Page 61 of His Queen

He starts toward me, and I instinctively jerk back, wishing I would melt into the wall.

“Relax, birdie. I just had my dick sucked by one of the new girls, so our playtime will have to wait until later.” As the giant grin on his face appears, I get flashes of what it would look like peeled off with my own bare hands.

Nunzio snaps his fingers, and one of his men places a stool next to me. As he sits down, his vile scent invading my space, a wave of nausea crashes over me. Maybe if I had eaten anything, I might be able to vomit.

His fingers fly over his phone screen, and he holds it out for me to look at.

At first, it’s nothing but blank, and for a moment, I wonder if it’s even on. But lights burst through the darkness, and I’m there, lying on the mattress, sleeping. Nunzio has been recording me all this time. Watching me. Rewatching the times he…hurt me. Did he watch it while he got his dick sucked earlier? The thought sickens me. My mouth is too dry to swallow, but I can taste bile in the back of my throat, and I’m barely able to hold it down.

On the footage, it doesn’t look like I woke up when the guard walked in, too exhausted to realize what was happening. And not knowing what’s about to happen.

“This is where it gets good,” Nunzio says, smiling.

My throat closes as I watch the guard grab me by the hair and jerk me up. My face is bruised, hair dirty, and my naked body is covered in smears of blood.

That’s not me. It can’t be me. I don’t know who that is. I hardly recognize that woman at all.

I want to shut my eyes when the guard shoves me on my back and has me in a chokehold, but my curiosity holds it there, unable to look away. I have to know what happened even if my mind refuses to remember.

There’s no sound, but my lips are parted. Am I screaming? Am I begging him? Pleading?

Oh, God, I feel sick to my stomach.

My hands are on his wrist, trying to claw it off me, but it doesn’t look like I’m succeeding.

“Watch,” Nunzio says, moving closer, and I inch back, fear coursing through me.

The guard is fumbling with his belt, his pants, about to pull out his…oh, sweet Jesus.

“Watch, here it comes.”

I clutch my knees to my chest and start to rock as the video continues to play, the guard still choking me, reaching into his pants, his thick fingers still clamped around my throat. Somehow, I can feel it. I can feel his rough hand on my skin, his clothes scratching against my naked body. Why can I feel it, yet I can’t remember any of it?

Then I see it, my hand seemingly taking on a life of its own, snaking around his side and grabbing the knife. Before my mind can process what’s happening, the blade is already lodged in his exposed neck, blood gushing out, splattering on my face. I can smell it. Metallic. Iron. Blood. I’m not even there, but I can smell the stench.

Nausea grabs hold of me violently, my stomach clenched and back arching as I start to retch, seeing nothing but visions of red.

“Oh, my sweet birdie. We need to get some food inside you.” Nunzio’s hand is on my back, his skin like scales on my flesh, and I bolt to the other side of the room, my whole body shaking as I try to process this.

“It’s okay,” he says with a gentle voice that doesn’t fool me. “You just need to eat. I’m sure killing a man has taken a lot out of you, so you need to gather your strength.”

“For what? So I have enough strength to fight you while you rape me?” The words burn like acid on my tongue. “As you said, my fight turns you on.”

“What can I say?” He shrugs, shaking his head with the devil’s grin on his ugly face. “I have a fetish for girls who fight me. But you, there’s something special about you. You feeling me inside you while screaming for me to stop, squirming beneath me, kicking and cursing. I get off on it.”

“You’re sick.”

“I won’t deny it. But you know what else I am?” He takes a step closer, and I lift my chin in defiance. “In. Control.”

There’s nothing but amusement on his face, his eyes vibrant with evil intent. My mind is screaming at me to stop fighting, to submit and become soulless. Nunzio won’t want me, then. He won’t waste his time on me when I’m no longer putting up a fight. But I can’t do it. I can’t convince myself to give up. It’s as if giving up is more challenging to do than surviving.

Nunzio bites his bottom lip, assessing me like he wants to know my thoughts. Like he needs to know what I’m thinking.

“Go get my birdie here some soup,” he orders over his shoulder at his men. “Make it fast.”

The nine-to-five Joe nods and walks out, leaving Baldie behind to what? Protect Nunzio? From who? Me? Coward.

“Let’s get some color back in those cheeks of yours,” Nunzio says.

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