by Mason, V. F.
She nods but asks hopefully, all while her husband is giving us confused stares, with her lover avoiding my gaze like the plague, “Tomorrow?”
“If she so wishes,” Eudard barks, and this time, he is the one who painfully tugs me to the exit, ordering, “And if you all value your existence, shut your mouths.” They don't argue with that, and I hastily move after him, doing my best to catch up with his steps, almost stumbling in my heels.
Thankfully, we just have to walk around the house and James is already there, laughing about something with one of the valet guys, but he jumps quickly to our aid, throwing Eudard the keys to his car.
Does he always just leave it by the entrance and no one dares to take it away or what? He really does abuse his royal power, but at this moment, I’m glad.
Mustering a reassuring smile for James, I sit inside the car while the valet guy holds the door open. Eudard does the same, turning the engine over, and the door is barely closed before he speeds away from the mansion, driving to the gates so fast that my back is pressed into the seat and I grab the handle to keep myself steady.
“I hate that he touched you.” His hands slide over the steering wheel, fisting it so hard his knuckles turn white. “Can’t stand it.” The silence in the car is almost deafening after that, because I’m not sure what to say.
Doesn't it sound kind of obsessive, all things considered? He’s known me what… three days and has this strong reaction to me?
If his desire to possess Cassandra is so strong that he detests any man in close proximity to me?
Conflicted emotions rush through me, and I’m not sure which to focus on.
Part of me hates him for it, because this version of me is not real; it’s an illusion created for a specific purpose. My face, my eyes, my behavior… none of them are truly me.
But the other part is thrilled that, even in a different mask, I have the power to evoke such emotions in him toward me.
Is it possible that subconsciously he wants me because I remind him of Arianna?
Of me?
Resting my head against the window, I close my eyes and will those thoughts to forever vanish, because they are ridiculous. All we ever had was a conflicted relationship with one night ten years ago.
Why would he see me in a desirable woman? Based on what Ethan says, he has enough female company as it is.
The stupid tears form in my eyes, and I blink them away, hating how unbalanced I am around him.
How could I have ever thought it would be easy to come back here? Face them?
But more importantly…
Face him?
There is no power in this world that can make me immune to Eudard Campbell, and that’s the truth set in stone.
And isn't it tragic?
Because no matter what I want, we can never be anything but this fleeting memory in infinity.
We are always on different sides of the fence.
The sound of the door closing brings me back to the present, and I gasp in surprise when I see we are parked on my driveway already. Eudard is walking around the car, snatching my door open and motioning for me to get out.
Removing the strands of my hair from my face, I get out carefully so my dress doesn't get ruined and accept his splayed palm as he helps me.
We still stay silent while I twist my hands, turning to face him. The skirt of my dress brushes across my legs while his brooding green pools still study me, giving me nothing but darkness.
He perches on the hood of the car, clearly waiting for me to go inside the house before driving off as if his earlier words or the events of this evening don't matter.
Sliding my fingers over the chiffon, I lift the skirt of it and turn around, moving to my house, when a similar flashback from the past plays in my mind.
Didn’t we separate exactly like this the last time around? With him declaring something to me and me running away from the intensity of it?
I came to this town to forever rest the ghosts that haunt me.
Isn't he one of them, even if he was not involved in those horrific events?
I halt my movements, breathing in the evening air while fear along with desire and curiosity sink into me, traveling through my veins like an electric wire awakening everything in its path.
But maybe sleeping with him will clean me of the hands that touched me last and allow me to move on with my life, and someday… someday build it with someone else.
I’m terrified of giving him this chance, and access to my flesh, when so many used and abused it.
But I’m more terrified of never taking this chance.
With determination fueling me, I spin around and dart toward him, but he has already guessed my intention and meets me midway, our mouths clashing in a passionate kiss that changes everything.
I succumbed to the devil once again.
But maybe he is the only one who has the power to control the monsters from hell.
Chapter Twelve
“Forget about it, my child. Forget about it as if it never happened. As if it was someone else. And then look around you and appreciate everything you have.”
The nurse used to say that to me a lot in the hospital when she tended to my wounds, sighing at all the bruised skin or how I jumped at every touch.
But despite my agony and hysterics, I couldn’t help but throw my pillow at her every time she preached it.
Forget?
No one ever forgets that.
Appreciate what I have?
They took away my past, my present, and my future.
No one showed me mercy.
Why should I?
From the memories of Arianna Griffin…
Ralph breathes heavily, finishing in the condom and groaning above me, his fingers digging into my hips before he whispers, “God, yes.” He plasters his forearms on either side of my head and asks, “Was it good for you?”
I’m lying immobile under him, my gaze on the starry night sky above, focusing on the Big Dipper that I noticed around the time Ethan raped me on the ground, grunting the whole time.
Frank was first to do the honors, since he couldn’t fucking wait, according to him.
First, I screamed and begged for mercy till my throat got sore and nothing but raspy whispers left my mouth. Then I used all my strength to struggle and push them away, scratching their faces and shoulders, kicking their groins, but they had a solution for that.
Two of them held my hands and the other one raped me until they switched positions, while Cole continued to read the letter over and over again so no one would miss a thing.
But he also stopped sometimes, watching with fascination to the point of Frank asking him if he wanted a piece of this hot candy.
Cole refused; according to him, it was too savage to do it like that.
I froze on the ground, transforming this into the ice-skating rink, imagining different music and configurations I could skate, blocking away the reality. So I won’t hear their grunts, pleasure moans, or feel their hands and mouths on me.
It must have happened around the time Ralph decided to do round three between them all, and they flicked open a bottle of bourbon, gulping it greedily and pouring some on my breast.
I simply couldn’t feel a thing.
“I could almost imagine painting her,” Cole says, bringing me back to reality as he looms above me, his eyes scanning me. “A tarnished Venus.” He leans closer, rubbing my red locks with his fingers. “What a sight she would present.” Then he blinks and excitement crosses his face. He turns his head to Ralph while cracking his neck from side to side. “Let’s take her to the church.”
“Why the fuck would we do that?” Frank asks, lighting a joint and taking a greedy pull. He blows out the smoke, the sweet smell filling the space between us and mixing with the scent of sex.
The bile rises in my throat, and I arch my back, ready to spit it out, but I can’t move even a muscle to shift to the side. Breathing through the nose, I allow the pain to graduall
y go away and fall back on my shoulders again, scratching my skin, but I just wince.
What is a scratch against torn flesh and rape?
“Look at her!” Cole waves at me and then lifts the torn dress higher over my hips. “She is sexually ravished, almost no clothes on. It’s like a Venus that fell from the graces after she indulged in the pleasure of flesh.”
“Fuck, another stupid talk about art,” Ethan grumbles, putting his shirt on and barely glancing at me. “We need to take her back home and go to bed too. We have football practice tomorrow.”
Ralph rubs his chin and kneels next to me, slapping my cheeks, but I continue to gaze at the sky, holding on to the calm that almost freezes the blood and air in my body.
It’s like I’m momentarily placed in a vacuum where no emotions, reality, or pain exist. The only thing that allows me to stay in this situation is that monsters are still next to me.
They still want to feed on my flesh, tarnish it.
They crave my surrender and my pain, and who am I to refuse them?
Even God can’t stop them, because I prayed and prayed someone would come to my rescue.
But no one did, not even the devil himself.
“Eachann is there,” he says, and Ethan frowns.
“Why? After Pat kissed him, I thought he went home searching for Eudard?” Even the names of the guys who I gave my body and heart to don’t affect me. How strange is that?
I don’t blame Eachann though. I’m sure he never wrote the letter; he couldn’t.
Patricia did.
“Let’s go to the church and put her there so I can paint her. He practices the organ there every night. We might catch him and thank him for his generosity.”
“Come on, Ralph.” I shift my gaze from the sky to Frank, who exclaims loudly and punches Ralph on the arm. “After Cole helped us, we should do the same. Plus, it’s gonna be fucking fun. No one attends church at this hour, and Pastor Joseph is asleep.” His eyes glide over me and his mouth curves as he pulls at his joint again. “We’ll have this night forever memorialized on Cole’s canvas.”
I close my eyes, going back to the ice-skating rink, and hum a tune while they continue to argue about how they are going to do it.
In a few minutes, someone picks me up, and even though my insides scream to get away, my body can’t do anything, and in seconds, I succumb to the darkness overtaking me, claiming me as hers and luring me into the land of sleep.
* * *
Laughter echoing in the space stirs me in my sleep, and I groan loudly, agonizing pain piercing me from head to toe, and my mouth opens to shout my protest, but no sounds come.
Just a muffled mumble that dies in my raspy throat.
“This is not fucking funny, Ralph,” Ethan barks, rearranging me on something before I feel someone lift my leg and place it a bit apart from the other, while someone else ruffles my hair, putting it above me. “Maybe help instead of just gulping that fucking drink.”
“Oh come on, don’t be so mean. Last time—” He pauses when the organ music rocks off the walls, and I try to lift my hands to cover my ears but can’t.
Glancing at my wrists, I notice they are both restrained with tight rope on my chest, my elbows bent while I’m lying on the floor of the altar with the statue behind me.
We are in the church, the moonlight cascading down in different shades of color through the stained glass while Cole stands a few feet away from us with his sketchbook in hand, the sweat dripping from his forehead while he scratches his pencil on the paper. “So what? You’ll share a fucking sketch?” Frank grumbles, snatching the bottle from Ralph and sipping it. “Hard for us to enjoy something this small!”
Cole replies without taking his eyes away from the paper. “I’ll copy it on a bigger canvas, adding all the colors.” He huffs, pulling at his hair. “She doesn’t look perfect enough!”
Ethan frowns, glancing at me, and then kicks my leg a little to the side, exposing me even more to their gazes. My dress is half torn and hanging off me, my feet bare and aching as if they did something with them.
What would they want with them, though? “We put her exactly like you wanted. Get on with it before we get caught.” The organ music continues to play virtuously, only adding to this doom and despair around me.
Who can play music while these guys do such things to me? We grew up in this town under everyone’s eyes; no one sane would have supported it.
I try to lift myself up, rolling to the side, but Ralph kicks my shoulder, and I end up on my back again, hitting the space between my shoulder blades on the altar stairs and a cracking sound reverberates through me.
I scream as the pain travels all over me, but they don’t hear it. I breathe heavily, because they must have broken something. “Let’s add wax to it,” Cole suggests, running to the altar and grabbing a candle. I’m not sure how I can stay sane through all the pain rocking through me, but I focus on all the things he wants to do to me. “Ralph, drip it all over her skin.”
Even though my mind is hazy, I can’t help but wonder why everyone listens to him. He is not part of the founding five, a loner, yet the founding five kids do as he says.
Just what hides beneath Cole Calvin?
Frank obeys the order, dripping the wax on me, and the sting that comes from it barely registers in my mind. He drips it on the skin of my legs, stomach, breasts, and even face where it mixes with the wound from the rock Ralph hit me with.
He claimed it would highlight my pleasure.
“Enough!” Cole shouts and then sighs heavily. “I wish I had red paint to splash all over her. That would be epic.”
“Just add it on the canvas,” Ralph says, shifting uncomfortably and glancing at my toe while my gaze catches his. He frowns and then looks away as if ashamed.
I almost laugh at this thought, because people who can do something like this to a girl who repeatedly says no and that she doesn’t want it have no conscience.
They let their dark desires rule their life while scouting for helpless victims.
Frank though has a solution for that as he flicks his keychain open, and a small knife sticks out of it. We all got those things when we went camping a few years ago and everyone advised us to have it with us so we could save ourselves in different situations. It had a screwdriver, knife, bottle opener, everything on it.
And I’d carelessly left it at home for the first time tonight. Isn’t that ironic?
It’s like the whole universe conspired together to bring me to my downfall.
“What are you doing?” Ethan asks, and that’s when Frank digs it into my collarbone and drags the tip of it to my stomach, slowly drawing blood from my body. He removes it and then starts again on my stomach, getting right to it. Then he does the same with my thighs so slowly the droplets of blood are all over me and he wipes it away with his thumb, before smearing some on my cheek and forehead.
“Does it work, Cole?”
Cole gives him a thumbs-up and scratches the pencil loudly. As a short reprieve, the music stops and once again I beg, the soft keys of the organ wrapping around me like a leash, tugging on my throat as the music swallows my muffled scream. “Help.”
“This is sick,” Ethan says, stepping back and running his hands through his hair. “I didn’t sign up for this.” He motions at my blood and points a finger at Ralph. “We agreed only to sex her up since she wrote that letter. Now what the fuck are you doing? This is leaving traces!” he shouts, and Ralph shoves him to the side.
“You’re one to talk after breaking her finger in the first place.”
“What the fuck ever. It’s not like she is gonna talk about it. And besides, who cares?” Frank asks, lighting up another joint and chuckling. “It’s the best night of my life, I’m telling you.”
“You are high, you idiot. This will get us thrown in prison. The only reason she is so calm is because you injected her with a sedative earlier. We couldn’t have fucked her through all the thrashing.” Is this why I�
�m behaving like this?
How strange. I don’t even remember it.
“Oh, relax. We both know this stupid letter is fake as fuck. She said no a lot of times. We just wanted her enough to take her against her will,” Frank says and chuckles again, the sound grating on my nerves and sending shivers through me. “Besides, what are the Griffins gonna do anyway? Ralph’s father is the law. We’re safe.”
“The whole fucking town loves her.”
“And the town belongs to us,” Frank says and then barks, “What the fuck is he playing on that organ?”
“I have no clue. Eachann likes whatever he likes.”
My heart stops when I hear his name and then beats rapidly, filling with hope that I thought died on the cliff.
Eachann.
The sweetest boy.
He will save me or get his brother to.
“Eachann, help me,” I whisper, rasping through my chapped lips. “Please help me.” But the organ only speeds up its music as if fingers are moving on it relentlessly, and I rest my head on my shoulder, noticing him sitting by the organ in the distance, his back to me, but everything is so blurry I barely make out his features.
“Hey, Eachann! Wanna join the fun?” Frank calls, and Cole hushes him.
“Don’t interrupt him. The music adds to the overall mood and fuels my work. Besides, he doesn’t want her. I told you.” He told them? So it was Cole’s doing? “Frank, try nipping but just nipping,” he warns, holding out his finger, “her wrists so it seems like she slashed her veins.”
“That’s sick,” Frank says, taking a long pull from his joint and then grinning. “But I like it.”
“Fuck this shit. I’m leaving. I didn’t sign up for this,” Ethan cries out, worry etching his face, and he grabs something from the bench, strolling toward the door it seems when Ralph stops him.
“We are in this together. Don’t think you can hightail your ass from here and then pretend like you were never part of it. And besides, if this one talks”—he kicks my foot, his boots pressing on the tip of my toes—“our families will cover it up,” he says to him, and Frank straddles me, lifting up my wrist while I gasp in agony.