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With his eyes locked on me, he breaks down in the arms of the man who’s pushing him forward.
I thought I’d felt pain in my life. But nothing I have been through comes anywhere near close to watching the two men I love more than anything in my life hurt.
It proves to me that doing this, that putting myself here in the middle of this, no matter what happens next, was the right thing to do.
While we’re in here, they’re all out there, waiting to strike.
Zay’s moved into a row of pews and he sits there as if he’s waiting for a service to begin, too afraid to do anything but what he’s told.
I can understand why. I don’t need to look at Alex to know I’ve no idea what they’ve been through.
“Now everyone is here… where were we?” Pete lifts the knife again, and it glints off the low light and candles that are flickering ominously throughout the vast space around us. “Oh yes. We’re about to remind everyone exactly who you belong to.”
Before he’s finished speaking, he pulls Alex’s shirt from my body and slices straight up the middle, exposing my bra to them.
Alex roars like a wild animal, but I don’t make a sound. Not even a whimper leaves my throat as I resign myself to what will probably happen.
All I can do is hope that everyone on the outside moves in quickly enough to stop the inevitable. Because if it happens, I’ve no idea how any of us will come back from it.
16
ALEX
The second Zay’s name was mentioned, any hope that I was going to be able to keep my shit together throughout this withered and died.
I knew it wouldn’t help. That it would only make this victory sweeter for them. But I couldn’t stop myself.
He doesn’t deserve this.
She doesn’t deserve this.
But while I’m stuck up here, there’s very little I can do about any of it.
Why is she even here?
She shouldn’t fucking be here.
If they had her, they never would have shown me an old video of her camming. They’d have found a more up to date way of torturing me. Just like they are now.
Evie stands strong between the two sick fucks as they strip my shirt from her body.
It’s another piece of evidence to point toward her not always being here. The last time I saw that t-shirt, I was putting it in the laundry at Dad’s.
There’s no reason for her to have it unless she’s been there.
Unless they’ve been taking care of her.
And if that’s the case, then why the fuck have they allowed her to walk in here and put herself in the firing line?
She’s not stupid. She had to have been aware of what might happen should she come anywhere near these pricks.
But she’s done it.
She’s done it for you,a little voice shouts in the back of my head.
She’s here for you. For you and Zay.
As much as I hope that thought is right, I really fucking hate it, because watching as they strip my shirt from her body and drag her leggings from her feet, all I want to do is rip the two of them limb from limb for touching what’s mine. I don’t care how much they’ve paid for her. She’s mine.
