TORTURE ME_ The Bandits MC(60)

Tori fumbled with the edge of her sheet, picking at it with her nails.



“Do you know who that princess was?” Fiona asked.



Tori shook her head, eyes flicking up to look at Fiona for a single moment before going back down to her own lap.



“It was me,” Fiona said softly. “And you.”



Tori was very still for a long moment, frozen in place like a photograph, before a single, choked-off noise left her throat. A single sob—that was it. The next second, Tori’s hand flew forward and grabbed Fiona’s. Gage could see, even from across the room, that she was clutching it as hard as she could, holding onto it like a lifeline.



“Yeah, there you are; that’s the girl I knew you were,” Fiona mumbled encouragingly, bringing her other hand forward to cover Tori’s. “So strong.”



“Am I?” Tori asked, her voice hoarse. Gage wondered if she had ever spoken while she was being held captive. It was as if her throat was relearning how to speak.



“You are,” Fiona said, sounding more confident and secure in her statement than Gage had ever heard her. “You’re like me.”



Gage felt a weird sensation in his chest, like a painful bubble that grew in diameter the more he looked at Fiona holding the battered teenager’s hand. She would make a good mother, he suddenly thought out of nowhere. The thought stung him like he’d been burned; he physically reared back and hit the wall behind his head, causing both Fiona and Tori to look over at him for a second before turning to stare at each other again. That’s a stupid thought, he said to himself silently. You’re not with Fiona. You don’t have her, no matter how hard she fucks you. She’s not yours, not really. You have no future with her. You have no future at all.



Tori and Fiona were quiet for several long minutes, just holding each other’s hands and trying not to cry, visibly fighting to hold back tears. Tori opened her mouth and shut it a few times in quick succession, seeming to struggle to force words out. But Fiona was patient, just sitting there, waiting rather than pushing for information.



“I wasn’t far from home,” Tori finally mumbled, using her free hand to rub at her own knees, scratching through the thin white sheet that covered them.



“What?” Fiona asked, an urgent tone seeping into her voice for the first time during this conversation.



“The dungeon, where I was kept—it wasn’t far from my house. That’s why I was able to get back. I don’t…I don’t remember exactly where it was, but it was near my neighborhood, so I could walk back without getting on the subway,” Tori said.



There was a long pause where neither of them said anything, where Fiona just rubbed the back of Tori’s hand with her thumb. “Do you remember anything else?” Fiona whispered after several moments.



Tori bit down on her lower lip and nodded slowly. “I can talk about it, if you want,” she whispered.



“Only if you’re ready,” Fiona said. “But it could really help us. It could help us find the monster. We can turn him into the little shrimp that he really is.”



Tori lifted her free hand and brought it close to her face, staring at the fresh scars that lined her young skin. “The last thing I remember, I was waiting for my friends after soccer practice. We were going to go to this pizza parlor for dinner. But this guy was there…he was selling stuff, like cotton candy and caramel apples and junk, like carnival food. He said it was for charity. My friends…my friends laughed him off. He looked so weird, just this weird middle-aged guy hanging out around the high school. I felt bad for him. So I bought something. I walked away and ate it and then…I woke up in a dark room, tied up.” Tori paused and blew out her breath, struggling to keep herself composed well enough to keep telling her story. “I couldn’t tell when it was day or night because the room was so dark and the windows were covered. But I could tell there was a girl beside me, tied up. But she was knocked out, like she’d been there for weeks already. I tried to talk to her, but it never…she never answered.”



Tori took a long pause where she just sucked in air and breathed heavily, probably fighting off an impending panic attack, if Gage’s experience with Fiona was anything to go by. He was tempted to reach forward and take Tori’s other hand, just to give her something to hold onto, but he was worried that she might panic at having a man touch her right now, so he held himself back. Fiona patiently waited, a soft, encouraging smile on her face as she looked at Tori.



“He would come every couple of hours, I think. At some point, I thought, well, he must have a job where he can come and go as he likes because he’s always popping in and out of his own place. He’d come and untie me and do…stuff, and then he’d bring out his knife. He’d make little cuts at first, for the first couple of days. And then deeper. And then more deep, each day I was there,” she said, sighing heavily as she finished talking.