Now Gerry seemed to know what he would do with her, provided the price was right.
“I’m telling you, thirty is a steal for this one… Yeah, so what? Since when is a pregnant Omega a turn off? If nothing else, you don’t have to worry about getting her shit for a few months.” Gerry’s lined face broke out into a sunny smile that was more terrifying than anything he’d done to her so far. When he aimed it down at her, Quinn almost peed herself. “That’s what I like to hear, Alton! You tell me the time and place and I’ll have her there for you to test out.”
Everything went blank for a moment. She saw Gerry’s lips continuing to move, scratching out a time and address on Quinn’s chest in red ink, but she didn’t hear him, didn’t feel it. Alton… There could only be one of them that Gerry was trying to sell her to in Alderbrook. Alton had always prided himself on offering the best pussy money could buy.
Her expression showed nothing, she knew that, but she still closed her eyes. Hoping, praying, that neither Gerry nor the still hiccupping Tina would see the sudden flash of victory in her gaze.
Alton.
He’d make it up to her if she had to rip his limbs off and shove his cock down his throat.
“Get her cleaned up,” Gerry said after he copied the information onto the back of a ketchup stained napkin. Giving a rough slap to Quinn’s cheek in parting, he went outside.
“Get up.” Full of spite and hatred, Tina’s voice still wavered with the last of her tears.
The scrape of nails on her scalp was enough to get Quinn scrambling off the bed, ruining the trembling grip that sought to make Quinn pay in pain. Any pity she’d have felt for the Beta female was long since turned to ash. Tina exalted in her position of meager power, but often fell into meting out twisted revenge.
Shoulder slamming into the mildew crusted tiles of the shower as Tina pushed her, Quinn swallowed back the stream of curses she wanted to hurl at Tina. Unsure if it was because Gerry had turned his sadistic needs onto Tina or if it was because he had demanded Quinn spread for him while he did it, the result was the same. Quinn would suffer the small wounds Tina counted as victories.
Scrubbing away the crust of filth from her skin under the frigid spray, she ignored Tina’s snarls and barks as much as she could. It was the first time they had allowed her to be clean, and she’d be damned if she would have Alton see her covered in white scum.
Bundled in a pathetic scrap of fabric that would have gotten her called off the floor at Wicked, and a coat stinking of Gerry, Quinn was hustled into the back of a gray clunker of a car that wasn’t familiar. It looked stolen, but it didn’t matter. Gerry wasn’t stupid enough to get pulled over, and with Tina crowding Quinn in the backseat, escape wasn’t even a glimmer of an idea. Even if she had thought to try to run, there was nowhere to go. They would run her down in moments. Quinn settled against the dank upholstery and stared out the window, indifferent as Gerry guided the car down one backroad after another.
Her time would come. And when it did, she would release a fury the likes of which none of these people had ever witnessed.
It was full dark by the time they reached a rundown monstrosity of crumbling brick that claimed it was a hotel. Quinn knew it very well. She had come there many a night with Alton, tucked against his side as he claimed his due from the owner. Straining to keep her breaths calm and her heart from ripping free of its cage, Quinn bowed her head to hide any possible trace of her eagerness. Docile was an understatement for her demeanor as she waited for Gerry to collect her from the backseat, scurrying at his side as he marched her through the rickety doors that screamed an infernal wail of protest.
The reed-thin Beta behind the counter didn’t even look up from the pages of his magazine, the glossy paper splashed with images of women bound, gagged, sporting vivid red lines on their flesh.
“We’re meeting him,” Gerry said, a sleazy smile on his lips as he shook Quinn at the man.
“Room four-oh-two.” Narrow finger touched to his tongue, the page turned in a lazy arc to reveal more flesh.
No key was offered, but it appeared that was how it worked. Dragged towards the stairs, Quinn guessed it made sense. Customers wouldn’t need the doors to be locked until they were inside, and there couldn’t be anything worth stealing from this shithole.
By the third floor Quinn lost what little steam her anger had fueled. She hadn’t eaten more than scraps, hadn’t rested, and the demands on her body had been almost too much. More than once she had laid there trembling and wondering if this would be the time that her body would break, losing the little bundle of light and hope inside. Stumbling as her ankle turned, she crashed hard down to her knees on the rough concrete step. Palm scraping across the craggy texture, she struggled to remain upright. There wasn’t even breath to make a sound of pain around the wheezing gasps. Only Gerry’s hand kept her from tumbling back down to the bottom.
“Fuckin’ hell, bitch.”
Quinn didn’t even bother to think of squirming when Gerry hauled her up. Sheened in a cold sweat, skin flushed pink, she thought she might be ill if she even tried.
The room was beyond filthy. Saturated in the leavings of so many, steeped in violence and fear, it made Quinn gag. The brown spotted sheets were stiff with something vile. Puke, piss, and come were a miasma that tried to send her into unconsciousness as her stomach turned and roiled.
Tina’s piercing yelp pulled Quinn’s attention away from the state of the disgusting room. Gerry’s hand wove through ashy brown locks to bow Tina’s spine over his arm. Teeth bared, voice an ominous growl, he said, “Don’t make me have to teach you a lesson again. Don’t fuck this up for us.”
Nothing more than a strangled scream escaped Tina’s gaping lips as Gerry wrenched her back further. Bent unnaturally, hands clenched into useless fists, only the stark terror in her watery brown eyes could answer him.
“Don’t. Fucking. Touch. Her.” Each word was paired with the hard crack of flesh meeting, the back of Gerry’s hand knocking Tina’s head from side to side.
As soon as he had begun, it was over. Quinn stared in horrified fascination as the dull gleam of insanity oozed from his eyes. Gerry’s lips curled in his version of a smile as he turned to Quinn, letting Tina drop from his grip. Muddy brown searing her flesh, he jerked the coat from Quinn’s body leaving her only in a strip of fabric that did little to conceal. The shadow of her pussy was on full display, breasts held back with a thin strip of cloth, belly obscene as it jutted from her narrow hips. Looking down, Quinn grimaced to see the dusty rose of her areolas visible. Somehow it made everything worse to have the aching points of her nipples covered.
Then he was on her, rough hands gripping her ass, spreading, lifting. Dry and twisting, a finger was shoved inside. Quinn’s unprepared squeal of pain made him chuckle.
“You better be a good girl for them,” he said, voice a grating rasp against her cheek. The finger dug deeper still before he edged it out. A rhythm was set, torturous and slow, as he took in the way she bared her teeth and fought to remain still. “You can fight a little, but don’t you go making them think you’re not willing enough. This doesn’t pan out the way it should, well… I’m sure I could find some use for you. Cause you and I both know that nobody else is gonna want anything to do with you after what you’ve done.”
Flung back on the bed, Quinn managed to remain on the mattress even when the rusty springs squealed and tried to launch her off the side. Fingers scraping through something wet and cold, she almost wished she had tumbled off.
Tina ignored her after Gerry left them alone to wait down the hall for Alton. Quinn reminded herself that it was good, that Tina’s attention was nothing but more pain. It also left Quinn alone with her thoughts and that was not a place she wanted to dwell.
