Page 25 of Leave Me Behind
Bradshaw leans forward and draws his KA-BAR. A real one. It’s a black military-grade knife meant for plunging into other human beings’ chests.
The blood drains from my face.
“Are you going to quit?” Bradshaw asks with no remorse in his voice. It’s clear he isn’t playing a prank, but I don’t let my resolve falter.
Rage returns, fueling my words. At this point, it’s fucking personal. “No. Now get the fuck off of me,” I demand.
If he’s fazed by my words he doesn’t show it. Jefferson kneels beside my head and Pete holds my ankles down firmly.
Terror spills into my chest and I shriek, “What are you—” Jefferson’s hands come down over my mouth, muffling any sound from escaping my lips.
Adrenaline rushes through me and I thrash against themhard.I fight for my life, for my next breath. They’re going to kill me? All because I won’t quit? What the hell is wrong with them? My attempt to escape is useless; they have me pinned like a lamb for slaughter. Bradshaw brings his knife back up, sliding the flat side of it down over the softness of my stomach, searing the cold steel across my skin.
I try bucking him off and crying for help, kicking my feet desperately. Then cold air meets my sternum and it freezes every fighting limb I have—the very blood in my veins too.
My breath is rapid, feral. Tears spill down the sides of my face as Bradshaw unzips my vest. He drags the knife down my shirt, cutting through the fabric and my sports bra with ease, exposing my breasts to the chilly night air. My nipples harden and horror settles deep into my bones.
I attempt to bite into Jefferson’s hand but his other one keeps my jaw shut tight. A muffled scream grows in my throat and I try once more to thrash as hard as I can. All their eyes are on my bare nipples. Shame floods me and I want to beat each of them senseless.
Why are they doing this? This is worse than anything Riøt ever did.
Tears make my vision blurry and my energy fades quickly. My mind is shutting off and going into survival mode.
I lie still and let my body go limp. My labored breathing is the only sound that rolls through the dark.
Bradshaw stares down at me with empty eyes. He doesn’t care what he’s doing to me or the impact this will have on mymental state. I keep my eyes locked with his, refusing to let go of the one thing I have left, my death glare.
He chuckles, brows pinching together as if he pities me.
“Still fighting? Damn, youarea tough one.” Bradshaw brings the edge of his dagger to my right side, to the sensitive flesh just under my breast. He pushes the sharp tip in and I scream out against Jefferson’s sweaty palm. The pain is a rush to my system but more than the pain, I feel Bradshaw’s tender hand squeezing my ribs to steady himself. His crotch over mine is too hot and suddenly the fear that laced my blood has turned into arousal.
This is so fucked up.
My scream turns to a moan and Bradshaw’s eyes catch mine, not missing a single detail of how my body responds to him and the pain. God, I hope the other two are too aloof to notice. I shouldn’t be turned on by this, no, I’mnotturned on by this. I bite my lower lip to quell the next rising moan.
Jefferson jolts and says, “Bones, you said we were just going to scare her. This is too far.” He looks uncertainly from Bradshaw to Pete.
Pete’s grip on my ankles falters. “You’re hurting her!” his voice sounds genuinely shocked and worried.Thank God for them not hearing the pleasure in my moans.
Bradshaw ignores them both, keeping his devilish eyes on me and glides the blade in a crescent motion agonizingly slow, following the shape of my breast. I writhe and buck my hips. The pain gives me a high while his lustful eyes, gripping hands, and swelling crotch set my nerves ablaze. He dips his head down, pulls his mask up only enough to bare his lips, and takes my nipple between his teeth before bringing his lips down on my flesh and pressing one lonesome kiss there.
He stops the incision at the tip of my sternum.
Tears fall down the sides of my temples from the pain and shame, but mostly from the cruelty of all three of them.
Hot blood warms my skin as it races down my side and pools in the dirt. Jefferson releases my mouth and shoves Bradshaw off me. “Goddammit,” Jefferson curses under his breath as he folds the vest back over my chest carefully to cover me up. His hands are trembling. He lifts me up quickly in his arms as if I weigh nothing and rushes me back to the base. As he carries my limp, tired body, I can only stare behind him at Bradshaw, who still watches me like an unfinished meal. I bet he’s smiling underneath that mask of his.
I bet he thinks he broke me.
nine
. . .
Bradshaw
“What the fuckis wrong with you?” Pete shoves me back against a tree and I let him. I’m still thinking about all the blood that spilled from her supple flesh a moment ago. The fire that lit her eyes and the way her thighs were rubbing together beneath me, trying so desperately to give herself a bit of relief.
Of course she liked that.Fuck. She’s messing with my head.
