Offerings don’t fight back—but this one always will.
“Come on, Mick,” grates Cam, and a peek in his direction tells me that he already has his erection out, stroking it lazily. He likes to have me on my hands and knees in front of him, chokingon his cock, but the gleam only hits his dark eyes like that when he gets to watch me degrade myself with Mickey. “Stop talking and give her your dick. I’m ready.”
Ready for his turn or to leave sticky residue on the floor of my cell when he comes all over it after watching his buddy rape my mouth, I can’t say. Regardless, I hate him as much as I hate Mickey, and as all that violenthatewells up inside of me, I react.
Mickey unzips his jeans. Distracted by pulling out his hard cock, I shift my weight and, throwing myself backward, I kick out. My heel makes contact with his groin. He grunts, then sucks in a breath, and as he slumps forward, he stares at me in disbelief.
I can’t save myself from this, either. I know in an instant that I provoked him too far, and that when he recovers, I’m in trouble.
Double trouble since Cam jerks up his jeans, grabbing my shoulder, pinning me to the cot so that Mickey has a wide open target when he begins to hit me.
I hear someone shout an order—“Don’t damage the merchandise”—but these two brutes don’t give a shit. After the first few hits, Mickey is on top of me. His knee lands beside my ribs. His hand catches my hair again, forcing my head back as he crouches over me.
“You just don’t fucking learn, do you?”
My mouth is full of blood, and when I spit at him, I see red dots in the spittle that lands on his chin.
Cam switches his position, holding my thighs down before I can jerk my knee up. With Mickey’s weight on me, I’m immobilized. I can’t imagine my heel did that much damage because Mickey is still half-hard when he forces my mouth open and shoves his dick past my teeth.
“Told you, Cameron. The only good use for a bitch like this is a hole. Maybe next time Winter will see how much of a filly theOffering is and give us her ass to break her for good. That can’t count in their stupid fucking rules, eh?”
It’s the latest threat that does it. Over the last few weeks, whenever he had me like this, my brain protected me by shutting down. This time, though? It’s… it’sdifferent. Almost like the most recent assault is happening to someone else. Someone who isn’t me.
I hear Mickey’s voice, too close and too pleased, telling me I can make it easy or I cam make it hard, and if I’m a good girl, he’s sure I’ll enjoy it.
But I won’t. I know I won’t, and as though I won’t be the one to pay the price for it later, I choose hard. I want to believe I’ll always choose hard—and that’s when hard becomesimpossible, and I have Cam rubbing dicks against Mickey as he stretches my jaw, trying to find some part of my tongue to touch his skin.
They high-five while they violate me, and discuss what it would be like to bend me over and takeeverything, and that’s when I shut down until it’s finally,finallyover.
By the time they leave, I’m curled on the floor beside the cot, one arm wrapped around my middle. My jaw is throbbing. My throat is raw. Hot tears sting my eyes, and though I know I need to rinse my mouth out, I can’t move.
I stay on the floor for a long time, the numberthirty-fourechoing in my head.
Eventually, I find the strength to get up on my knees. I pull myself on top of the cot and crawl toward the wall. Toward the tally marks.
It’s been thirty-four days since I stopped being the Haven Smith that I was.
A high-ranked Offering from an old Harmony Heights family. One who was protected.Prized. I was supposed to be valuable, but now… now I’m nothing.
Slowly, I curl on my side again. The speaker crackles once, then goes silent, but I know better than to think that I’m as alone as I feel.
Thirty-four days ago, I would’ve shouted at the unseen watcher. Now? I’m as silent as the grave.
Later, I’ll wonder if that’s when my voice truly left me. Like, one moment I had it, then it was gone, and because I didn’t miss it, I just let it go.
The next time Mickey comes in, he leers like always, then asks if I missed him.
I don’t say a word.
Smirking, he asks if I learned my lesson.
Nothing.
Getting pissed off now, he grabs my chin hard enough to bruise before telling me to answer him.
I don’t want any more pain. I just want to be left alone. So I open my mouth—but nothing comes out.
Mute. It’s the first time he laughs and says, “Cute. You’ve gone mute now?,” and I realize that these men broke me so badly, I have. I’ve gone mute.
