Page 42 of Until I Break

“I have the only copy of that video, and it wasn’t entered into evidence. He reported to the hospital that it was an accident and self-inflicted,” Jasper says. “That video isn’t running, and honestly, the fucker deserves worse than a hot sauce enema. Nice choice, by the way. Bet he was shitting fire for days.”

“Why are we up here then?” I ask. “Couldn’t you have said all this at the office?”

“Not if I am charging you with simple assault,” he says. “Plus, I…”

“Detective,” a woman says, bursting in the door. I recognize her as his partner, and Julian and I both jump up.

“Where is she?” I bark. “Where the fuck is Eliza?”

“Calm down…” Jasper starts.

“She’s not at home,” Sergeant Detective Rachel Gunther says matter-of-factly. “Her phone is in her office. Her purse, car keys, wallet… it’s all there.”

The moment we realized that day that Eliza was being raped by Julian and she was not consenting, I felt my heart twist in pain… That was merely a tickle compared to what I feel right now.

“He took her,” I say before anger explodes out of me. “He fucking took her, and you fucking idiots helped him!”

“Calder,” Jasper says calmly.

“No,” I bite, pulling out my phone. I don’t know why I didn’t check the cameras before. I guess it’s because I didn’t even consider she would be fucking kidnapped from the house. I look through the notifications of when the front door opens and find it. Julian steps close as I play the saved segment, and rage settles in my body when I see Natalie at the door. Listening to her lure Eliza out of the house, Eliza hesitates halfway down the drive but continues… How the fuck didn’t we see it? How did we not put it together or even investigate why Natalie was with him that day in the club? Natalie is a money-grabbing whore, so wefigured she was just fucking around. We never saw any other connection…

“Come on,” I say to Julian, who is dead silent. His expression is unreadable, and I don’t know if he is going to cry or become murderous. Both, probably.

Me too…

Eighteen

Eliza

We have been atthis stupid cabin for hours now, and all he has done is lock me in the basement. I am going to wear a path into the floor pacing, but I can’t stop. Do the guys know I am missing? Were they ever in jail? How could I be so goddamn stupid? I didn’t trust Natalie before now, so why did I today?

When the basement door opens, I retreat back to the corner of the concrete prison. I know a punishment is coming. When I smell the waft of whiskey when he closes in on me, I know this is it. This is the part where he makes me beg to die. Everything that has happened over the last eight months is replaying in my head, and the weight of it all is too much. It hurts too much for me to take.

“On your knees,” Troy spits. I do as I am told and sink down to my knees and drop my gaze. Looking at him directly in the eyesis like challenging him. I’m not brave enough for that. “Suck my cock.”

“W-What?” I sputter.

“You heard me, whore. Suck my cock.” His voice is slurred, and he has no doubt been spending all this time drinking. This will either be good or bad… either way, I do as I am told. The second I put my mouth around his dick, he grabs my head and starts violently fucking my throat. This time, I can handle it. I learned so much about self-control with Julian, Calder, and Ryan… I just close my eyes and give it my all. I ignore the rancid taste of his unwashed body and suck as though my life depends on it, because it does. As I am taking this brutality, I am realizing I have an opportunity. I can be the whore he thinks I am and blow his goddamn mind. If I can do that, plus him being so damn drunk, he will pass out. If he does, I can run. We are deep in miles of forest, but I know they will find me.

Eventually, Troy moans and pushes down my throat as jets of come shoot down my throat, making me gag. “Fuck, Eliza,” he grunts when I finally swallow, and he pulls out of my mouth. “I’ve missed my dirty bitch. Have you missed me?”

“Yes,” I lie. I missed him as much as dogs miss fleas.

“You understand why you are going to be punished, yes?” he asks.

“Because I ran away,” I say. I don’t know if that’s what he wants to hear, but it will stroke his ego.

“And?”

“Because I let other men touch me,” I add.

“Three men. Eight months,” he says. “Never mind what they did to me. They humiliated me. Can you believe that?”

“What did they do?” I ask, playing dumb.

“Doesn’t matter,” he says dismissively. “Three men, eight months. That is eight lashings per man. Stand.”

I do as he says and stand. He pulls a collar out of his back pocket. When he puts it around my throat, metal spikes dig into my neck. I grit my teeth and hold back my verbal attacks as he starts ripping my clothes off until I am naked. “Go face the wall.”

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