Page 40 of Barinov

“Just do it!” Roman roars.

“Zeke, please!” Bella screams again as he lowers himself onto her. “No!”

I rip open the sketchbook, shaking so hard the pencil nearly slips out of my hand. Tears blur everything as the first line hits the page.

♥♥♥

BELLA

Day 12 in Eden.

“Zeke, please! NO!” I scream, the headboard rattling behind me as he pins me down.

Zeke’s hand slams next to my head. His warm breath grazing my ears.

“Iz… shit, I mean Bells,” he hisses, his deep voice sharp with urgency. “Jesus Christ, I’m not going to fuck you.”

My whole body trembles under his. “W-w-what?” I sob, confusion and fear tangling together with a fit of rage. “Zeke, what are you—”

“Shh,” he cuts me off, mouth barely moving as he grinds his hips against me. “He’s watching. Just shut up and listen for once in your life.”

I open my mouth again, but he shoots me that look. The same look he used to give me when I was sixteen and about to mouth off to him on a mission.

“Do what I say,” he growls. “Exactly when I say it.”

I manage a jerky nod.

“Scream at me to quit.”

My throat tightens, but I do. “Zeke! STOP!”

He shackles my wrists with his hands, shoving them up against my head. His fingers vibrate against my skin in a frantic and uneven movement he can’t seem to stop.

I wince as the skin on my forearm stretches. “Watch it.”

“I’m going to get us out of here. I promise,” he whispers, shifting lower to block my face from the camera planted up in the corner of my ceiling. “Sorry about this one.”

He slams his hips into mine. The bed jerks and my skull bangs against the headboard.

“Ouch,” I yelp. “That fucking hurt.”

“Yell at me again and make it convincing,” he whispers as he lowers himself back down, rolling his hips in a cruel, slow rhythm.

“Anytime now,” he grits against the skin of my neck.

He keeps moving on top of me. Putting on a show for the sick fucker watching from God knows where in this nightmare of a house.

“Please s-s-stop!” I cry, the words burn coming out.

He grunts and grabs my throat tight enough to tilt my chin and hide the angle of his mouth. Zeke dips his head and ghosts his lips against my jaw. “Now push me off.”

I press against his chest, legs kicking weakly beneath him. He viciously shoves me back with one hand.

“I hate this,” I whisper.

“I know,” he breathes. “But he has to buy it. They all do.”

“They?” I ask.