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1
Pen
Ihave a choice. I know that.
Fight back and sign Lena’s death warrant.
Obey and get raped.
Running is no longer an option. It never was.
“That’s it, Penelope, do the right thing,” Jeb sneers as I turn to face him. His warm breath curdles the air that’s already filled with the heady scent of sex and debauchery. Around us people are fucking like animals, all sense of decency left at the entrance to Grim’s club. Not that any of these fuckers had much to begin with. They’re all gangsters, fucking criminals. They don’t give a shit. Their sense of right and wrong is skewed to suit their own sense of morality. This is probably an average night out for them.
“I’m sure Zayn will make you feel good, Penelope. I’ve heard he’s quite the lover.” Jeb’s laughter scratches down my spine, making me stiffen as bile burns my throat.
My instinct is to fight back, but if I do that then David will be the least of my problems. He’s in fucking Mexico, after all. Right here and now, Jeb is just a short car ride away from my little sister who has no fucking clue about the target on her head.
“Did you think I’d forget? That I’d let this go?”
“No,” I bite out. Of course I didn’t. Jeb hasn’t got to this position by backing out of his threats. He collects his debt in blood, tears, and death. Everyone knows that, including me. I just wish I hadn’t allowed myself to fall into the false sense of security that the last three years have afforded me. Now, after all that time, Jeb’s cashing in part of my debt.
Tonight Zayn is playing his doppelganger for the sole purpose of fucking me in front of all these bastards. What I don’t understand is why Jeb gives a shit anyway? Why does he feel he needs to hide his sexual preferences? What difference does being gay make? This is the twentieth century for fuck’s sake.
“Pretty girl, just fucking relax. You loved him once. I’m sure he’ll make it good for you…” Jeb has the gall to say, his blasé attitude boiling my blood.
“I can’t believe Zayn would agree to this. I know I hurt him, butthis?”
“You know you want it. Don’t lie to yourself, Penelope. I bet you’re wet thinking about Zayn fucking you in front of the Breakers. Isn’t that what pissed your brother off so much, knowing that you were a whore for them?”
“Fuck you,” I seethe, holding onto the anger because tears are unthinkable. I will not shedanyfor this man, and I refuse to shed any more for the Breakers.
“It ain’t me who’s getting fucked tonight, pretty girl. Though admittedly, your feistiness is turning me on just a little,” he admits, with a surprised laugh. “Who would’ve thought it?”
“You’re sick. This isrape,” I snarl back, yanking my arms from his grip. My gaze flicks to the table beside us and the empty bottle of champagne. If I could just reach it, I could use it as a weapon.
Jeb smiles lazily beneath his mask, even though his black eyes flash with warning. “Nuh-uh-huh,” he says, wagging his finger in my face. “Grim’s men will take you out, and your little sister will be dead within the hour. The only fighting in Grim’s club is in the cage. Those are the rules. Of course, hate sex is positively encouraged.” He tips his head back and laughs like a fucking bloodthirsty hyena.
Around us the patrons are oblivious to the war raging within me, too busy fucking like animals, or snorting long lines of coke laid out onto plates of mirrored glass in front of them. The trouble is, there’s no winning side. Not for me. I’m fucked any way you look at it. Knowing that, my hands remain by my side. I want to scream, my fists curl and uncurl and my jaw aches from clenching it so tightly, but nothing compares to the anger and betrayal I feel.Nothing.
It burns inside of me, ripping through my chest like an out of control fire gutting a home filled up with memories. Jeb might be the instigator, the guy who holds all the strings, but the Breakers,they’rethe ones who agreed to this.
Zaynagreed to this.
And that’s unforgivable.
“So what’s it to be, Penelope? We could do this the easy way or the hard way, but either way, you’re getting fucked right here in front of all these people.”
“Why does it even matter? Why do you care so much about what people think of you? Fuck a man, Jeb. Grow some goddamn balls,” I hiss, trying to buy some time, not caring that my words will piss him off. The longer he’s standing here arguing with me, the better. Maybe I can keep him occupied long enough for this debauchery to be over. I might pay for it later, but I’m going to take my chances. Jeb steps closer, gripping my upper arm as he yanks me towards him.
“Don’t try and psychoanalyse me,bitch. It doesn’t matter why I do what I do. It only matters thatyoufucking obey!” he sneers.
Twisting on his feet, he pulls me towards Zayn and my worst fucking nightmare. I know I’m strong. I’ve survived years of abuse, but this. How can I survive this? I loved Zayn. I still love him despite everything, but that love is quickly draining away like water through sand.
As I walk through the dense heat of the warehouse, I remember that time when Zayn and I had made out on Xeno’s bed. I remember how I’d adored his kisses, relished his touch. I remember how I revelled in his words of affection and love. My heart had been so fucking full. Back then, Xeno had watched and it had turned me on knowing he was there. Back then, I’d been a willing participant.
Back then, they hadbothloved me.
Those boys would never,everhave contemplated rape, let alone agree to it. Surely they’re not so different now, right? Surely, what we had meantsomething? Then again, a lot can change in three years, especially when you’re part of the Skins. Perhaps they’re beyond repair, so damaged by this life they’ve led that there’s no coming back from it. My steps falter as we near their table, my body trembling.
