Page 76 of If You Go
Brenden bites down on my lip gently, bringing me back to reality and he pulls away. “What do you want to do with him, Siren?”
“I want him to hurt like he hurt me.” It’s all I say. It’s all I have to say, because he knows what I mean.
Brenden’s eyes are filled with warmth as he reaches into his pocket, pulling out a black, textured pocket knife, before flicking it open. “I sharpened it just for you,” he says, handing it to me handle-first.
“Thank you,” I smile up at him, leaning in for another kiss, not getting carried away this time. At that moment, Gavin decides to speak for the first time since arriving here.
“Please, Surry. You know I always loved you. You know I was only doing what was best for you.”
“Best for me? Oh, silly, stupid, Gavin. I’m not killing you. Do you see this on my forehead?” Re-purposing the words he said to me in the warehouse, I point to the long scar that goes from my eye up to my hairline. “I am going to give you one of these, and one of all the rest of the scars I now have because of you.”
Gavin whimpers as I move to straddle him, sitting down on his lap and grabbing a fistful of hair. I yank his face down to look me in the eyes. His eyes are dull and glassy. He knows this is a lost cause, but he can’t help but continue to whine for forgiveness. I guess he did still have a shred of humanity in him, realizing your own mortality will do that, I suppose.
“Do you remember when I dropped that plate all those years ago, and you got so angry you took one of the pieces of the ceramic and cut my face as a reminder to not fuck up?” Gavin shakes his head vigorously, but not in ano I don’t rememberway, more of ano don’t do thisway.
“Well, I do.”
I take the blade and press deep into his eyebrow, feeling the initial resistance before the skin gives way with a soft pop. Blood wells instantly, thick and dark crimson, as I drag the knife upward into his hairline. The skin and shallow muscle on his forehead part like wet paper, revealing glistening layers of pink and red beneath. A warm spray mists my fingers as the knife cuts deeper, until the blade scrapes against something solid—the unmistakable grating sensation of steel against skull, white bone visible in the widening valley of the wound.
I nearly gag at the feeling, but then I see the blood begin to pool in his eye. Disgusting, yes. But I can still feel the way I felt when it wasmyblood pooling inmyeye. The panic I felt at being blinded, and the sheer volume of pain.
Gavin's scream erupted like a siren the instant my blade bit into his face—a high, animal like sound that clawed at the walls. His voice broke when I paused, his chest heaving in ragged gasps, sweat beading where blood wasn't. Then when I finally withdrew the knife, a different sound altogether—a wet, gurgling yell that bubbled up from somewhere deeper, more primal, as if the pain had finally registered in some ancient part of his brain.
And so I continued, reminding him of each one of my injuries that he inflicted upon me, covering him from waist to forehead with fresh cuts to mimic the scars I have had to cover with my beautiful tattoos. I don’t touch the tattoo on his chest, leaving that intact, despite the scars I possess on my chest. Instead, I make similar length cuts along his shoulders to make up for those.
Once he is covered, I finally stand and remove myself from his lap, and kneel before him.
“Remember all those times that I was forced to kneel for you, only for you to rape me? Or let your friends rape me?” Gavin shakes his head, full on sobbing now, each cut tearing more and more distress from his throat.
I look to Brenden, “Help me get his pants off.” Brenden gives me a weird look but asks no questions. Together we lift his hips and pull down his jeans and boxers. I take the knife and run the sharp point from just below the tattoo, all the way to where his pants used to sit lightly drawing blood along the way. I stand and begin to pull my own pants down.
“What are you-” Brenden begins, until he sees me pointing at the large smiley face scar that goes from hip to hip. A puckered pink scar, slightly curving down as it travels across my lower stomach, from hip bone to hip bone. He steps back, letting me carry on without further question.
“See this Gavin?” But he doesn’t look. Brenden walks up, and grabs Gavin by the back of his neck, forcing him to look at me. “See this one? This one you never got to see until earlier tonight when you raped me, again.” Brenden freezes, his eyes meeting mine in feral distress. Like a mother animal learning someone hurt her young. I just shake my head. Now is not the time. I can tell him later. Because I now know that I am ready. Ready to be open. Ready to tell him everything.
“Because it was the night I went to the hospital after you and your friends raped me for hours and hours. All this time, you wanted an heir. You thought that if all of them fucked me and filled me with their disgusting cum, that I wouldfinallyget pregnant. But little did you know, Iwaspregnant that night.”
I pause, letting the information sink in. Gavin’s face is one of horror. Once I know he understands, I pull my pants back up, and let my shirt fall back into place. I take a deep breath beforeI continue speaking. This is only the second time I will have said these words aloud. And the first time I said them, was to the magnificent man helping me torture the one who did this to me. Brenden looks at me, his face morphing from anger to pride, and nods.
“That scar, Gavin, is from my emergency hysterectomy. You see,” I begin to pace in front of him, watching as his eyes roam my body and his cock becomes harder as he stares at me.
“You all raped me so violently, and for so long, you caused a miscarriage and tore my vagina nearly beyond repair. It was why I was bleeding so heavily.”
I pause my pacing, his eyes on my breasts, and his cock pointing directly at me now.
“Because the trauma was so bad, and then the miscarriage, I began to hemorrhage. I lost so much blood, I died on the table at one point. But the doctors, not knowing I had wished I had stayed dead instead of being forcibly revived, had to make a choice. Remove my entire uterus and cervix to stop the bleeding, or let me remain dead.”
I stop pacing and look him in the eyes. I want him to feel how I felt. I want him to hurt like I hurt. He took my opportunity to be a mother. He ruined my body. And while I am thankful to be where I am and who I am today, it is still. His. Fault.
“They took my uterus. Never allowing me to have children in the future. Never letting me fulfill my dream of becoming a mother. So, now I think it’s your turn. To let you bleed, and wish you were dead.”
Gavin groans now, the look of fear in his eyes clashing with his erection. I kneel before him again, his dick too close to my face for me to think.
“Actually, I think we should deal with this first. What do you think Brenden?” I say, pointing the knife to his disgusting dick.
“That, my love, is a fantastic idea. Here, use my gloves. I don’t want you to have to touch that thing ever again.” The look of disgust on Brenden’s face seeing the erection is nearly comical.
I take the offered gloves and slide them slowly onto each hand, extending the excruciating wait for Gavin as he shifts in the chair violently, doing everything he can to get away. But it’s useless. And he knows it.
