Page 93 of The Devil's Redemption

This goes on for a few minutes before Jasper speaks again.

“I can’t take it anymore, princess,” he tells me, but I have no idea what he’s talking about.

Suddenly, I’m getting tossed into the pile of hay in the corner as Jasper unzips his pants and pushes them down past his knees. My stomach turns at the sight.

How can one person bethissick and twisted?

Fighting to keep memories of him out of my mind, I do my best to think of…

Blade.

Fuck. My heart breaks all over again.

Please, God. Please let him survive this.

But the way he was just laying there on the ground… It’s hard to have faith when the love of your life is dying, merely feet away from you, and you can’t do anything to help him

With his gun pointed at me, Jasper begins to jerk himself off. I close my eyes so I don’t have to watch him.

“Open your eyes, princess. In fact, open your legs for me, too. I want to watch you touch yourself.”

“No,” I tell him in an unexpected burst of defiance.

He cocks his gun again and presses it against my forehead. I’m terrified, but the only thing I can think is if Blade is dead, then he may as well kill me, too.

When I don’t move, he kicks my legs apart with enough force to send a sharp pain from my ankle down into my foot. I instantly worry that he may have broken something. I cry out in pain and try to reach for it, but Jasper kicks me again, this time in my stomach. I fall to my side in the fetal position. My still healing ribs, scream with pain.

Then he uses his foot to roll me over onto my back before standing over me, still jerking himself off. Disgusted by the idea of him coming on me again, my stomach begins roiling, and I feel like I’m going to puke. But it’s better than him being inside of me. I don’t move. I don’t want to be kicked again. And I know if he asks me to do something else right now, I probably would just so I wouldn’t have to feel any more pain.

I listen to the gunfire going off. They seem to be firing less now. Or there’s more time between shots, at least. When I focus on Jasper again, I can tell he’s getting close because his breathing intensifies, and his hooded eyes are unfocused.

Then they’re closed.

Then open again, but only for a second.

My mind screams at me to take advantage of him not being able to see.

Don’t be stupid, Sasha.

He has a gun, and you have to pull the door to this stall to open it. I’ll never be able to get out of here before he grabs hold of me or shoots me. But I can’t not try.

Decided, I wait until he closes his eyes again. It takes a second, but as soon as I see his eyelids lower, I’m up off of the hay.

It hurts.

My ribs. My ankle. My heart.

I shove him to the side of the stall behind the door, and because his pants are around his lower legs, he falls over.

“What thefuck?” he shouts as I pull the stall door open.

I hear it hit him as he struggles to get up. When the gun goes off, I wait for the pain to hit me. Surely the thin, rotting wood of the door isn’t strong enough to stop a bullet. But I don’t feel anything. I don’t waste time feeling relieved as I hobble across the barn as quickly as possible. I stick to the rear because I don’t want Rooster to see me. Ducking between two stacks of hay bales, I crouch down into the shadows. Finally able to, I put my bra back into place as I listen for any nearby sounds. I hear his boots scraping across the dirty floor, and that’s when I realize the gunfire has stopped.

Why? What’s happening?

Did they shoot Rooster? Did Rooster take all of them out?

Jasper’s footsteps are getting closer now, and I hold my breath. I can see him between the jagged pieces of hay sticking out from the bale that I’m hidden behind. I pray he keeps walking. Please don’t find me.

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