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Trek
Never would I have imagined I’d be here. Never did I think this shit could happen to me. I’m stronger than this. I’m built to be stronger than this. I turn my head and glance over at Drake as he hangs limply from the chains above his head. The prospect is dead. I already know that. Now it’s just the two of us.
“You ready to play?” The asshole Victor asks me with a sick smirk on his face. I feel the vomit lodge in the back of my throat as he pulls a syringe from the back of his jeans and walks toward me. I can’t think straight after the last dose of whatever that shit is hit my veins, and now he’s giving me more. I cringe internally as the needle pricks my skin. Everything begins to turn to fuzz after that.
People come in and out of the room, and I’m stripped naked. I try to swallow, but my throat is so fucking dry I can’t. I want to speak, to scream, but no sounds are coming out of me. Then I feel it. Something hard, pressing into me. Something hard pressing into my ass. The pain shoots through my body, and I can vaguely hear screaming. Is that me? Is that my voice? I don’t know anymore. My head swims as I’m taken roughly from behind. I can hear them laughing and taunting Drake as they ruin me.
Pain shoots through my body, but I don’t have the strength to fight them. The drugs are doing their job that much, I’m sure of.
My head hangs over the edge of the table I’ve been chained to, vomit spewing from my lips. I can’t stop it even if I wanted to. A hand knots in my hair, yanking my head back as I’m taken harder. Blood whooshes in my ears as I try to break free of the chains. Nothing is working. There’s nothing I can fucking do but lie here useless.
When it’s finally over, I’m left lying on the table for a little while longer. Once the asshole returns, his men pull me from the table and drag me to a small cell where I’m thrown. I fall to the floor in a heap of nothing. I feel like nothing.
Some time passes before my senses start to return. The drugs slowly make their way out of my system, and I can somewhat raise my head. I glance around, looking for Drake. I spot him in the same spot, hanging by the chains.
“Drake?” I call his name, hoping to hell he isn’t dead too. He looks it from here, but I can’t be sure.
“Drake?” I call once more. Then I see the slightest movement. I blow out a breath, thankful as fuck my brother is still alive.
“They drug you?” he finally asks, and I let out another sigh of relief.
“Yeah. You?”
“Yeah. A lot, brother. I can barely lift my head.” He’s trying like hell to look at me.
“We gotta get out of here,” I tell him.
“Not likely to happen,” he mumbles, sounding as if he already knows we’re going to die here. I refuse. I won’t leave Heidi like that.
“Fuck you,” I grumble. I can hear Drake attempt to chuckle, but it’s all garbled.
“They’ll find us,” he finally says. That’s what I wanted to hear. I raise my hand to wipe the sweat off my face, but I’m weak. I wonder how long we’ve even been here. I can’t remember anything aside from being taken and brought here. We were out front, ready to go when shots were fired. Jake, Drake, and I were the first ones out when two vans pulled up and opened fire. Then we were grabbed and drugged almost immediately. I can’t believe how quickly it all happened.
“We’re gonna live,” I tell him.
“Maybe.” I want to smile at his remarks, but I can’t. Instead, I try to shift and find my ass is more painful than I originally thought. My body aches and not in good ways. Something seeps out of my ass, and I cringe at the thought. Violated doesn’t come close to what I feel. I want Victor. I want him dead. I want him on his knees. I want to bend him the fuck over and make him feel what he’s made me feel. I want to ruin his goddamn world like he’s done mine.
I must have dozed off because I find myself prying my eyes open when I hear people talking. I blink rapidly to see Victor and a few other guys standing before Drake. His head hangs in front of him when Victor lifts it by his hair and slams his fist into his face. Drake roars but takes it all. I watch, unable to look away as they beat the shit out of my friend, my brother, my VP. I watch in horror as they stab him in the stomach, laughing at the blood running down his stomach.
“You piece of shit!” I roar as loudly as I can, which isn’t much. I’m weak, which tells me I’ve been here a little while. I muster up the strength to pull myself to my feet and scream at the top of my lungs. That gets their attention. They all look at me as Victor walks over.
“Haven’t had enough yet? We’ll fix that,” he chuckles.
“You son of a bitch. I’ll kill you,” I growl. He laughs, not caring because I’m weak and stuck in a fucking cage.
“I don’t think you will. You stole from me. Now you’re going to replace the girls. A nice tight ass goes for more than a used pussy anyway,” he says with a sick smile on his face. I gag on vomit as I try to look the man in the eye.
“You’re sick,” I tell him.
“I’m a businessman. You interrupted that business. Now you’re going to make my money back. How does it feel to be the little bitch now?” Victor asks. My stomach churns. Acid burns inside of me. Anger and rage simmer below the surface, and there’s nothing I can do to ease the ache. Nothing I can do to make this go away.
“Get ready. It’s almost showtime.” He laughs before turning and walking away. I watch him go before my gaze slides back over to Drake. The sick son of a bitch just laughs at the blood trickling down his stomach.
“I might be disgusted if I didn’t like it so much,” he mumbles.
“What is he talkin’ about? The show?”
“Fuck if I know, brother. I think they’re gonna video what they do to us. Brought a few cameras in while you were out of it,” he explains. Fuck! Fuck!
I drop to my knees and lower my head. What the hell am I going to do? How am I going to get us out of here?
“Drake, we gotta get outta here, brother.”
“You tell me how and I’ll do it, brother.” Fuck, this is bad. There’s no way out of here. I glance around, seeing that we’re in what looks to be a warehouse of some kind. There’s nothing in here but us and two cells. Aside from the table and chairs they have set up. That’s when I see the cameras. He’s right. They’re going to record us. Fuck.
“It’s a warehouse,” I tell him.
“No shit. I figured as much,” he retorts, keeping a smirk on his face. Drake is a sick bastard and loves this type of shit when he’s not on the receiving end of it.
“Gotta get out of this cage,” I say to myself.
“How many guys come in?”
“I don’t know. I counted five last time,” I tell him.
“We’re pretty fucked, Trek.”
“Yeah, we are.”
