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“Please, no,” I beg for mercy. Don’t hurt me. Don’t rape me or beat me. I’m still a human being with thoughts and feelings. I deserve the same respect as every other person on the planet.
“Do you really want to die, you stupid bitch?”
My heart plummets as I slowly turn around, shuffling my feet, and I bend over the gross, sticky desk with my naked rear end in the air. Next thing I know, I feel the barrel of the gun pressing into my back and a sob leaves my lips.
“Spread your legs.”
“Please, don’t—“
“Do as I say, you worthless cunt!” He lacks all sympathy and compassion. He won’t waste a second thinking about killing me. He would just do it so I do as he says.
A splitting pain spreads between my hips and I scream with every breath in my body, the ache traveling up my spine and down my legs. It hurts so bad I feel like passing out, but it only lasts a second. My anus throbs from whatever he just did, but I’m glad it's over.
Is it really over though?
“Remind him not to step out of line again and, if you haven’t done as you’re expected by morning, you’ll be shipped off before noon.”
The door slams, and I fall to the ground crying my eyes out. I want to scream for Xander or Davina to come to my rescue, but I don’t think I can make a sound other than crying at this point. The whole experience with Browning may have only been a few minutes, but the trauma from it will last for years.
Maybe even decades.
CHAPTER9
XANDER
The meeting ran longer than I expected, longer than most of the club meetings I’ve attended, and all I can think about is getting Laura the fuck out of this place. I didn’t feel right leaving her with my mother. I love my mom to death, but look at what happened the last time I left those two together. It wasn’t her fault, but bad things happen when I’m not there to keep her safe.
This isn’t some misplaced sense of duty, though. This isn’t because Laura is innocent and doesn’t deserve this life. No, it’s because she means a lot to me. Every single day it becomes more apparent. I never want to let her go. Her presence is beyond comforting. It’s euphoric. The way she hums tunes and dances like a complete goofball while she’s washing dishes or cooking is absolutely mesmerizing. She’s so free and pure, unlike anyone I’ve ever met.
I wish I could be like her, but I have to always be on my toes, especially when I’m protecting her. If I take my eye off the ball for a moment, someone could hurt her and irrevocably change the vibrant young woman she is.
I never want her to change. She’s perfect the way she is. The fact that her ex was such a douchebag to say to her that she didn’t have any personality and wasn’t good enough for him, makes my blood boil.
For fuck’s sake, I nearly lose my shit being around her every day. I want to kiss her, pin her against the damn wall, and fuck her until she can’t take it anymore. My thoughts are consumed by her every moment of the day.
I step out of the garage where the meetings are held and find Roxy standing there, looking freaked out. She’s trying to hide it, but I see it as plain as day.
Something happened and my mind goes to the worst place.
“What is it?” I ask as the others spread out.
“It’s Laura,” she says. It’s the words I feared she would say.
“What happened?” I grit the words out, trying not to attract attention to us. That’s the last thing Laura needs.
I follow closely behind Roxy, praying Laura’s okay.
“We have no clue. All I know is Browning dragged her away about ten minutes ago, and when she came out of his office, she was a nervous wreck. She won’t say what happened or anything.”
God-fucking-dammit! I should’ve never left her alone. I knew he was planning something. I just had no idea what it was.
“Where is she?” I demand and grab her arm.
“The bathroom by the girl’s bedrooms.” I’m consciously aware of the eyes on me and I know everyone watches me to see if I’m going to break or screw up. I’m not and I’m not going to let anyone see that Laura might be in trouble. This is a private matter and it will stay that way unless it has to be aired out like dirty laundry.
As soon as we make it to the hall, away from prying eyes, I sprint for the bathroom, finding my mother standing outside with an ice pack on her cheek.
“Ma, what happened?” I ask, frantically.
