Page 42 of The Scream of Hell


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Without a word, Higgins dragged me over to the bath and, with little effort, dropped me into it. I went under and shoved myself up, spluttering. Higgins yanked my head back and rinsed my hair in the water before shampooing and rinsing. Higgins briskly washed me with a rough cloth, scrubbing the dirt away and hurting the scratches. Small sobs left my mouth as Higgins roughly rubbed over the wounds on my arms and hands. The only thing I was thankful for was Higgins wasn’t interested in my body.

Higgin’s dunked my head underwater several times to rinse off the soap and hauled me dripping wet out of the bath. Silently, Higgins wrapped a towel around me and began rubbing me dry. Each time Higgins passed over a breast or my pussy, I winced, but the movements were impersonal. If he didn’t intend rape, what did Higgins plan to do with me? Confused, I ran the conversation over in my mind; I discovered nothing that showed Higgin’s plans.

Higgins grunted once I was dry and moved into a small room, no doubt where I’d been held before by Tobias. He came out and shoved an oversized sweatshirt over my head and yanked on a pair of leggings. Higgins eyed me before disappearing and returning with a brush, which he pulled through my long hair. Squeals escaped as the brush caught on tangles and knots, and I saw Higgins smirk. Asshole was enjoying this, having me at his mercy. The helpless feeling intensified because I couldn’t even attempt an escape.

“What now?” I muttered, trying to distract myself from pain.

“Oh, you’re going to admit what a slut you are, Chey. Depending on how sweetly and honestly you confess, what happens after that is up to you.”

“Higgins, you expect me to agree I’m a tramp even though I’ve only slept with one man my entire life? That’s not happening.”

“Bitch, you’ll own being a prick tease, admit how you led me on and other fans to desire you. And how you rejected everyone because you’re a frigid cunt. On live internet, you’ll beg forgiveness for sluttish ways and the way you wreck lives and reveal how you torment and lead men on.” Um, no, that would not happen.

“Yeah, you’re going to have a long wait. That’s why you chased Jesse, isn’t it? You thought if you had Jesse, then you’d be able to force me into doing what you want. What leverage do you have over me now, Higgins? None, beating me won’t force me to do as you wish, and putting me in front of the camera battered and bruised will make any words I utter seem forced. You’ll be decried as a woman beater, and people will hate you.”

“I won’t play games, Chey; you’re going to admit to the world that you’re a dirty filthy fucking whore.”

“No, Higgins, I won’t confess to being something I’m not. You can’t force me to lie to feel vindicated and your murderous actions justified. You’re warped in the head, and I won’t participate in your fantasy. That time is done. You murdered Mick; you assassinated those other two security guards. For what? A weak belief I led you on? Get real. None of my fans are treated differently. Yet you made shit a massive fucking deal, which is on you.” I refuted angrily. This wasn’t my fault. Higgins was mentally sick, as were most stalkers.

“Do as you’re told!” Higgins spat, spittle forming at the corners of his mouth.

“Bollocks. Never.” Higgins struck me hard across my cheekbone.

“Warning you, Chey,”

“No, I’m telling you. Phone for someone to collect me or pay the price. You’re wanted for three murders, kidnapping and attempted murder. I’m damn sure there’re other crimes too. Either call someone or leave your cell and run!” I pushed. Higgins’ hand twitched again.

“Cheyenne…”

“Screw you. I won’t perform on demand. You make me sick with your superior outlook, yet you’re nothing more than a lowlife. A filthy murderer of innocents and a fucking whacked out psych job. Mick was worth a hundred, a thousand of you. Tobias and you both thought you were entitled to own me because I was famous.I belong to no man!Hear me, Higgins, I defy you and everything you stand for. Go ahead, strike me, show me what sort of guy you are. Because I know.” Higgins let out a roar, and a fist hit my face just as I turned my head, and it became a glancing blow. Heavily breathing as I stared at him, Higgins stepped away from me.

“This is evidence of your manipulative ways, forcing men to go against their nature.”

“Bullshit, that violence is inside you! Admit it, you’re getting off on the fact I can’t run, that I’m helpless and at your mercy. The truth is, Higgins, because you have a cock, you think you’re something you’re not. That a dick makes you superior. Crock of shit!

Higgins paced away from me, his mind working frantically. It was a stalemate, and I knew it. He couldn’t force me to admit shit because there was no leverage. If Higgin’s had Jesse, I’d have admitted anything he wanted while sucking cock. Instead, without Jesse, Higgins was screwed. I imagine Higgins thought I’d be terrified and cave to his demands. But I recognised an emotion in Higgin’s eyes that he assumed was hidden. There was insanity that made me shudder, and Higgins didn’t mean to let me live either way.

As soon as I did what Higgins demanded, he’d kill me. If I refused to do what Higgins asked, he’d shoot me. Either way, I’d die. I’d buy time by consenting to Higgins’ demands, but for what? To grab a few more hours before my murder? No, I wanted this game to end on my terms. There was no hope that Higgins would release me. The humanity I’d expected to reach didn’t exist, and I was so tired. I was worn out by individuals like Tobias and Higgins, who stole the joy from my work and the gift I gave to people.

If I allowed Higgins to force me into this farce, then my reputation would be forever tainted. Most fans would dismiss the confession as forced by a nutcase on an idiotic mission. But there’d always be a few crazies or conspiracy theorists who would believe it was true. Higgins had no justification for his craziness, and I wouldn’t allow Higgins to use a fake statement to crow. No, I was Cheyenne Markham, singer, survivor, and fighter. Paralysation hadn’t stopped me, and neither will this asshole.

“Last chance, Chey,” Higgins grunted.

“For what? The option of allowing you to tarnish my reputation, ruin my image. Shove your false narrative down everyone’s throats. No, Higgins. I won’t play by your rules.”

Higgins growled, the sound frightening, and I sensed he was close. I said a quiet goodbye to Jesse, and my mind briefly touched upon Celt. Celt would never know that I’d given him a second chance, and it was something I regretted. Hellfire and the police were too late for a rescue, but now, the reckoning between Higgins and me had arrived. Higgins wouldn’t accept a plea for time so that I could compose a message admitting my imagined faults.

I’d bet money Higgins had composed what he wanted me to say. Higgins couldn’t trust me, and I think he’d realised that if I got in front of a camera, I’d say what I wished. Without a noise, Higgins launched in my direction. A scream left my lips as Higgins toppled the chair backwards. The wood broke under my legs as Higgins’ heavy weight landed on top of me.

I raised my arms and offered a jab at his neck, which caught Higgins by surprise. He slapped me hard enough to stun me, and Higgins’ hands clenched around my throat. I grabbed his thumbs, trying to prize his fingers away, but it was useless. Dark patches appeared in my sight as I struggled to remove those meaty paws, choking the life out of me. I was undoubtedly over-matched because I couldn’t move my hips or legs.

With Higgin’s weight on me and grip secured firmly around my throat, I knew I was finished. Strangulation isn’t a great way to die. My lungs screamed for air as I tried freeing the hands strangling me. I fought as hard as I could, raking Higgins’s wrists with my nails. I was determined DNA evidence be found. In one last act of desperation, I jabbed towards Higgins’ eyes and failed miserably as the pinpricks of darkness swarmed into an overwhelming force, and I passed into oblivion.

Chapter Ten.

“What have we got?” Chance asked as he entered the house. He’d sent Hellfire out searching for leads and called in favours from their coalition. Every biker associated with Hellfire was now aware that a brother's woman was missing. And that Chey was in dire straits because she was paralysed and couldn’t run from her kidnappers. Gold had returned to the station to put alerts out, and the media had caught wind of the kidnapping. They were solidly camped outside the police depot and building, waiting for any titbit to filter down.

“Nothing, we’ve got fucking nothing,” Saint grunted from his stance in the corner.

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