Page 22 of Sweet Torment

My sweet, broken boys.

Pulling a remote from somewhere, she says, “Daddy left this in his office. Ten levels of fun.”

She presses it, and electricity blanks my mind. The world dissolves into a screech of white static. My muscles seize, trying to tear themselves from the bone.

“They hate you.” I barely get the words out before Liz slaps me. Hard.

Another shock. Higher. My back arches off the bed. Brain scrambled. Can’t think of anything but the pain.

Rebecca yanks my hair, jerking my head back. Katie finds Weller’s mark and pinches the tender skin, then twists it. I scream before I can stop myself.

“It’s a good thing Weller has a really high pain tolerance,” Whitney says, “because it’s going to hurt like a bitch when you die.”

The video changes. New sounds, new bodies. I’m drowning in the violation of the boys I’ve loved all my life.

They were violated because you weren’t here, an ugly voice in my head hisses. I could’ve saved them from her all along.

I force myself to snap out of it.

Rebecca’s fingers clamp around my throat, crushing my windpipe. No air. “Want me to finish her, Whit?”

“Not yet.” Rebecca lets up, and I gasp, lungs burning.

“We need to hurry up,” Liz says with a slight tremble. “Someone could⁠—”

“No one’s coming,” Whitney assures her. “The guard’s busy fucking that new nurse in the supply closet. And I made Daddy an extra special protein shake tonight. He’s fast asleep.”

The apple doesn’t fall far.

“You know what the best part is?” Whitney’s breath is hot against my face. “After you’re dead, they’ll be mine for good. No more interruptions. No more distractions.”

Katie laughs, but it’s high and cruel.

Whitney continues, “They won’t even remember you existed.”

And then I see it. The opening. The moment of opportunity Megan taught me to look for.

Whitney leans in too close, knife wavering. Her focus is split between the knife, the video, and her need to watch me suffer.

Weller’s voice in my head: “Come back to me, Bianca.”

I thrust my head forward and feel the cartilage of Rebecca’s nose crunch against my forehead. She cries out, blood gushing. Her hands fly to her face, releasing my throat. I lunge, sinking my teeth into Whitney’s arm. Hard. The taste of her blood makes me gag, but I bite harder, channeling every ounce of rage into the pressure of my jaw.

She shrieks and drops the knife.

Katie dives for it. My heel slams into her back. A wet crack echoes in the small room as she lands face-first into the bedside table and doesn’t move again.

“You killed Katie!” Liz shrieks, releasing my leg to go check on her. I roll off the bed, grabbing her ankle. She falls hard, and I leap onto her back, locking my forearm under her chin before she realizes what is happening.

Ezra would be proud of this hold.

“Let her go!” Whitney scrambles for the knife but can’t grip it properly with her fucked-up hands.

Rebecca, nose streaming blood, hits me everywhere she can reach in order to break my hold, but I’m not letting go. I flip us, using Liz as a shield, and squeeze harder. I feel the moment her body gives up. Rebecca lunges. Her nails rake my arms. We grapple, and she slams my head into the floor. My skull rattles against the tile, and the room explodes. For a minute, I’m just floating.

Whitney’s stabbing at me, but it’s sloppy and ineffective. The blade catches my arm, and the tip sinks in just enough to wake me up.

Rebecca’s tiring. Probably not used to this kind of fight. When she slams my head again, I go limp, faking it. She shifts her weight, and I snap my legs up, locking my thighs around her throat. She claws at my legs, but I just squeeze harder.