by Kate Dunbar
Lucas closes the distance between us and grabs my arm, pulling me to him. My back is to his chest as he squeezes me tightly to him and whispers in my ear, “Is this how it’s always going to be, Sabra?” He leans to the side and picks my phone up.
I try to push away from him. “Trevor should be here any minute.”
“Yes, I’m sure he’ll be here soon.” He pockets my phone and steps backward toward the line of trees behind us, dragging me with him. “Unfortunately, for him, we won’t be.”
“What?” I kick my feet out and dig my shoes into the ground, ignoring the pain shooting up my left leg. “What in the hell are you doing, Lucas? Let me go!”
He slaps his left hand over my mouth. It muffles my words. Then he shakes me so hard my teeth rattle. “You always were too soft-hearted for your own good, Sabra. I guess I should say thank you for making this easier on me.”
Tears streak down my face and beneath his fingers. I taste the saltiness slipping into my mouth as I desperately work to shake him off and yell for help. He drags me farther and farther into the forest. The lights of the lodge become smaller and smaller.
“No!” I cry out when his hand releases for a moment. “Don’t do this.”
“Shhhh ….” He shakes me again before lifting me and moving faster. “I’ve got you, Songbird.”
“Lucas,” I moan and push my head back on his shoulder. He squeezes me tighter to him before roughly turning me around, gripping my hair in his fist, and yanking my head to the side.
“Help! Help me!” I scream at the top of my lungs when his hand leaves my face. “Please help me! Some—”
Lucas’s fist connects with my cheek. It whips my head back and knocks the breath out of me. He reaches into his back pocket and pulls out a roll of duct tape as he throws me to the ground.
I shift and start to move away from him, but he grabs my left ankle and wrenches me back to him. I scream out in pain as darkness crowds the edges of my vision and stars dance across my eyes. One of my nails scrapes through the dirt, tearing through the pine needles and roots.
“See what you made me do, Sabra?” He straddles my body.
I raise my right leg to kick him in the crotch, but he drops himself on top of me and pins my arms with his knees.
“You never could play nice, could you?” He spits on the ground beside my head. Lucas rips a strip of tape off the roll. He bends and runs his nose along my jaw before placing the tape over my mouth and kissing me on the corner. “Don’t worry.” He flips me over and drops his weight back on top of me.
I struggle against him, moaning and writhing, as he grips my arms and hands behind my back. Sticks and rocks scrape my cheek while he wraps the tape around my wrists and chuckles.
He leans over and the front of his body presses against me. His erection digs into my lower back. “I’ll teach you how to play correctly,” he whispers.
My head shakes harder, viciously. I whip my head backward and nail him in the chin.
“You bitch!” He leaps up, stands over me, and kicks me in the side. “You’ll pay for that.”
He grabs my wrists and tugs me into the air, throwing me on my back. I stare at him in horror when he lands down hard on me again. This time fury shoots through his eyes and spittle gathers in the corners of his mouth. He squeezes my cheeks together before shoving his other hand into my hair and pulling with all his might. My head flies forward before he shoves it back onto the ground.
Pain shoots through my body. Blissful darkness takes over me.
The last thing I see is him smiling at me.
“Rise and shine, sleepyhead.”
Something cool and damp skims across my brow and soothes the sting and jags of pain shooting through my face. I open my eyes and blink several times to get them to focus on what’s in front of me. Lucas’s face looms before me with a sick smile. A bruise blooms across his cheek and nose. Metal bites into my skin and I cry out, trying to throw my hands out in front of me before realizing I can’t move my arms or legs.
“What have you done?”
“Don’t worry, Say.” Lucas wets a washcloth in a glass bowl and wrings it out before wiping my cheek again. His hand trails down my neck and collarbone. “I’ll have you cleaned up in no time.” He sweeps the washcloth across my chest as he stands over me. His eyes roam over my body. I’m lying on something hard. “Can’t have you soiling your pretty, white dress, can we?”
“Lucas, don’t do this.” I frantically look around the room. “Please don’t do this.”
He leans down and looks up, aiming his finger above me. “Don’t you like your new dress?”
My eyes track what he’s pointing at. Terror seizes my body, and I can’t breathe. A mirror attached to the ceiling reflects an image of me chained to a table. I’m wearing a long flowing white dress with a sweetheart neckline. The slit on the side of the skirt goes to my hip. My bare leg peeks out of the dress showing off a swollen ankle. Dark bruises dot my skin up and down my shins and thigh. My hair has been brushed and pulled into a braid. Yellow roses circle my head.
I open my mouth to scream, eyes wide and petrified, when Lucas slaps a hand over my mouth. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” His face gets closer to mine, and he squeezes my cheeks while he turns my head to look in the direction he wants. “Don’t make me do something we’ll both regret, Sabra.” He reaches over and picks up a long carving knife. The light shines on it before he drops it back on the small table beside us. “I think you’ve caused enough damage tonight, don’t you?”
Lucas grabs a roll of duct tape from next to the knife, rips off a strip with his teeth, and mashes it over my mouth. He pushes off the table and steps away. His hand drifts down my side as he walks to where my feet lie chained together. He slides the fabric of the skirt over revealing more of my bottom half and smiles at me with a gleam in his eye.
I track every move he makes, trying to keep my body from shaking. The room spins and goes in and out of focus. A hand pushing on my injured ankle snaps me back into the reality of my nightmare.
“No, no, Songbird. Can’t have you going back to sleep and missing all the fun.” He pats my ankle again. “Listen to me carefully so I don’t have to do any more bad things to you, okay?”
He waits for me to peer in his eyes before continuing. “There’s no screaming allowed. The neighbors might be a little upset if we wake them. We need to be extremely quiet while we get reacquainted.” He pauses and lifts his hand to rub the back of his neck, looking into the corner of the room briefly. Lucas picks up the washcloth again to wipe off the dirt from my leg. He makes slow circles down the outside and back up the inside until he reaches my inner thigh.
“We both know you can stay quiet when you have to, so I don’t think that will be a problem, do you?”
I can’t stop watching him. My eyes dart from the mirror above us to where he stands at my feet.
“Sabra,” he barks. “Answer me.”
I shake my head. Then I find a light on the wall over his shoulder and stare at it until black spots dot my vision, and I’m forced to look away. My gaze goes back to the mirror above me, and I find Lucas watching me carefully. One hand skims back and forth along the bottom of the table.
“Maybe,” he draws out the word. His tongue darts out and licks his bottom lip. “We should do a test. See if you can still stay as quiet as a little mouse. Isn’t that what we use to call it? You remember don’t you, Sabra?” The palm of his hand rubs against the bottom of my foot and up and over the top before he stops with it back on my ankle.
“Now don’t make a sound,” he whispers. Then he presses his body weight down. A scream rips out of me from the white, hot pain shooting up my leg. He lets go of my foot and shuffles back to my head, picking up the knife again.
“Oh, no,” he tsks. Lucas slides the blunt edge of the blade across my cheek. The metal reflects my face back at me. I watch a tear fall into my hairline. “That won’t do at all, Songbird,” he croons into my ear, pulli
ng the knife down my chest and resting it between my breasts. “You’re going to have to do better than that.”
He lightly scratches my skin with the blade and a sting licks across my chest. Warmth trickles down my legs before dripping sounds out in the room.
“What did you do?” He glances at the table and floor. “Your dress!”
Lucas paces across the room and back again, running his fingers through his hair. He grips it tightly before turning around and coming back to me to assess the fabric of the dress, now wet and yellow in spots. Moisture spreads to the hem and the smell of urine permeates through the room.
He marches over to a closet and opens the door wide for me to see in. White dresses fill the dark space. Long. Short. Lace. Cotton. An entire rod full of stark white dresses waiting to be worn.
“No worries.” He calmly shifts the dresses aside to look at each one. “We’ll clean you up and put a new dress on you.”
His voice is steady and soft when he pulls out a lace one. It’s completely see-through. “This one?” He looks at me in the mirror and grins wickedly. “No, we’ll save that one for a little later, I think.” Lucas places the disgusting dress back on the rod and pulls out a simple cotton maxi with a low V-neck. “This one is perfect. You’ll look beautiful.” He turns to me and walks back to the table. “Don’t you think it’s perfect, Songbird?”
He stops walking with the dress in his hands when we hear fists pounding on a door.
“Sabra! Are you in there? Open up!”
Trevor.
Trevor’s voice rings out, yelling as he searches for me. Close, but not close enough.
“Mmmmpppphhhh!” I yell through the duct tape over my mouth. Chains rattle together as I throw my body around. The wood table shifts as I try to move as much as possible. Something cold and round crushes against my temple. I go still when a small click sounds in my ear. Looking in the mirror, I see Lucas standing next to the table with a gun pressing into me.
“I’m really sorry you’re making me do this, Sabra,” he sighs.
Cold steel smashes into the side of my head, and the room goes black.
FIFTEEN and EIGHTEEN
Music seeps through the walls and bodies are coming in and out of every door of the house when Lizzie drops me off at eleven. We went to the championship basketball game and out to eat with some of our friends afterward. From the looks of it, the rest of the high school came to my house.
My mom and dad are out of town for a few days, and they left Lucas in charge. He’s not here much now that he’s in his first year of college, except to do laundry or get money. Although, from the way Dad was screaming at him before they left town, it doesn’t sound like he’s been spending a whole lot of time in his classes either. He came home this weekend specifically to “take care of me” and go to the basketball game with his buddies.
Laughter and shouts ring out across the driveway. It sounds like this party was high on his list too. I haven’t had to see him much because I’ve been at Lizzie’s most of the time, but I knew I needed to come home tonight. Lizzie’s mom was asking me when my parents would be home and giving me funny looks. A definite sign I was wearing out my welcome.
With nowhere else to go, I decided to pull on my big girl panties and face whatever greeted me when I walked through the door. And even though I wasn’t expecting this, maybe this is a good thing. It means Lucas is preoccupied with someone else and drunk.
I slip through the front door and slide past bodies pressed against walls or huddled in groups.
Lucas stands in the doorway of the kitchen watching the party in full swing. Two kegs sit next to the Kitchen Island and bottles of every liquor imaginable line the back counter. Plastic red cups dot the furniture and litter the floor. If my parents knew what was happening right now, Lucas would be a goner.
I spot two kids from school leaning over the coffee table and lines of white powder when a familiar voice calls my name from across the room.
“Sabra.” I turn my head away from the madness and find Lucas walking toward me. “Did you have fun at the game?”
“Yeah. What’s going on, Lucas?” My hands sweep out in front of me. “Do Mom and Dad know this is happening? What about the neighbors?”
“I told them I was going to have a few friends over.” He looks around the room again and sneers. “They’ll all be gone in a few hours. Most of them still have curfews.”
“Mmmkay.” I nod at him as he turns his attention back to me. “I’m going to go hide in my bedroom and read.”
A smile spreads across his face, and the hairs stand up on the back of my neck. “You do that. I’m sure it will be quieter there.” He chuckles with a quick glance up the stairs and tosses a wave at me. “Have fun.” He walks away, leaving me standing there wondering if I’m missing something.
I shrug it off and take the steps two at a time—squeezing around a couple making out in the stairwell—and jog down the hallway to my room. The door is cracked open, and a groan falls from my lips. Two horny teenagers better not be getting it on in my bed.
The door swings back and bangs into the wall when I slam my hand on it and march into my bedroom looking around. So help me, if anything is missing, Lucas will pay for it.
“Sabra.” A tall, lanky guy from school with dull, brown hair and zits around his hairline stands from my window seat and smiles. “I thought you were never going to get here.” His words slur together slightly, and he puts a hand out to steady himself against the wall.
“What are you talking about? And what are you doing in my bedroom, Eric?” I toss my purse on my desk and turn to look at him shifting back and forth on his feet. His pupils are so big, you can barely see a ring of green around them.
Awesome. He’s high as a kite.
“Lucas said I should wait for you here. That you’d be home soon.” He brushes past me to push my door closed. I walk up behind him and watch him struggle with the lock, muttering, “Got it.”
“What are you doing?”
He turns and stares at me with his back against the door.
“Eric?” My voice sounds higher as panic bubbles up, and my stomach turns. I don’t want to be in this room alone with him, especially with the way he’s looking at me. He pauses briefly on my boobs and leers. My arms quickly cross over my chest.
“Come on, Sabra,” he cajoles and takes a step toward me with his hand out, swaying side to side when he moves. “Lucas said you might be nervous but not to let that fool me.”
“Not to let what fool you?” I walk to the other side of the bed trying to put some distance between us.
“You know,” he draws out the words before dropping his eyes to my chest again and licking his lips. “He told me it’s just a show. That you do this all the time. He said you’re ‘broken in’.” He laughs and does air quotes with his fingers, but his left hand doesn’t make it all the way up in the air.
I frantically look for an escape route out of my room the whole time he’s talking, but he’s standing between me and the door. And while he’s wiry and doesn’t have anything on the football players at school, he’s still bigger than I am.
I watch him continue to move toward the end of the bed and toward me like a predator stalking his prey. If I can get him to round the corner and take a few more steps… I jump onto the middle of my queen size bed when he’s an arm’s length away from me and use it like a trampoline to try to catapult to the other side and bolt for the door.
“Oh no, you don’t,” Eric yells. His hand grips my thigh, and he yanks me back toward him.
My jean skirt slides up, revealing a sliver of my underwear. My body lies face down on the quilt my grandmother made for me. I work to turn my body over so I can get my fists around to fight him off.
He throws his body weight on top of mine and pins me to the mattress while I buck my hips to knock him off me and to the ground. “This doesn’t have to be a fight, Sabra,” he slurs in my ear before grabbing and pinning my hands above my head
with one of his own and laying his head next to mine. His legs straddle my quaking body, and I feel him pressing into my back.
Nausea rolls through me. I twist and turn my body under his, kick my legs out, and try to nail him in the back, continuing to fight.
I don’t know how to get out of this. I’m stuck. And he did this to me.
“What do you want, Eric? Let me go!” I scream into the room hoping someone will hear me. Anyone. But the music’s too loud. It drowns out anything happening in here right now.
“Only what Lucas promised me for the drugs.” He slides his free hand under me, grabs my breast, and squeezes. Pain slices through me.
“Ow!” A tear slips down my cheek. “What he promised you? What are you talking about?”
Lucas is sick, but there’s no way he’d do this. Boys have never been able to get close to me when he’s around. He couldn’t have known this would happen.
“As payment.” Eric grabs my body and flips me over and sneers at me.
I kick, yell, and scream. My hands briefly come loose as he starts unbuttoning my blouse with his other hand. I knock my fist into his right cheek, but he isn’t fazed.
He grabs my hands in his own again and glares at me before he starts laughing. His body rocks on top of mine. “He promised me you.” He laughs. “His own sister. Said you were used.” He sways back and forth when he leans toward me with his hot breath puffing in my face.
I feel his grip loosen on my hands a second time, but his hold tightens again when I try to pull away.
“Like I said, he said you were used and not to worry about it,” he slurs with his lips inches away from my own. “That you did whatever he wanted.” He sways again and leans closer to say something else, but his body slumps on top of mine and pins me farther into the mattress.
“Help!” I scream at the top of my lungs. “Someone help me!” I push with all my might. Eric’s body rolls off me and to the side. I scramble across the room, lean my shaking body against the wall, and inch toward the door as I try to catch my breath. Waiting for him to come after me, I’m careful not to turn my back on him.