Page 129 of Deliria

I want to tell her to stop, to tell her to fight. I don’t want any of these men looking at her, leering at her. But who the fuck am I to say such things? Who the fuck am I to suddenly be jealous, and of what? It’s not like she wants to be here; not like she’s choosing to do this. No, better she plays it safe, better she go forself-preservation than she does something stupid that ends up with her getting seriously hurt.

By my reckoning we have at least a few hours before the big event. I could be wrong. But then, why would Sidney risk arriving days early? We both just need to play our cards right and this time tomorrow, if there is a god, then we will be free of this, free of them.

Sydney and my brother sit down, lounging in the plump cushioned armchairs, watching every move she makes, discussing her, discussing her body, her breasts, her pussy too.

I turn my nose up, disgusted by it. God, I can’t wait to bury my knife in his throat. To rip out his oesophagus and watch as he slowly drowns on his own blood.

Scarlett stumbles, her legs wobble and she falls with her hands only just saving her from slamming face first into the polished floor.

“Get back up, whore.” Sydney orders.

“Leave her alone,” I growl.

She looks across at me, shakes her head and tries to stand. Only, she doesn’t have the strength.

“Wife…” Alexander says pointedly, lifting the revolver and aiming for her toes once more.

“Leave her alone,” I bellow. “Just fucking leave her alone,”

Alexander turns his eyes on me, his lips curling into a grin. “You want to play the hero, brother?” He taunts. “Alright then. I’d say the bitch has earned a rest.”

I don’t feel relief. Not from the tone of his voice. He’s planning something. He’s going todosomething.

Scarlett crawls back, crawls as far as she can get from them both, that is until one of the guards slams his boot into her back, holding her in place.

“What do you say we have a different kind of entertainment?” Alexander says to Sydney.

Sydney glances at us then back at him, “Like what?”

“Well, my dear wife might be too tired to play, but my brother, he’s in peak condition, wouldn’t you say?”

Sydney’s head turns, his eyes lock onto me and his lips stretch into a grin that goes from ear to ear. “Are you suggesting…?”

“Help yourself.” Alexander says, waving his hand before taking a sip of whiskey. “I obviously will not partake, but he’s yours to do as you like for a few hours.”

My stomach drops. I’m not the kind of man that fears anything and yet, I know what this is, what they’re hinting at.

I snarl, lashing out, doing my best to fight, despite the drugs keeping my body as good as useless. Scarlett may be playing it safe, but I sure as fuck am not.

“Hold him down,” Sydney instructs as he approaches.

It takes three men, three fucking men to hold my limbs, to pin me in place, despite the fact that my arms are still bound behind my back. I’m held down, pressed down, but I feel the moment Sydney starts touching me.

“Get the fuck off me,” I snarl.

“Now, now, Rafferty,” Sydney cooes. “You wanted the girl to have a little rest, how else did you expect us to amuse ourselves?”

“You fucking dare…” But he’s undoing my belt, yanking my jeans down, exposingme.

I growl out, unable to show any other form of protest. My face is pressed to the cold marble, my spit is pooling there, wet against my face as I take more and more breaths.

And as I’m held down, I tell myself that this isn’t a big deal. That no matter what happens in this moment, Scarlett has had it so much worse. She’s endured this for months, fucking months. What’s one moment compared to all that?

Maybe I deserve this, I deserve this pain. I deserve to feel what it’s like to be violated like this because this is what myfamily have done to her while I stayed here, under this roof, pretending it wasn’t happening, pretending it was all just part of the greater plan.

I shouldn’t look, I should keep my eyes on the floor, away from her face but I can’t stop myself. And I see the horror there, the absolute horror reflected in those beautiful blue irises.

Sydney places his hands on me, on my hips, digging his boney fingers into my muscles and he thrusts into me in one brutal push.

---