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Every time I think my soul or conscience, or whatever it is, can’t be damaged further, I’m proven wrong. My throat closes up, and I feel sick from having to speak the condemning words.
“So be it,” Rusty grins. “Grab your knives, Reapers. Let’s show the former King Cunt that the Reapers are men of their word.”
Noose chuckles and reaches into his pocket. Tears form in my eyes, blurring my vision, as he pulls a pocketknife out. A fucking pocketknife.
Not a big, scary-looking blade that could finish the job in seconds. Nope, I was right in my assumption the other day. The Reapers are going to drag it out, inflict the maximum amount of pain before Johnny tastes the sweet relief of death.
“Irina,” Noose calls out to the redheaded woman, who’s busy sucking my dad off. “Finish our treasurer off, and then go get Johnny.”
She pouts. “Can’t someone else do it?” Without waiting for his answer, she continues what she’s doing.
I force myself to look up at the dirty ceiling, counting the spots of mold. That’s preferable to watching my dad get… yeah, no. Just hell fucking no.
“Irina,” Rusty growls.
I wish I didn’t hear the sloppy sounds and my dad’s groans.
“Fine,” Irina snaps haughtily. “Brian, dear. You’ll have to wait until later.” There’s laughter in her tone, and I’m tempted to join in. Not because it’s funny, but because I like the thought of him being robbed of something he wants.
Fucker!
“I’ll come with you,” dad says, slapping her ass as they walk out of the room.
As I watch a blond Reaper force his cock down the throat of a crying girl that barely looks older than sixteen, I’m reminded of the BBQ the Kings had on the Fourth of July. The outrage I felt watching them paw at the Cunts without permission is laughable compared to what’s going on here.
The Reaper who said he’d like to fuck my ass bloody did just that a few days ago. Not to me, but I was forced to watch as he did it to… I don’t know her name. Apart from road names, there aren’t a lot of names being thrown around. It’s mostly bitch, cunt, and more to that effect.
“What the fuck?” the blond Reaper roars, bringing my attention back to him.
It all happens so quickly that if I’d blinked, I would have missed it. One second the crying girl is sucking him off, the next he lifts her into the air by her hair.
“You fucking bitch.” His voice sounds extra loud as everyone else goes quiet.
“What did she do?” The words are out of my mouth before I can tell myself to stay out of it.
He doesn’t look my way, as he sneers, “She fucking bit me.”
“I-I d-didn’t mean t-to,” the girl hiccups. “I-it was an a-accident.”
The Reaper shakes her hard and the girl screams even harder. Then he throws her against the wall while ordering two other women to hold her down. They scramble to the crying girl and force her arms back.
A third woman joins them, she’s wearing a wicked smile as she walks behind the girl and takes her head between her hands, holding her in place.
The blond Reaper walks over to a shelf and grabs something I can’t see. Then he returns to the girl, and when he shoves what looks like a dental gag into her mouth so she can’t close it, I see red.
“What are you doing to her?” I shout. I don’t even notice that I’m out of the chair until I’m next to the guy. “She said she didn’t mean to.”
Laughing, he pushes me away. “That’s none of your business, little girl.”
The words Rusty has called me so many times I’ve lost count grind on me. Mostly because I am a little girl. I’m weak, outnumbered, and completely alone.
I ball my hands into fists and repeat the question. “This little girl is making it her business,” I snap. “Tell me what you’re going to do.”
He doesn’t spare me as much as a glance or a word. Instead, he lifts the pliers in his hand and moves toward the girl who thrashes harder when he comes closer.
The entire thing is making me sick. From the women who help the Reapers, to the fact he’s going to remove her teeth for something that could happen to anyone.
I look around between the women present. Not a single one looks like she’s willing to help. “Why are you just standing there?” I accuse. “She needs your help.”
