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Twenty-Nine
Connie
“Aren’t we getting a cab?”I ask Peter, aware that my words are slurring a little. God, I haven’t felt this drunk since my eighteenth birthday last year, and even then I swear I was able to hold my drink better. My head swims, and my vision blurs as Peter’s grip tightens.
“I thought you could use the walk. Our hotel isn’t far away.”
“Probably a good idea. My head is all over the place. I swear I didn’t drink that much.”
“You were knocking them back, Connie. Don’t stress. I’ll get you back safe.”
Peter laughs, but beneath the familiar sound is something I can’t place. Goosebumps gather over my skin and somewhere in the depths of my muddled brain, a very quiet voice is trying to get my attention.
“Have you enjoyed yourself?” he asks after a while, as I stumble, and he keeps me upright.
“Yeah, I have. It’s been g-ood seeing my friends.”
“You keep yourself hidden away on that island. A pretty girl like you should be living it up.”
“I-I like living there,” I slur, my own voice sounding alien and far away.
“You really do, don’t you? It’s a fucking dump, Connie.” Through the haze, his words cut me deep. I swear warning bells are sounding off in my head, but I can’t really make sense of why.
“I th-thought you liked our island?” My knees buckle, and I find I can’t walk anymore, let alone speak.
Peter hauls me upright, pressing his mouth against my ear. “That’s what I wanted you to think…”
“Wh-hat,” I stutter, forcing my eyes open. Trying to focus. Everything seems so far away. Through the haze, I feel my body lifted off the ground.
“Fuck this. I’m done waiting. Fucking three weeks I’ve slogged over you.”
“Pe-eter,” I stumble, registering his words and not understanding them. Black dots prick my vision as cold dread spreads over me. “Wh-hat are you doing?”
I’m vaguely aware of being carried down a dark alley. There are no lights down here. Nothing but the stench of rubbish and mould.
“Shut the fuck up, Connie. It’s time to put out,” he responds with a cruel snarl, shoving me face first into a hard brick wall. Stars splinter behind my eyes and I cry out, but it sounds weak, like a helpless kitten abandoned by her mother.
“Pe-eter, pl-ease…” My words are cut off with another pitiful cry as his cold hands slide up the back of my dress, yanking it above my waist. “St-op,” I whimper, awareness breaking through the fog in my head. I try to break free of his hold, but every limb feels leaden.
“That’s it, Connie, fucking beg,” he retorts, coldness leaking into his voice. “I like it when they beg.”
When his fingers yank at my knickers, tears run over my cheeks, stinging against the scrape made by the sharp brick. I feel myself slipping into unconsciousness, the black spots that blur my vision joining up. I feel rage inside me, but it’s buried so deep beneath this thick, syrupy feeling that I can’t even use it to fight him off. All I can do is beg, and I hate it.
“P-lease,” I beg, choking on a sob.
“Oh, baby, I’m only stopping once I’ve fucked every hole.” He licks my face. I can’t even respond.
Blackness pulls me under…
I welcome oblivion.
* * *
My head thunders,everything hurts. Even opening my eyelids is such a mammoth, monumental effort that I can’t even manage to do that. Unfurling my fingers that are clutching hold of something soft, I groan, trying and failing to push myself upright.
“Hey, shh. Don’t move,” a deep, soothing voice tells me.
“Malakai?” I mumble, my tongue a heavy muscle in my mouth.
