Ryker glances at Teresa, who’s staring up at us with complete boredom on her face.
Sensing Ryker’s need for secrecy, she waves her hand. “Leave. It’s my nap time.”
He glances at me before walking to an end table next to Teresa’s chair and snatching a crumpled receipt and pen. She grumbles when he starts scribbling on it but doesn’t stop him.
Straightening, he hands the slip of paper to me. “You caught us in the middle of something. Meet us at this address in four hours. Don’t be late. Now get out.”
I arch a brow when I spot hemorrhoid cream on the receipt but quickly decide it’s not my business what’s growing on Teresa’s ass.
“I’ll be early,” I say. “Bye, Mama T.”
“Good luck,” she calls. I wave a hand in acknowledgment before opening and shutting the front door behind me.
I don’t need luck, just the help of four men, who are probably going to be enough pains in my ass that
I’ll need the hemorrhoid cream next.
Chapter 14
The Diamond
That’s such a good girl, little mouse. Open that pretty mouth and taste me…
You’ve been naughty, mouse. You like it when I punish you, don’t you?
I could eat you for days, and it would never be enough…
Fuck, baby, I’m so fucking addicted…
I jolt awake, and for one beautiful second, I thought I was back in Parsons Manor with Zade. Images of mismatched eyes and a wicked smirk clog my headspace, but the sudden movement lances sharp needles of pain throughout my skull. The memories dissipate, Zade’s deep tenor fading as the dull throb that radiates from between my legs feels like a curse that was cast by an evil witch-a curse that won’t let me forget.
Bright sunlight pierces through the dusty curtains, and it almost feels mocking. I squint my eyes, the migraine worsening as I train my tired eyes on the dirty window.
It’s cold outside, but it doesn’t look like we’ll be plagued by the usual rainy forecast today.
The phantom in the sky really is a devil. Why else would She make such a gruesome day so bright and sunny?
Today is the Culling, and already the house seems to be filling up with chatter.
To make matters worse, my body doesn’t feel nearly as broken as I thought it would. My soul? Completely shattered. But at least I can fart without feeling like I’m going to pass out, right?
Wrong. If I could hardly move, it might’ve provided me with an excuse to not participate in the Culling.
Despite the beating my body took three days ago from my punishment for failing the practice test, my wounds are healing, so lying to her about my physical well-being when the other girls will still have to take part… It makes me feel like a coward.
So, thank you, God, for the small blessings in life and for allowing me to see another day and pass gas properly. A-fucking-men, bitch.
Phoebe, Bethany, and Gloria were raped alongside me. Jillian kept her head down when she walked past us, but Sydney blatantly laughed in our faces, and all I wanted to do was grab her hair and drag her down on that dirty ground next to us. It was her fault I was on that floor to begin with, naked men crowding around me, and already injured from her stunt with Francesca.
All I could think about as we were passed around from man to man was how much I hated her. Hated her superiority and hated her for sabotaging me.
It was the only thing that got me through touches from dirty fingers and violent invasions from men that weren’t my shadow.
Afterward, Rio carried me up to my bed, my legs physically unable to support me from the abuse my body endured. He couldn’t look at me. Not when he did nothing while men stole from me, and then he picked up that broken girl and carried her to bed-only because Francesca demanded it of him.
But he did speak to me. He told me about the chupacabra, a mythical being rumored to terrorize Puerto Rico. He told me when he was young, he was playing with his baby sister when he swears that he saw it. A grotesque gray creature with wings, and it flew by before he could blink.
I don’t know why he told me that story. Maybe to distract me, but I suppose it worked. He gave me a monster that didn’t feel real instead of focusing on the monsters that are.
“Get up.” The sharp slap that follows the harsh words startles me, and I yelp from both the surprise and pain. I hadn’t even heard her come in, despite her loud-ass heels. She must’ve gotten new ones already.
I look up to find Francesca staring down at me, a frown marring her bright pink lips. She looks disappointed in me, and I hate how small that makes me feel.
I open my mouth, but no sound comes out. What am I supposed to do? Apologize?
After she assaulted me with her broken heel and I was gang-banged by Rocco’s friends, she couldn’t bear looking at me for a full day.?Yesterday, I had finally broken through and managed to convince her that Sydney was the one to destroy her things.
She didn’t apologize. Didn’t even appear remorseful. But she did lock Sydney in an old cellar on the property for the entire day, and I’m almost ashamed to admit how much it soothed my soul to hear her screaming to be let out. Already, I’m changing, and the old Addie is unrecognizable.
I’ve never wanted to hurt someone until now. Never felt the urge to grab a knife and rip someone’s throat open ear to ear.
I’m vibrating with it, but Sydney isn’t the only one on the receiving end. I’m pissed at every single person in this house, save for the other innocent girls.
Especially with Francesca, and every man who stole a piece of my soul that night. A piece I don’t even think Zade will ever be able to get back for me.
There will always be pockets missing where my innocence used to reside.
“Get ready in the beauty room. Our guests will be here soon.” Her eyes flicker down my body snidely. “Look presentable,” she tacks on, the words digging into my skin like a needle, before turning and walking out, her clicking heels echoing against the hardwood floor.
Grinding my teeth, it takes monumental effort not to fucking scream. From rage, pain, and just pure frustration.
Instead, I force my battered body into movement, slip out of the lumpy bed and pad my way towards the beauty room.
Men’s voices drift from below, and the sound sends my heart flying to my throat. I work to swallow as I meet Phoebe at the threshold.
The second our eyes meet, both of us look away. Incapable of connecting over something that we both suffered through. Shame. Embarrassment. Sorrow. All are at the forefront as we walk into the room.
Bethany and Gloria are picking through the clothes on a rack Francesca must’ve set out for us. Instead of revealing outfits, warm clothing hangs from the metal rod. Guess it wouldn’t be ideal for five girls to run for their life with a thong riding up their ass and tassels hanging from their nipples in freezing weather.
Jillian is sitting at a vanity and putting on concealer in hopes of covering up the dark circles rimming the underside of her eyes. Briefly, we make eye contact, but her gaze flickers away immediately. I haven’t seen her since our punishment-apparently, she’s been sick and has missed out on the last couple of lessons.
A swarm of angry bees rises up my throat, and I can’t stop the uncontrollable bitterness from taking hold, seizing my heartstrings, and turning it into a puppet of mass destruction.
Did she sleep that night? Hearing three girls scream in pain and begging for them to stop? Begging and begging and begging.
Please.
New Book: Back Home to Marry Off Myself
Loredana’s father left the family for his mistress, leaving them to fend for themselves abroad. When life was at its toughest, her father showed up with “good news” after 8 years of absence: To marry off Loredana to a paralyzed son of the wealthy Mendelsohn family.