Vicious Cycle(54)
Grabbing me by the shoulders, he yanked me up off the floor. I dangled from his hands like a puppet on a string while my legs tried to find steady ground. With a sneer, he replied, “Oh, I’m going to take from you all right. But it’s not going to be any money or your car. For this to matter, it has to be physical.”
His threat caused my knees to weaken, and if he hadn’t been gripping me so tightly, I would have collapsed down onto the floor. “Please, no,” I begged. He released one of my shoulders to send a stinging slap across my cheek.
“Don’t say another fucking word, or I will end you—no matter what the boss man said.”
Pressing my lips together, I nodded in agreement. My mind whirled with out-of-control thoughts. Who was the boss man? Why had he given this thug orders about me?
He set me on my feet and then shoved me into the kitchen table. He pressed against me, his massive body keeping me from getting away. From the inside of his cut, the man produced a long knife—one that looked like it belonged in the military. The blade gleamed in the kitchen light. After admiring it for a moment, he brought it to my throat. At the feel of the blade pressed against my skin, I began to hyperventilate. My chest heaved as I gasped for breath.
Lowering the knife, he brought it to the buttons on my shirt. Slowly, one by one, the blade popped the buttons off until the shirt gaped open. Grabbing me by the collar, he ripped the shirt off my arms. As I brought my hands up in front of my bra, he began to shred the fabric of my shirt. He slid the knife back into his cut and took one of the strips, holding it taut between his hands.
“This should keep you quiet.” Before I could protest, he had the strip over my mouth, gagging me. Now no one could hear me scream. The thought sent delirious desperation rocketing through me.
This isn’t happening. It’s all just a dream … a nightmare. You’ll wake up in a few seconds.
With another one of the strips of cloth, he bound my hands. The fabric cut into my skin, and I cried out against the gag. Then he gripped my hips and hoisted me onto the kitchen table. He brought my hands up over my head and looped the binding to the chandelier. “On your knees,” he commanded. I flailed around until I was kneeling on the kitchen table.
“Now, that should keep you quiet and still for what I have to do.” When his hand went to his belt, I began to thrash against my bindings. I tugged as hard as I could, hoping to bring down the chandelier if I had to. Once his belt was off, he gave me an evil smile before bringing it over his head. A loud crack echoed through the room before the leather bit into the flesh on my abdomen. Tears stung my eyes as I screamed behind my gag. The next blow of the belt hit me across the breasts. I didn’t even have the chance to recover before another lash broke against my back and then my thighs.
The man’s harsh voice cut through my painful fog. “Rumor is you’re Deacon’s old lady.” When I didn’t acknowledge his words, he brought the belt across my cheek. After I finished screaming from the pain, his eye locked on mine. “Answer me, bitch. Are you Deacon’s old lady?”
I shook my head furiously back and forth. My response was rewarded with another lashing from the belt. “He had you on the back of his bike. You spent the night at the Raiders compound, and he has a prospect follow you home. That is fucking old-lady territory.”
“N-no, I—I’m n-not,” I stammered from behind the gag. “I s-swear.”
The man eyed me curiously before his lips curled in a sneer. “You lie. You lie to try to save yourself and to save that piece of shit you spread your legs for.”
“No!” I cried.
“I’ll go easier on you if you tell the truth. You see, we need to draw him out. Since he keeps that brat under lock and key, you were the next choice. He’ll want revenge for us hurting you, and that’s when we’ll strike. So I’ll ask you again, are you Deacon’s old lady?”
Fearing for my life, I finally nodded my head. “Yes. Yes, I am.”
When he licked his lips, fear prickled over my body like tiny knives. “Now comes the best part of the job.”
While the beating had been horrible, the insinuation of what he was about to do was more than I could bear. He pushed me back farther on the table. Shoving my legs apart, he came to stand between them. His fingers grabbed at the button on my skirt, and I closed my eyes, praying for strength. Then, with everything I had left in me, I shoved him with one foot and then kicked him in the face with the other. The force sent him flying backward against the kitchen counter. Once again, I pulled and tugged against my bindings with all my strength.