Page 23 of Depravity

My body protests, my head feels like it’s going to explode from the blinding headache, and between my thighs there’s an awful ache that can only mean one thing.

“You ber ber bastard.” I hiss.

“What did you say?”

“You her heard me,” I can’t hold back the hate, I can’t hold back the shame too as it erupts through my veins like a seismic flow. “You rape, raped me. You fer, fer, fucking raped mer, me.”

His hand slams my face down, forcing me into the velvety soft sheets that feel so out of place with this entire scene. “I saved you.” He snarls, like he thinks he’s the actual messiah.

I try to protest but no words can come out, and within seconds I’m fighting for oxygen.

“Are you going to be reasonable?” He says right into my ear while my legs jerk out, while my limbs lash out in some desperate, futile attempt at survival. “Promise you’ll behave, and I’ll let you go.”

I couldn’t even say those words if I wanted to from the pressure he’s asserting. A scream seems to be ringing in my ears, like my blood is boiling. I’m going to pass out. I’m going to die if he doesn’t let up. But if I do that, what will he do to me then? Would he degrade me further? Of course he would.

Dots prick at the darkness behind my eyelids. Fear takes over everything as I begin to succumb to this inevitable conclusion, and then his grip relents. Those nails stop digging so forcefully into my scalp and I’m turned over and put on my back while he stares down at me.

Seconds pass. His eyes hold mine captive as I regain my breath, and I can tell that he’s proud of himself and not ashamed in the slightest.

“Let’s clear a few things up.” He says in that smug tone that tells me he thinks he’s beaten me. “I hold all the power here. All I have to do is call your grandfather, tell him where you are, and you’ll be at Oblivion before I can even finish describing how much you begged to be fucked.”

“But I di, didn’t…” I stammer. I didn’t do it. I didn’t want him. I don’t want him. I don’t… my heart starts slamming into my chest harder and harder. My breath seems to catch, and I already recognise the signs even as it sinks in how utterly fucked I really am, how helpless I am, how this man has already ruined me.

“No one will care, Brynn,” He states. “It’s my word against yours.”

The walls seem to cave in. The ridiculously oversized bed seems to collapse in on me and I’m drowning, suffocating, struggling even more than I was barely a minute ago.

My chest starts heaving uncontrollably and I curl my hands into fists. I hate that I’m showing more weakness now, revealing more of my secrets to a man who won’t hesitate to use them against me but it’s too late to stop it, too late to do anything.

Panic takes over everything.

Sheer terror grips me far harder than his hands have ever done.

I can’t breathe. I can’t fucking breathe.

Maybe some small part of him feels regret, maybe he does have some sort of conscience after all because his face softens, his hold becomes more caring and then he picks me up, cradles me in his arms and soothes me.

“I won’t do that. It’s okay, I’ve got you, I’ve got you. You’re safe now.”

Safe? Is that a joke? In what world am I safe?

I let out a wail, a broken awful sound that only gets worse as it continues. Bile twists in my stomach at the realisation that he’s touching me again after what he did and for one very real moment, I’m convinced I’m going to vomit everywhere. But what would he do then? How would he react if I threw up over him? Would he beat me, or console me more? Either option is just as bad.

“I’m not going to hurt you.” He says gently, “As long as you’re a good girl, then you have nothing to fear.”

That’s a lie. Another lie. I’m here, alone with a man who almost certainly raped me. Even if I do somehow miraculously manage to get away, I can’t go back home, I can never return home now. No, I’d have to run away, but where could I even go?Sure that had been my plan, but it was a long term one. I wasn’t so stupid as to think I could just walk out the door, skip down the road and everything would be okay. No, I know what the world is, I’ve seen how cruel it can be. To run, to throw myself on its mercy with no money, with no place to hide, it’s practically suicide.

As if my mind is so preoccupied with my potential fate, I still, and he clearly takes that as some sort of show of submission.

“That’s better.” He murmurs, cupping my face.

“What, what do you wer want with me?” I stammer. He’s already gotten what he wants, I don’t understand why I’m here. I don’t understand why Giselle didn’t just haul my grandfather into the room while I was still drugged and defenceless?

“You’re mine, Brynn.” He says, as if that’s an answer.

“Yours?” I frown.

“God, I’ve wanted you for so long, so long.” His fingers lace through my hair, tilting my head back further. “You’re so beautiful, do you know that? So fucking beautiful.”

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