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She jumped. “Almost.” She walked to the bathroom and bent to turn on the water and winced. The butt plug.
Turning on the shower would give her more time to figure out an escape, but there was no way she’d be able to climb with that thing inside her. She crouched in the shower, letting the water wash away the blood on her back, and gasped as she pulled at the offensive. It was metal and at least four inches long and so wide she bit back a scream trying to remove it from her body. Once the widest part was freed, the rest slipped out easily and she stood. The hot water soothed her sore body and she stood there for a long moment, trying to wash the sticky blood from her back. Then she stepped out, leaving the water running.
She rummaged around the bathroom and bedroom with a towel wrapped around her body, searching for something, anything, to wear, but the room was empty.
She slumped to her knees in the middle of the room, trying to figure out what to do.
She had two options. Either escape naked or stay and let Rafael and her father do who-knew-what to her for who-knew-how-long.
She looked between the door and the window several times, before tightening the towel around her chest and standing.
Better naked in the woods than clothed here in this cabin.
She pushed open the window, wincing as it squeaked, and crawled through the narrow opening. She hung on the windowsill for a long moment, afraid to let go.
She counted to three and released her hands, falling to the ground. She landed with a thud on the soft ground and didn’t feel anything break or give way. She glanced back up at the window and then turned to run into the woods.
Instead, she hit the broad chest of Jarrod, who grabbed her by the hair and slapped her across the cheek. “Nice try,” he growled. He yanked the towel away from her body and threw her to the ground, holding her in place by her hair. “Mr. Alvarez said if I caught you, I could do what I wanted to you.” He flashed a wicked grin. “Nothing like savagery in the woods.”
She screamed and fought his grip. She got in a swing on his face, scratching his cheek, and he growled and flipped her onto her stomach, holding her wrists to the ground and digging his knees into her thighs. He ran his hand across her ass and laughed. “Pulled out the plug, eh? Guess that means it needs to be filled with something else.”
She heard a zipper and he spread her legs wider. A moment later something pressed against her hole. It was hot and hard. He lay down on top of her and flexed his hips, pushing himself into her ass. It didn’t hurt as much as it would have had the plug not been forced in earlier, but it still hurt.
She fought him, bucking against him as best as she could, but he was too heavy. He pressed her face into the ground and she inhaled dirt. She coughed, struggling for oxygen and he fucked her hard and long.
Her face grew wet with tears, the dirt turning to mud that clung to her cheeks and itched.
“Yeah, fight me bitch. Your ass tightens with every movement.”
Emily froze, realizing he was just like the other men. The more she fought, the more they liked it. She squeezed her eyes shut and tried to ignore the invasion of her body. His hips slid against her bruised ass cheeks. The zipper of his pants dug abrasions into her sore skin.
He grunted as he thrust in and out, pressing against her torso. She could hardly breathe with his weight on her. A stick dug into her hip and another into her chest.
He laughed. “You stopped fighting? So now you like it? You like my dick in your ass?”
She stayed as still as she could, wincing with each movement.
“Mr. Alvarez was right. You are a fucking slut,” he growled into her ear. “You don’t fight me anymore. You like it. You like it.” He repeated the phrase with each thrust. It was all she could do to stay still and not fight, which is what he wanted.
When he slowed his thrusts and kissed her neck, telling her what a perfect little slut she was, she lost it and started fighting again.
He laughed and pulled her up to her knees, rocks digging into her skin. He thrust hard several times and let out a long groan.
She shivered in the cool air as he stood and adjusted himself back into his pants. She leaped to her feet to run away, but he caught her around her waist and hauled her back to the cabin.
Her father and Rafael were sitting on the couch, not far from Geoffrey’s dead, bleeding body, drinking brandy from snifters and chatting. They were both naked and Emily turned away. They’d been lovers in the past, bonding over their mutual disgusting depravity, and she tried not to wonder if they still were.
Rafael looked her over. “Thank you, Jarrod, for returning her. Did you enjoy fucking her?”
“I did.”
Rafael grinned. “Good. Go take her upstairs and clean her up, then take her to my bedroom. She needs to be reminded of what happens here.” He stared at Emily, his eyes hard. “Since Geoffrey is no longer capable of watching over you, I need to retrain you so you can live peacefully with your father again.” He tilted his head. “If you’re a good girl, I may even let you play your violin again, and we can restart your career on the right foot.”
Fifty-One
Mark and Davidwalked away from the third house, Rafael’s home outside of LA, dejected and unsure of what to do next. Rafael and Joe were not at any of their homes or studios. Mark sat down hard on the curb beside the late-model SUV David had rented to aid in their search, and ran his hands through his hair. “I don’t know what to do.”
David sat next to him. “Think back to what Emily told you of her past. Did she mention anything that could be helpful?”
