by Dark,A. A.
“Yes. Mmm. Yes.”
Her back arched and I blinked through the blood smearing her entire face. She was moaning and laughing and it didn’t quite make sense to me. Why was she bleeding? Or maybe it was me? Me …?
Vivid scenes burst into my mind and I was screaming … trying to push her off while her hands shot out and she attempted to claw out my eyes.
“No! No!”
“Main Master, wake up. Main Master.”
The voice was louder. I swallowed convulsively as my eyes shot open. My entire body was covered in sweat and my cock was throbbing through the spell she’d always cast on me.
“Are you okay? I think you were having a bad dream.”
My eyes shot over to Abbot. “No fucking shit. What?”
He grabbed the water, handing it to me. “It’s almost time. You wanted to be woken up.”
“Hmm?” I gulped it down, jerking through the pain that made itself know. “What are you talking about?”
“The red light. You asked me to wake you when it started. Estevan is going to stream it to my phone, remember?”
The cup nearly fell from my fingers as I held it back out to him. I drew my legs up and pressed the button for the bed to rise. It was almost impossible to move without great amounts of pain. My head and arm were throbbing and sharp sensations shot through my ass. Maybe I shouldn’t have stopped the heavier medication so soon. It hadn’t been enough time, but damn if I was going to be trapped in those dreams more than I had to be. What if I wouldn’t be able to wake up on my own? Fuck that. I’d take the pain over having her carve me up in my dreams, too.
“What are you doing?” I ground out. “Come closer, I want to watch.”
“Just a moment.” Abbot pulled the chair next to the bed, angling the phone so that I could see the screen. The guards were in the main room just outside the White Room hall. I could feel my pulse increasing in rhythm as the low volume of their talking buzzed in the background. They were joking. About what, I wasn’t sure. The hospital door opened and I yelled at the nurse to get out as I went back to the screen.
“You’ve given them strict orders not to kill her?”
“Yes, Main Master. They know.”
“Good.”
The camera seemed to be strapped to the guard’s chest. His movement had me leaning in closer. Fear began to slip in as I thought of Everleigh—my wife. She had loved me when she wasn’t hating me for what I did to her. She tried so hard to make me happy. Her hugs. Her kisses. The way she’d caress my face as we’d lay in bed and stare at each other after the best sex of my life …
Fuck, what did I do to her? What had I turned her into?
The guards laughed and my eyes burned through the realization of what I could have had. I used to live such a grand life on the outside world. I was respected and sought after by women. But I never wanted them. I couldn’t hurt them like I dreamed. It was all an act up there. I used to hate having to hide who I was really was, but having Everleigh, I almost wished I could erase the last few weeks and go back and be that man for her. The lawyer, the polished gentlemen I portrayed. He could have made her the happiest woman on earth. Her love would have lasted a lifetime if I would have stayed in that other mindset. Instead, she got the worst part of me.
“Crazy bitch is going to wish she was never born by the time we get done with her.”
My fists clenched at the guard’s remark and I fought the poisonous pleas of my softer side. Of the picket fence and the nights of romancing a woman who knew better. That life would never be. Especially after what I did … what she did.
I had to stop this. It was like I was the one with battered wife’s syndrome.
“The others are preparing the halls. It won’t be much longer now.”
My annoyance built as love and hate dueled. “Can you tell them to hurry?”
Abbot reached over, speaking into the radio at his shoulder, but it didn’t help me. My stomach twisted and the evil in me shot to the front because of it. I should put an end to this and have them kill her. I should have her put in the stocks in City Center to teach her the ultimate lesson. Let the Masters use her body until she was dead. Let them rape and beat her until her face was mush like Master Max’s slave’s had been.
I wiped the sweat from my brow that came at the visual thought. No, I wouldn’t go that far. The beatings and doses of fear she could undergo, but that was it. “Do they have a plan?”
Abbot glanced over but went back to gazing at his phone. “If they do, they didn’t tell me. I just gave them your order—she was free game, but wasn’t to be killed.”
City Center came back and with what I saw, so did red-hot jealousy. “Well, they know better than to rape her. She’s my wife.”
Again, he came to look at me. “You didn’t say that. You said you didn’t care what happened to her, as long as she was kept alive. You even stressed that part.”
“They can’t rape the Main Master’s wife, Abbot. She’s still my fucking wife. Like, real wife. Wife. We said vows. Wife!”
God, why couldn’t I stop repeating it! The damn word kept looping in my head, over and over. And I could see Everleigh in that white dress, holding my hands. Staring up at me. All she had ever wanted was a good Master. She wanted to be happy. I had promised her that. I promised her kids. Her eyes had lit up so full of surprise and hope. I had been happy in that moment. Even if it had been a lie.
Now, look at her. She was a fucking basket case because of what I did. And me. My face was fucked, more so than my ass. Hadn’t the doctor told me in my drugged state that I’d only been given a few stitches along the outside of my entrance? But my face … Fuck, who was I kidding. My face was her prize. Even as twisted and fucked up as it was, we held each other’s scars. Proof of our ownership over one another. I may have feared her, but there was beauty there. Dark, Whitlock-type beauty. In truth, we were living our own violent, little fairytale. Two monsters, loving each other the only way they knew how in such an environment.
“Estevan, can you hear me? Estevan!”
Abbot yelled again, just as a loud alarm blasted through the speaker of the phone. Red flashed, illuminating the room. Abbot thrust the phone in my hand, yelling even louder into the radio at his shoulder. When an answer didn’t come, he was sprinting for the door. And me … I was seething as the barred metal door swung open.
Chapter 4
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“No. I couldn’t have. Bram, enough of this! Tell them I didn’t write that poem. Tell them you’re alive.”
I knew he wasn’t going to answer me back this time, but I continued to talk to him, regardless. If he heard me from the cameras, maybe he would give in and put a stop to this. If not, the benefits outweighed the appearance if my husband was watching. I wasn’t sure if anyone was, but I needed to cover all bases just in case.
As I stared down at Bram’s poem, I couldn’t deny what I was looking at. It appeared to be a sloppier version of my writing … but … I hadn’t written those words. At least, I didn’t remember doing so. And what about everything else throughout? The book was destroyed. When could it have happened? I had spent weeks searching to see what was so important to Lyle. Had I really known where it was the entire time?
I broke from the page, shaking my head and glancing at the walls for the hundredth time. God, I had thought to act even crazier when I talked to Abbot about it earlier, but was I actually going insane like I feared? Nothing was for certain anymore. Lies were weaving with truth. Manipulations were growing into complicated calculations. How had I lost so much of my control? I should have waited a little longer before getting my revenge. I should have …
“You fall so easily into their games.”
My head jerked to the side to stare at the wall to the left of my bed.
“What do you know about games? Who are you?”
A man laughed and I pursed my lips in aggravation.
“There are many things I know. For one, they’re fucking with you. I bet
they’re even playing your husband. He’s the Main Master, isn’t he?”
I put off his words as the memory of the whispering in the cell next to mine came back. Hadn’t there been someone in there with him? It sounded like it at the time, but I’d been so focused, I had tried to ignore it. What if he had just been talking to himself?
I looked down at the book again, praying the man knew something I didn’t. Then again, if the guards were playing a game on me, that wasn’t reassuring either. “You should really mind your own business. Don’t you know it’s dangerous to interfere with the goings-on of Masters and guards?”
He paused. “That can be debatable. I think it’s more dangerous for them to cross slaves who have nothing left to lose. We’re more inclined to go out on a limb to survive their sick ways. Wouldn’t you agree?”
He knew of my past. I could tell by his tone. “I guess it depends on the situation. Crossing the elite can have consequences. Obviously. You’re not in here for nothing.”
“Maybe I am. Maybe I did nothing wrong.”
“That’s highly unlikely. Besides, it doesn’t matter. You need to leave me alone.”
“No, we need to talk.”
The light flickered and I glanced up as the man next to me cursed, loudly. Pitch black took over, dying out as red flooded the white room I was in. Alarms rang out and I dropped the book letting my palms fly up to cover my ears. Terror was the only thing bringing them straight down.
“Red light! Red light!”
My door flew open and I shot to my feet hearing the woman’s shrill screams begin to be echoed by others down the long hallway. Footsteps pounded and where instinct told me to run, I only made it to the entrance of my room before I jerked to a stop. Weapons were lining the hall—a club with spikes, multiple knives of different length, and hatchets. Prisoners raced forward, immediately spinning to bury their blades in other slaves. Fear had me pushing myself into the door in horror as the guards stalked through the main entrance. They instantly began beating the prisoners back with their thick batons. Although I knew they had murder in mind, their eyes were only for me as they marched forward.
My gaze cut over, seeing a younger man racing for the knife not feet away from me. Our gazes locked and I threw myself forward, scooping up the small weapon just before he went plowing into me. We hit hard, sliding against the tile floor. A yell poured from my mouth and I fought his grip on my wrist, but he wasn’t trying to get the weapon free like I knew he could have.
“So, we meet face to face.”
The familiar voice told me he was the one from next door. A younger man, at that. I thrashed under him, afraid of his intentions. “Get off!”
“They’re here for you. This is your red light, you know that, right? I hear there’s lots more to come.”
Dark hair fell over one of the guy’s light colored eyes while he pretended to wrestle me. At his stare staying toward the men headed in our direction, I believed him.
“What is this? What’s happening?”
“Your husband’s revenge.” He looked down. “And I’m going to help you survive it, but I need that knife.”
My head turned, meeting the woman’s stare from the cell across from mine. She was balled up on the floor, still screaming—still staring at me. I whipped my head back to the man on top of me.
“What’s your name?” I thrust the weapon in his hand, not questioning his loyalty. The guards were running now. Sprinting right for us.
“Eleven, for short. Up!”
The weight disappeared so fast, I was delayed in obeying. I pushed to my feet just as he was ducking the blow from one of the guards.
“Nineteen! Forty-three!”
Two slaves jerked to a stop, racing in our direction. I could barely think what it meant as I shuffled away from the guard who lunged for me. His arm reared back and even though I threw myself to the right, the end of the baton caught my shoulder. The force had me spinning to the floor. I slid against the ground, screaming as his arm flung back and he connected against my stomach. Something on his chest had his actions fading out. It was connected to him and the center was no larger than a quarter.
Camera?
Even though I could barely breathe, my foot flew up, connecting between his legs. A groan exploded from him and the top of his body dropped down just enough for me to slam the bottom of my foot into his face. He yelled out and I scrambled to climb above him.
Crazy. Yes. I had to be crazy if I was going to keep West away from me.
“Husband, is that you? How are you feeling? How’s my face? Husband!”
I shook the guard, screaming the last into the camera. Wildness shot through me and with it, the madness I clung to like a shield. Like my own personal protector.
More guards rushed up, trying to get past the three men who now separated us. Red illuminated their angry faces making them look even more demented. They were enraged at the wall of men between us, but they weren’t fighting the slaves.
“Bitch!” Gravity disappeared as the guard slammed me over. My back hit the floor so hard that air left my lungs. Out of my peripheral, I could see the slave’s turning back to look at me. The guard’s hand grasped around my wrist and I was drug inside my room, not feet away. Yells erupted in the distance and boots stomped closer, breaking around the slaves and following us in. I was thrown onto the bed and the guard immediately began tearing at the white gown I wore. My greatest fear left me screaming and moving without thought.
“No! I’ll kill you like I’m going to kill him! Husband, don’t do this! I’m going to kill you!”
My fists swung, connecting against the bottom of the man’s face. It did nothing to deter the guard as he began to jerk at his pants. Heavily, his hand pushed into my bare chest, weighing me down.
“Grab her arms! Help me get this bitch still.”
The hold was immediate from the other two guards. One’s fingers locked in my hair while he fondled my breast, rubbing his thumb over my nipple. Screams tore from me and I put everything I could into jolting my body back and forth. Digits pushed into me deep and forceful, turning my yell into a deep sob at the violation. The cries that left me were filled with my rage, but I couldn’t deny they were laced with my defeat, as well.
“Husband! No. P-please! Make them stop. Make them stop!”
“Don’t worry, he says hello.”
The hit was like a hammer to my face. It cut off my sob, but it wasn’t what I cared about. My mouth flew open at the force of the guard’s cock slamming into me. Again, air evaded, and nothing registered as time seemed to slow through the ultimate intrusion.
No matter how hard I fought, these men had the perfect weapon. Their cocks could have been a gun for all the times I’d had the trigger pulled on me. The damage each rape caused was like a bullet to my brain. Bleeding me out. Killing me even more.
Colored blurred and wetness rolled down the side of my face as the hand in my hair left. Somehow I registered the guard pinning my wrists in one of his hands. Subconsciously, my hips twisted and jerk, but I was barely aware I was still fighting. Yes. Defeat. It blanketed me in a shock to my system. My body suddenly went limp and I did the only thing I knew. I faded. I disappeared. I wasn’t here. I wasn’t going through this again. I was dead. Dead to the men who laughed and yelled in my face. My body rocked as the thrusts hardened, but I wasn’t feeling it. I was floating—so far away that all I saw was the violence I dreamed I would cause. For the first time since I’d been within the white walls, thoughts came in vividly painted pictures. They blinded me, growing with possibilities and choices.
No matter what happened, I would remember this. I would never forget this moment of being abandoned. Of being betrayed. Beat. Raped … Alone.
“I bet the Main Master is loving every minute of this. Look at you cry. Look at those tears.”
More laughter and words came through and I let it all drift in my mind around me. I wasn’t sure how long it lasted. Yelling somehow registered, even if I c
ouldn’t quite process what was being said.
“Hey! Hey! You motherfucking—” Warm wetness splattered across my face like ice water. Sounds of weapons hitting forced its way through and drew me in from the visions. A face was suddenly over me, and then another. Two blurry sets of features, so far away that I didn’t quite have the mental strength to see them clearly. Revenge. It was the only thing I could focus on.
“Mistress? It’s me, Eleven. Can you hear me?”
“Love, what are you waiting for? Show them who you belong to. I’m watching. Let me see who you really are.” Bram.
“I am not your love. Besides, you can’t handle it,” I mumbled. “I may kill you, too.”
“Mistress?”
I blinked, slowly, seeing nothing but the guard lying on the ground. He was half out of it, shaking his head back and forth. I could still feel his cock inside of me. Even for as small as it had been, the damage was done.
I turned in a haze, taking in the slaves who had helped me. They were staring … waiting? I wasn’t sure what was happening. Eleven was holding a baton, but I didn’t miss the knife in his other hand or the smaller one tucked into his makeshift belt. My stare stopped on it and I was beyond instinct. I was a soul acting on nothing but vengeance. I threw the front of my body forward, ripping the weapon free of his waist. He didn’t stop me as I turned and climbed on top of the guard. My hand drew back and I stabbed into the side of the man’s throat with every ounce of hate I carried. Blood sprayed out onto my hand and the jolt that reverberated through my fingers from his shock was ecstasy. The pain had his eyes flying open wide and he turned his hips to the side, nearly knocking me off as he tried to scramble away. What started out as once turned into too many times for me to count. Each stab of the blade was harder than the next. Stickiness coated up to my wrists making it almost impossible to get a good grip, but I continued to thrust into him like he’d done to me. Harder. Harder. Harder.