Page 83 of Twisted Bonds
"I do love her. You can't dictate who I can have feelings for. I'm not you; I won't make her do anything she doesn't want to do," Brant states but then sighs after a brief silence. "Except for that. I can't let her leave until she sees she's better off right here with me."
I roll my head, so my forehead is pressed to the door, and close my eyes. He's deranged if he thinks I will ever pick him over Beau or Bain. I've never felt anything other than friendship for him nor given him a reason to think otherwise—have I? I try to think back, but no matter how hard I try, I can't think of any moment or conversation where it could have been misconstrued.
"Just don't worry about what's happening here. You have enough going on over there," Brant states, getting annoyed. But then his tone doesn't sound too confident when he says, "Don't fuck with me, Serg."
I jerk back from the door and stare at the wooden structure as though it's just bitten me. "Sergio?" I whisper out loud, "But—he's in prison."
"You're bluffing. You're too busy with your new flavor of the month. Goodbye." Brant's footfalls get louder, and I quickly rush to the bed.
I hear the key and then the resounding click of the lock. I should rush Brant and take him by surprise, but that would only work for so long, and then he would be on me.No, I need to play it smart.
The door opens, and he stops just inside the doorway, staring at me, slightly startled. "Hey, how are you feeling?"
I look down at my hands clenched together and pretend to pick at my cuticles, "I'm fine, I guess. I'm just a little bored."
I try to make myself sound meek. My voice cracks, and I notice the slight shake of my hands. There is only one other time I've shaken like this, and it was when I was coming down from the X I was addicted to.Am I going through withdrawals again?
When I look back up at Brant, he's looking at my hands, so I grip them together. "What have you been giving me the last few months—to keep me sedated, I mean?"
He glances at me and shrugs as he shuts the door. "It doesn't really matter. It did what I needed it to do…"
"It does matter," I whisper angrily. "You knew I've been clean, and yet you drugged me up for two months straight." When he says nothing, I continue, "Did you—you know—do anything to me?"
He dares roll his eyes at me. "Do you honestly think I would violate you, Ry…"
"Don't call me that. I don't want to hear that name anymore," I tell him, not hiding my irritation at his use of my nickname. He lost the right to call me that.
Snickering, he walks over and stands in front of me, crossing his arms at his chest as he looks down his nose at me. "You know, I've been nothing but a friend to you these past few months. Yeah, I drugged you so you wouldn't hurt yourself, and yet you're still pissed at me?"
"Brant, you can't kidnap someone and drug them, keeping them from their loved ones for two whole months." I try to reason with him.
He gets up in my face this time, leaning his built frame over me and placing his knuckles on the bed, making me lean back. "Would you rather I keep you tied to the bed while you're awake? Maybe I should have done what the D'Angelo brothers did to you." He gently tucks some hair behind my ear. "You seem to have liked that—being their whore and all."
My hand comes up, and a loud slapping noise echoes through the room, accompanied by my hand stinging as it makes contact with his cheek. "How dare you, Brant? I thought we were friends—I trusted you…" My voice trails off with disgust.
He grips my wrist. "I have been very patient with you, Ryan. Do you know how hard it was knowing that you were letting Huntley whip you in order to deal with your demons? Tell me, do you tell your victims to deal with theirs like you do?"
Glaring at him, I yank at my hand, but he isn't letting go. "Not that it's any of your business, but the whip ismypreference. The only say Bain has is how hard and how many lashings I get. Apparently,he'sthe only one who understands me." Pulling downward, I try to free my appendage again, but Brant only pushes me to my back. "What are you doing? Get off me!" Fear grips me at the thought of what he may be thinking about doing.
Shouting an expletive when I bring my knee up, clipping his junk, he only glares as he holds firmly onto me. "If I was going to take you against your will, I would have fucked you morning, noon, and night while you were drugged. I could have fucked you during the times I bathed you and after changing your Depends," he says as he rubs himself against me to show me how hard he is. "I will confess, I may have pinched a nip or two,” he admits and drags his tongue across his bottom lip. “I might have also rubbed a little too many times while cleaning that cute little pussy of yours, but I never fucked you or entered you in any way."
I'm panting hard, trying to take in enough breath as he crushes me with his weight. When I bring my other hand up to push him off, he capturesthat one, too, placing it in his hand holding my other one. Brant then runs his hand down the side of my body as he watches my expression.
"You know, I can see why everyone is gaga over you, Ryan. You are truly amazing, inside, and out. You make me want to bring out a beast inside myself that I never even knew existed until I met you."
"Don't do this Brant," I whisper as his hand traces the hem of the shirt I'm wearing. "This isn't you; you're not a monster. Youtake downthe monsters!"
"I know I'm not a monster, but you are bringing one out in me, Ryan," he states as I feel him sliding my shirt up. "Why can't you just give me a chance? I can help you get over everything that has ever happened to you. I can love you better than any Huntley or D'Angelo ever could if you'd let me."
My eyes burn with unshed tears. I won't give him my tears; he doesn't deserve them. "You were my friend and that meant more to me than anything else. Now, after this, you're nothing to me. You’re just like the rest of them who have taken from me without my permission. You're just like the ring leaders to the skin trade…"
"Oh really?" he asks as his face darkens. "Then maybe I should live up to who you're portraying me to be." He slips his hand into my panties, and I feel his fingers run up and down my slit.
"Don't do it. I’m begging you, Brant. Don't be that monster…uh!"
I grunt as he plunges multiple fingers into me at once. I can't stop the tears from falling at this point. Brant's violation is so much worse than the D'Angelos’, and even Brock's. His eyes burn into mine as if he's waiting for the moment I begin to enjoy his intrusion, but instead of turning my head, so he can’t see it, I lift my eyes to the ceiling. What I do want him to see are the tears and the hurt he is causing me and that I'm not giving him any of my time or anything he wants. He will not get my submission.
"Fuck, you're so much tighter than I thought you'd be. Tell me you don't like this, Ryan." His thumb circles my clit, but I feel nothing; my body has no reaction. He pulls his fingers out and brings them to his lips, tasting me before he moans, "So fucking exquisite."
