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The mattress dips beside me, forcing a shudder through my body, yet I don’t move. I stay as stiff as a board, acting like he doesn’t exist. The more I fight, the more he gets off on it. I won’t give him any more satisfaction. My eyes stay glued to the worn brown leather boots within arm's reach as he rolls me onto my back and spreads my legs wide. I’m a rag doll he brings out to play with whenever he feels like it.
I focus on the black clip hanging over the top of this boot. He hasn’t changed one bit. Just like seven years ago, he has a knife stashed in his favorite spot—his boot. If I reach out, I could grab it. Have the sharp, cool metal in my hand. Images of slicing deep into his flesh burn beneath my skin with a wanting desire. What sweet retribution it would be if I could end his life. It would put a stop to this endless cycle of misery.
“Are you going to be my good dahlia, or do I need to give you a little treat again?” Zayan’s taunting voice jerks me from my sweet murderous thoughts. My gaze jumps to him, taking in how deceivingly handsome he is with his hypnotizing brown eyes and perfect teeth. I was so damn stupid for ever trusting him, but it’s all part of his allure. He draws you in with his looks and sweet facade, then beats you down until you don’t even recognize yourself anymore. He’s the devil in disguise—charming, captivating, and waiting for the perfect time to unleash his evil when you least expect it, taking you straight to Hell with him.
“I’ll be good,” I whisper because that’s all I can manage. Ever since Marnix handed me over to Zayan, the only things I’ve eaten are the pills he’s forced down my throat and a couple of slices of bread. Just thinking about it, I can taste the metallic bitterness they leave in my mouth. Sometimes he breaks them up into the alcohol like he used to but other than that, I haven’t had anything to drink.
Barely any food. No water. Simply misery and pain. I’m weak as fuck, unable to move too much without feeling exhausted.
Between the pills, lack of food and water, and the brutal blows to the face he gave me when I first fought back, I’m barely able to keep my eyes open.
The skin on both my wrists burns from the ropes anchoring me to the bed. My bones ache from the punches he’s landed on me, and I can see the swelling and bruising along my body from his touch. He’s brutal and ruthless. I’m just his punching bag that he uses for fun.
At first, I was optimistic in thinking I could outwit him, outsmart him, but now I’m thinking this is how I’ll die. Without seeing my sweet broken Cohutta again, my protective Rush, or even getting the chance to beat the shit out of Marnix Taylor.
Even though Marnix fucked up, ruined me, and put me here, a piece of my stupid heart still aches for him, almost as much as I want to destroy him.
But now, none of that matters since I’ll be dying at the hands of a monster. All alone.
His soft palm cups my face, with his thumb rubbing my cheek. “Hmm, I don’t believe you, dahlia. Maybe this time, I can drug you for fun. I remember how much you liked getting blissed out on my little presents. How does that sound?”
“No, please don’t,” I beg, knowing he’ll do what he wants anyway.
“Well, it’s up to you whether I drug you or not, my beautiful girl. If you suck my cock like a good little whore, I’ll give you the pleasure of fucking you completely sober.”
On second thought, maybe I should let him drug me.
Zayan climbs up the bed and anchors my jaw open, forcing himself down my throat in one thrust.
My mind automatically ventures to a different place, a happier place. I’ll let him do his thing while I’m somewhere else. I’d like to bite down and rip his nasty cock off, but if I do that, he’ll retaliate even harder in return. So instead, I drift away in thoughts. Right now, I’m thinking about the night out by the pool with Rush. He finally gave up control. He allowed his feelings to fly free, and he truly kissed me like I was the air he needed. He was mine in ways I never imagined. How I wish I could go back to that time feeling the pleasure and warmth of being around him. He’s my safe haven.
Zayan releases my head, and I suck in as much air as possible now that I’m able to breathe again... Impatience fills him as he moves on to what he really wants. I won’t let my brain focus on what he’s doing because it hurts too much to think about. When I let myself go there, the emotions and agony take over, filling me with an uncontrollable sadness. The sadness he thrives on. “I’ll be sweet on you just this once, dahlia.” I vaguely hear his voice as the pressure releases from my wrists.
As good as being free from the ropes feels, I won’t leave my safe place with Rush or Cohutta until he’s done.
Hell, I’d rather focus on the man who broke my heart than my reality.
No, he doesn’t deserve anything from me, not even my thoughts. But it’s hard to forget about how good things could’ve been between us. He did something amazing to me, giving me a new side of him that I craved. I was about to do something I’ve never done since Zayan—a real relationship.
Fuck, thinking about him hurts almost as much as being here.
Instead, I think of my other two sweet men.
Rush. Cohutta. Rush. Cohutta.
They’d never betray me. They’d make sure I was safe, that I was having authentic, genuine fun with them. They’d make sure it was consensual.
Warmth fills my core, snapping me out of my head. There’s something about Zayan coming inside me that I can’t block out. Every single time he does, I’m ripped back to reality, torn from the solace I try to find elsewhere. I’m definitely not the most religious person, but I pray every day that I don’t get pregnant by this monster. I’m on birth control and have been since I was with him. I always keep it up to date, even though I never let any of my one-night stands fuck me raw. Condoms are essential, except for the time I let Cohutta fuck me without one. It was a spur-of-the-moment bad judgment call, I keep telling myself. I never would’ve let him, but I wasn’t in the right mindset.
Since I’ve been here, Zayan has been taking what he wants without using any sort of protection, and birth control isn’t always one hundred percent effective.
Zayan acts like he doesn’t even know what condoms are, but I guess he’s always been that way. I remember the first time he fucked me without a condom on. I begged him to wear one, but he said it would feel better for both of us if he didn’t use one. He constantly manipulated me and I let him. Hell, that’s precisely how he got me pregnant all those years ago. I never told him because I didn’t know how he’d react. He’s unpredictable and can become unhinged at the drop of a hat. He either would have beaten the baby out of me or treated the child like another leash to use to keep me trapped at his mercy.
I was conflicted about what to do. That precious baby deserved to live but not in the life I could provide at the time. I couldn’t protect myself from Zayan, much less a baby. The night I almost died from an overdose at Zayan’s hands, I also lost my baby.
When I found out, I was devastated, but a part of me, deep down, was relieved. I hated that I felt that way. I felt like a monster feeling even the slightest hint of ease from losing the baby, but at least Zayan couldn’t hurt the life inside me the way he had been hurting me.
I think about my precious baby boy every day of my life.
