. Keeping them closed means I’m not really here. I’m home and everything is okay. None of this has happened.

“Since she wants to be a nasty whore, let’s assist her.” One of them chuckles as multiple streams of warm liquid cover my entire body, and the stench of urine becomes more pungent.

Seconds, minutes, maybe even hours later, I lay frozen solid on the ground. The tears have long since dried, and I can’t find anything inside me to move or fight, to keep going and figure out what to do next.What’s the point?

My dad is dead. My mom is dead. My life is crumbling all over again. It feels as if I was given those few good years just to have them ripped away from me in one day.

“Oh my,” a soft voice murmurs. “Harley? Can you sit up, please? Daddy said I can help you get ready, but if we don’t move soon, the guards will get impatient and just hose you down.”

Blinking my eyes open, I glance up to find a girl around my age standing at the entrance to a cage where I must be. “Come now.” She smiles gently at me and holds a hand out. When I place my hand in hers, she says, “That’s it, lovely, let’s sit up now.”

Once she helps my tired and sore body stand on wobbly legs, she guides me to a door only a few feet away. It’s an all-white, sterile looking room with an open shower stall, a counter, toilet, and a small bed.

Glancing at the girl as she guides me to the shower stall, I take in her features that look oddly familiar. She has long, wavyauburn hair, with large hazel eyes and a heart-shaped face. Her features honestly couldn’t be more perfect. She doesn’t look like any of the victims we have saved. She seems so calm and content.

“Who are you?” I whisper, never taking my eyes off her as she swiftly moves, almost floating through the room, moving on her bare feet, in a light blue dress that ends above her knees.

As she looks for something in the cupboard by the sink, she says, “You may call me Zero. I will help you whenever requested.”

She turns back around and brings me a plastic water bottle that I chug down while she starts the shower. As I finish, I ask, “But what’s your real name?”

“Oh, well, I don’t have one like you and the others who come here do. I wish I did. Sometimes, I dream about what I would like to be named. But Daddy calls me girl or Zero.”

“Who’s Daddy?” I ask her as she guides me under the spray.

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