Page 238 of Broken by my Bully

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Then the metal chain attached to it.

The padlock securing both.

“No!” I try to yank at the chain, but when I throw my head back, Ezra is standing over me with a snarl on his face, the chain wrapped around his fist.

“Every bitch needs a collar. Every bitch needs to knowher place.”

I whip my head to the side.

Melissa. Hands on her mouth. Eyes like saucers. Why isn’t she helping me? She runs forward, but someone grabs her arms, drags her back.

“Yours is on your knees, eating from a bowl like the trailer trash bitch you are.”

Ezra plants a foot on my ass and shoves me onto my face. There’s a rattle, a clank, and sudden pressure around my neck.

“Eat your fucking dinner, bitch,” he grates. He puts out his foot, and there’s a metal scraping by my knees.

I look down, staring at the bowl full of wet dog food.

But I don’t smell anything. It should stink. Pet food always smells bad.

Am I dreaming?

Nightmaring?

What. Is. Happening?

“Eat it, bitch!” he yells, grabbing the back of my head and shoving me down.

And then he’s gone. And I’m tumbling, rolling. Body paint glows, and someone’s grabbing my arms. I hear thumping behind me as the DJ helps me to my feet, his eyes wide, angry, confused.

“Go,” he says, pointing. “Just go!”

…scat, bitch…

That voice propels me more than the DJ’s command. That voice, buried so deep, so far, so way way way way back it’s dusty and dry and powdery and I don’t recognize it anymore because I haven’t heard it inso fucking long.

Thump.

Thump.

Thump.

My heart?

The music?

No.

I swing my head around, knowing, feeling him close.

Kai is on top of Ezra. Straddling him.

Elbow rising, falling.

Rising. Falling.

As he beats his brother’s face in.

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