Irrevocable: A Sins of Ashville Abduction Dark Romance (Irrevocable Duet Book 1)

by Skye Callahan

  I clawed and kicked, but between the four of them, they deflected most of my attacks and managed to render my limbs useless.

  I already knew the rooms were fairly sound-proof, if they weren’t, all anyone would hear would be their neighbors having sex all day and night, but I was sure a scream would carry, even if I only had a second.

  Gabe flicked open a knife and pressed it to my throat. My vision was already dimming. I needed air.

  “We’ll let you breathe, but if you scream, I cut.”

  I nodded, anything was worth air, and I figured someone had to be on the way. The man behind me released my mouth and I sucked in a breath, almost coughing. I drew in breath after breath, as my body replenished its supply of oxygen and my vision slowly returned.

  “They’ll come get me,” I said. As my mouth opened to say more, Gabe shoved a wet cloth into my mouth and another put a piece of tape over it. Whatever the cloth was coated in had a slightly soapy taste.

  One man pushed me toward the bedroom. I tried to resist, but I felt sluggish, tripping over my own feet as I walked over the carpet. No, they had drugged me again. Scrawny kept one arm, while Gabe took the other and they dragged me to the bed.

  Gabe ripped off the tape and pulled the cloth out of my mouth, tossing it aside.

  “Feeling better?”

  “You fucking b—bastard,” I tripped over my own words. I waited for unconsciousness to come—hell, I longed for it since I wouldn’t have to be awake for their assault.

  He put a fresh piece of tape over my mouth, while the others pulled my arms and legs toward the corners of the bed to tie me down.

  I jerked as hard as I could, but it was a feeble attempt at best and only caused the ropes to cut into my skin and dig under the silver cuffs.

  I moaned through the tape again, hoping I could make just enough noise for someone to hear, but a heavy hand busted across my face leaving the taste of blood in my mouth.

  I sobbed, trying to swallow the liquids in my mouth before I choked. Gabe pulled off his belt and folded it over in his hand. I shook my head and sobbed, but he raised his hand and it came down with a thwap against my ribs. I screamed in pain and another strike followed.

  One of the men fisted my hair and put his finger over his lips to tell me to be quiet. Gabe moved the strikes down to my legs, while the other men grabbed and twisted at my breasts.

  Please, I hoped the drug would knock me out. Maybe even if I was awake I wouldn’t remember it afterward. Where the hell was the security team?

  The black-haired man’s gaze caught mine, and he hissed in my ear. “Pity they got the wrong mole.”

  My eyes widened and I screamed against the tape. The belt came down against my crotch and my scream turned into a cry and then sobs.

  I couldn’t breathe. My chest tightened and shook, tears rolled down my face, and gunk clogged my nose and throat.

  Gabe grabbed my chin. “Every sound you make will make everything hurt more,” he whispered with a rough, low voice.

  The belt came down on my thigh, a strike to my hip, and one across my breast. The room blurred as I sobbed into the piece of tape that held back my pleas and screams.

  One of the men jerked off his pants and climbed on top of me.

  I shook my head, mentally screaming for him to stop and shrieking into the thick tape. Another strike came down on my chest. The man on top of me took Gabe’s belt and pressed it against my neck, cutting off my air supply.

  What if no one comes to stop them, this time?

  I felt an excruciating slam of pain as he pressed inside me, but then the room went mercifully dark.

  Water splashed on my face and I roused. It was down to three men now; the scrawny man who’d dragged me down here was gone. My throat burned from my useless screams, and my body shook with a mixture of pain, anger, and adrenaline.

  I didn’t want to be awake for this.

  Another stepped forward, but Gabe shoved him back. “No way. It’s my turn.” He punched me in the gut and the ropes cut into my skin when I curled up in response. “Help me turn her over.”

  Oh, no, god no. I thought. But I didn’t have the strength to fight all of them off as they flipped me over and retied the restraints. Apparently, they weren’t taking any chances this time. I felt something wet slide down my crack and then a finger pushed inside. I screamed into the pillow and the belt came down on my shoulder blades. Ten more strikes crossed my back until I felt like I could neither scream nor cry anymore without suffocating.

  My consciousness flickered. I thought I was going to pass out again—sweet oblivion, to pull me away from the assault, but I only half left. I could still hear the men around me. Now they took turns with various implements smacking them across my ass. I felt some kind of stick, then a whip that left multiple bites with each stroke.

  Someone lifted my hips, and I waited for another dick to stretch me open. Instead, something fluttered against my clit.

  No, even worse. I bucked, trying to get free, but a finger slid into my ass again. Every time I jerked away from the vibrations, the finger went deeper.

  The room twisted again, and I was the in backseat of a vehicle.

  Fuck, I passed out long enough for them to get me out of the building.

  But there hadn’t been an escape, my body was still in the room.

  I was crammed into the small backseat of an extended cab pickup. A hand pressed over my mouth. “She’s awake.”

  “Give her the sedative,” a blond man handed something over the back of the pickup seat.

  Alan. The mole in the security team is Alan.

  I bucked and kicked at the door, but a pinching pain pierced through my arm, and I lost control of my limbs. I rocked in the seat as the truck accelerated quickly. The drug numbed my body, but for some reason I was still conscious.

  I looked up at the man holding me, “What-do-you-want?” It all came out sounding as one long word. “Where’s Charlene?”

  “Shut up bitch.”

  A hand struck my face and I jerked awake. Gabe grunted; he was kneeling over me with his hand still between my legs. “It’s not nice to zone out when I’m working for your pleasure, Princess.”

  The vibrator still hummed against my clit, and as Gabe slid another finger into my vagina, I realized I was wet. My damn body was giving in and turning against me.

  I screamed against the tape again, and his hand came down on my ass. The motion caused my hips to rock harder against the vibrator, and I felt the tingling ball of tension growing inside of me.

  No, no, please don’t let it happen. I tried to force the sensations away, like I had done with Ross in the Outlook, but they pounded into my nerves too quickly. I had lost control of my mind and body.

  Tears soaked the pillow. Despite my best efforts to keep my hips still, they bucked with Gabe’s movements. More hands joined the frenzy, rubbing against the fresh welts on my back. The welts weren’t as painful as whatever Kirk had used, but the touches sent my nerves into overdrive—somehow amplifying everything Gabe was doing.

  I screamed again into the tape then buried my head in the pillows. My body rocked then jerked. The possessive orgasm wrung through my muscles, and all I could do was sob.

  I took deep breaths, trying to find air, but then I felt something large pressing between my ass cheeks.

  I moaned and twisted, even though I knew it was impossible to buck him off. Everything convulsed as he forced his erection inside my tight hole.

  “Kirk hasn’t trained his slave very well,” Gabe jeered, pulling my head up by my hair. “Guess we’ll have to fix that.”

  He slammed my head back down then rammed his cock into me. Lying down over my back, I felt his lips at my ear. “My man wasn’t the only mole, there’s a far worse one, and you’ve been sleeping in his bed,” he whispered the message for me alone and my insides turned to rock. “Do as we say, or your protector will be dead within the hour.”

  I thought that everything inside of me had died
when I gave myself over to Kirk, but I was wrong. I felt it withering and rotting as Gabe pumped into me. Thrust after excruciating thrust.

  He shoved in deep, leaning over my back to untie my wrists.

  “You sure you want—” One man began, but Gabe growled and the blond shut up.

  Gabe pulled me up to my hands and knees, allowing him better access, while another climbed onto the bed in front of me. He twisted my head up to look at him. “You scream or bite and I’ll take out your teeth.”

  I heard a crash from the room behind us, before he could even peel away the tape.

  “Go on,” Gabe yelled—I assumed he was talking to the other men. I heard a scuffle, muffled words, and more banging and shouting. Then, Gabe was ripped off of me.

  I collapsed on the bed, feeling one hand touch the back of my leg while another cut my legs free. I kept my head down, but the hands gently tilted my head up and pulled off the tape.

  “Kirk,” I mouthed my larynx too sore to make a sound. He wrapped his shirt around me and lifted me into his arms. On the other side of the room, Miles held Gabe against the wall.

  “We’ll get them upstairs and let Ross figure out what to do with them,” Miles said.

  “She’s a slave,” Gabe said, trying to shake Miles’ hand off his shoulder. “And she has a sweet ass. Guess you just couldn’t give her everything she needed.”

  My eyes fell on the black form on the bed next to me. I grabbed it—the metal still warm from Kirk’s hand—and raised it, pointing the gun to Gabe’s head and pulling the trigger before I realized what I was doing.

  “Silver,” I heard two voices yell as Gabe’s body collapsed to the floor.

  Kirk grabbed the gun out of my hand.

  I heard a commotion outside, but the room started going dusky and I dropped my head to Kirk’s shoulder.

  I bobbed there semi-conscious as Kirk and Miles exchanged frantic words. Then, Miles patted my cheek, each time becoming rougher until I shook my head and focused on him.

  “Kirk fired the gun. Do you understand?”

  I stared back and started to space out again, but Miles shook my chin.

  I stared into his brown eyes, undecided if I wanted to stay with him and Kirk or let unconsciousness wash over me. “Alan,” I said.

  Miles frowned at me, and Kirk squeezed me tighter against his chest. I tried again. “Alan—” My throat was too dry and abused to make much noise without cutting out from the slices of pain. “—drove the truck that brought me here. He’s the mole.”

  Miles squeezed my forearm. “How do you know?”

  “I remembered. Only a bit.” I tried to swallow, but it was almost impossible.

  “She’s drugged,” Miles said, “She could have been hallucinating.”

  “Three men. Alan driving. Extended cab pickup,” I gritted out. I wasn’t sure how I was still even conscious, let alone talking. “Blue dash lights.”

  Above me, the men stared at each other. I tried to force out the rest of the information. To tell them about the scrawny black-haired man, too, but the room started to sway and spin.

  “I’ll kill him,” Miles whispered. Then he touched my chin, rubbing his finger gently over my skin. “Silver, I need you to listen to me now. Kirk fired the gun. Say it.”

  I took a deep breath and whispered, “Kirk fired the gun.”

  Fire Inside

  I woke up again as Kirk opened the door to the infirmary. Everything hurt and I felt like everything between my legs was on fire. I cried out as the cold table irritated my beaten back.

  “Make it stop, Kirk. Please.”

  He rubbed his hand over my least injured cheek and lowered his lips to my ear. “Stop calling me that before someone hears you.” As he straightened, he kissed my temple.

  I jumped when Clarence pulled over a tray of instruments. I hadn’t even noticed he was already in the room, and I wondered if he’d heard my slip up. As he snapped on a pair of purple gloves, I tried to crawl off the table toward Kirk.

  “Be still, Silver,” Clarence said.

  I wished people would stop telling me to do impossible things. I remembered what he was like. The subtle enjoyment he got out of pressing and poking me to the edge of my pain limits. I wasn’t sure I could handle him touching me at all. Kirk rested his palm against my chest, while the other gently brushed at my bangs, trying to keep me lying down and calm.

  “Everything hurts,” I sobbed. I couldn’t hold back, even though crying simply made everything worse. I throbbed in places I didn’t know it was possible to hurt in. The skin on my back felt prickly and raw. Not as much pain as the whip Kirk had used, but uncomfortable in other ways.

  “I’ll take care of the pain first,” Clarence whispered, rubbing my arm with an alcohol pad and then injecting a pale yellow liquid. As the warmth spread under my skin, my body went limp, and my already heavy eye lids almost refused to move. By the time Clarence had prepared the rest of his instruments, the pain had faded to a fuzzy feeling.

  “I’m just checking your injuries,” Clarence explained. This time, his touch was delicate and slow. “You shouldn’t feel anything too painful, but if you do, let me know.”

  I nodded my head, unable to do much else. He started with the swollen patch on my face, feeling carefully around it and then laying a cold pack wrapped in towels over it. Kirk took a stool near my head and held the cold pack against my cheek, resting his other hand on my shoulder. My head bobbed to the side, I was face to face with the tribal snake that decorated Kirk’s forearm.

  I felt Clarence’s hands working down my body, applying some kind of salve to the red marks across my breasts, stomach, and thighs.

  I blinked and the snake tattoo moved as if it was uncurling from his arm. My eyes closed and I gasped, forcing them open again.

  “Pain,” Clarence asked.

  I shook my head. Kirk leaned over me, his grey-blue eyes seemed almost glittery then his pupils turned to long slits.

  “Then what is it?” he asked.

  Reaching a hand up, I rubbed his cheek, then dropped my hand down to the tattoo, which had stopped moving again. “I’m either dreaming or hallucinating.”

  Kirk’s head jerked up. “How much morphine did you give her?”

  “Enough,” Clarence replied. “And stop scowling. It was less than half a dose. I was afraid of it reacting to anything they gave her.”

  It was enough, the room danced around us and shimmery figures moved across the ceiling. Much better than pain, something gripped inside my chest, waiting for the images to turn dark and scary. I squeezed Kirk’s arm, and he bent forward to kiss my forehead. “I got you,” he whispered, and I gave into the warmth.

  I lost track of time, floating on the bed, with Clarence slowly working over me. Then, he pressed my legs apart and I snapped out of my calm retreat.

  “Easy,” Kirk said softly, brushing the back of his fingers against my uninjured cheek. “He needs to check your injuries. Just concentrate on me, okay?”

  I nodded, but convincing my body to relax again while Clarence worked between my legs wasn’t so simple. He moved with care, positioning me so he could do a vaginal exam. Every poke hit a tender spot, but the drugs made it tolerable—physically if not mentally. My mind screamed, trying to crawl away from the violation. I wanted clothes, a blanket, a place to hide. Siding with my brain, my skin broke out in goosebumps.

  “I’ll grab her a blanket,” Kirk said, “she’s freezing.”

  I caught his wrist as he rose, terrified of him leaving me. Under my grasp, the serpent tattoo moved again.

  “I’m just walking to that cabinet,” he said, kissing my forehead. “I won’t be out of sight.”

  I kept my eyes on him as he walked the five feet to the cabinet, but as soon as his back was turned shadows grew from the corners of the room, slipping out of the cabinets, under the doors. I whimpered, pulling my arms around myself and Clarence stopped his work. “Silver.”

  Kirk draped it over me and cupped the
side of my face. I struggled to inhale as the darkness strangled my lungs.

  “It’s not real, Silver,” Kirk whispered. “Breathe.”

  My body started to calm again and he returned to the stool next to my head.

  “There doesn’t appear to be any vaginal bleeding,” Clarence said. I sighed in relief, but given the amount of pain, I couldn’t believe it was really possible.

  “There is a lot of bruising, and some chafing.”

  I wrapped my fingers around Kirk’s, and he squeezed my hand. The worst of the hallucinations were already starting to diminish. “Your tattoos stopped moving,” I mumbled, my throat felt like a gravel pit.

  “Were you having any hallucinations before Kirk brought you up here?”

  “I wish. Snapped out of it once.”

  I felt something pressing against my anus again and groaned.

  “Shhh,” Kirk cooed, caressing my cheek and wiping away the tears.

  “No rectal tears. She’s going to be sore for a while, though. I’ll give you some Vicodin to hold her over. You should probably keep a close eye on her for the next few days.”

  Clarence stood and lifted my legs from the stirrups pulling the foot of the bed back out and laying my legs gently across it. “I need to have a look at her back now.” He touched my arm. “Can you roll on your side? Toward the door.”

  They both helped me roll over just as the door to the infirmary opened. As the cool draft drifted in, followed by the smell of Ross’ cologne, I was thankful for the blanket.

  “Can I talk to you, Kirk?”

  “Please,” I begged. I didn’t want him to leave. I feared what Ross would do to him. To us.

  “I won’t leave the room,” he whispered.

  I shook my head. “The shadows will get me.”

  “Are you still seeing things?” Kirk asked.

  Ross approached and grabbed his arm pulling him toward the door, but Kirk held his ground. A black hooded cloak rose up, enveloping Ross. Death had come to claim my Master.