"I'm Alex." He stated simply in the same chilling tone. He didn’t use his last name but he didn’t need to. She had heard enough about him from Kyle to know exactly who he was. The situation suddenly seemed much, much worse.
He had intruded into her personal space to the point that they were face-to-face. His malevolent smile and warm breath fanning across her face sent a cold wave to the pit of her stomach, causing it to churn. Reaching out his vile hand, he slowly began stroking her face. She closed her eyes, thoroughly repulsed at his sudden tender nature, and fought down the bile that threatened to rise.
"Look at me when I'm talking to you!" He shouted, grasping her face tightly.
He had lost his gentle demeanor and returned to the sadistic man she knew he was in a split second. Her eyes flew open. She looked at him fearfully at the sudden change in personality. The fact that he was severely unstable was shining through with every passing second.
His hand roughly made its way down from her face. Before she knew it, he was tightly grasping her breasts with both hands and grinding his hips into hers with such force that he was crushing her into the wall. She sharply inhaled from the mixture of shock and pain, earning another smile of satisfaction from her captor.
At that point, much to her surprise, he eased back. She got the impression that he enjoyed seeing fear in others and had been toying with her. Until he ordered her to remove her clothes, that is. She hesitated and fought against the tears that were filling her eyes, not wanting to give him the pleasure of feeding off her distress.
"You heard me. Take off the shirt."
She reluctantly complied, knowing she had no choice. She didn't want to anger him, fearing what he might do to her if she did. Holding her crumpled shirt in front of her, she waited for what would come next.
"Now the shorts."
This brought out more hesitation from her. Impatiently, he reached forward and hastily unbuttoned them himself. Unable to fight the tears any longer, one slowly streamed down her cheek, quickly joined by another. He yanked the shorts down her legs as she stood motionless in disgust.
As she stood in front of him in nothing but her underwear, terrified of what could happen next, a million horrific possibilities ran through her mind. Instead of doing the expected after giving her a slow once-over, Alex laughed and turned away from her, walking to the door without another word. After banging once it unlocked and swung open for him, allowing him to leave. After the click of the lock, Jessica heard two sets of footsteps faintly walking away from the room. Then there was nothing but silence.
Chapter Thirty-One
It was the creak of the rusting metal door, to what couldn't be described as anything other than a cage, that made Kyle come to. He had been locked in said cage for God only knew how many hours after they took his shoes, shirt and belt; no one had returned since. He grimaced at the throbbing in his head, and again when he shifted and felt the sharp pain shooting in his ribs. He was pretty sure at least one of them was broken.
Most people would have been grateful for being left alone for a while after what he had endured, but not Kyle. He was anxious to figure out where Jessica was. He was also ready to get on with whatever they planned to do to him next. Fairly certain they didn't plan on killing him or Jessica in the immediate future, he knew they had a chance at escaping if he could just get out of this damn caged room and find her.
He looked toward the noise, trying to shake off the feeling of being a cross between a stray dog some asshole decided to kick for fun as they passed it on the street and a caged monkey. A raspy exhale filled the air as Jessica stumbled into the room. Kyle leapt to his feet faster than he thought possible in his condition but the door clanked shut before he could reach it. He steadied her as she swayed sideways. Jumping at his touch and hissing in a trepid breath, her eyes darted up to meet his in the darkened room.
"It's okay, Jessie. It’s just me." He soothed, releasing her instantly. After giving her a quick inspection, he seethed with unadulterated rage.
"I'm going to fucking kill him." He vowed furiously.
She flinched at the tone of his voice and shrunk away from him slightly. He took a deep breath and spent a minute burying his feelings of intense rage for her sake. Anger wouldn't benefit either of them at the moment. She needed him to stay cool, calm and collected. He needed to keep his mind straight and the boiling fury building inside was not conducive with that.
But where the fuck was the rest of her clothes?
He looked back up to her red rimmed, puffy eyes and knew she had been doing even more crying since he had seen her last. She shirked away from his fiery gaze, seeing just how angry he was despite his attempt to conceal it. Sensing that she was dazed and had no clue what to do next, he gently led her by the hand to the edge of the tiny room. He leaned against the wall and slid down to sit against it in the same spot he had been since he was shoved inside.
When she stood frozen with a blank expression, making no move to sit, he grabbed her hand again giving it a gentle tug. She slowly sat down with a fairly wide gap between the two of them and released a shaky breath. Looking over at her, he noticed the fresh handprint-shaped bruises on her arms and breasts and his calm resolve became ever harder to maintain.
Her eyes shifted to his, sensing she was being watched by him. This, she realized, was a mistake. The darkness she saw in his eyes on her behalf, the blood and bruises that came from him trying to defend her, sent more tears spilling down her cheeks. She was surprised her eyes could even produce any more tears after all she had cried.
Through the blur of her tears she saw him lean her way; felt his arm circle around her shoulders. His touch involuntarily caused tension to well up inside her, bringing her back to being groped and pawed by strange men. After Alex Rodriguez had left the room, the rest of the men came in one by one. She shivered at the thoughts that were replaying in her mind and tried to block them out.
"I'm not going to hurt you."
She knew that. Still, she couldn't help but feel uneasy by physical contact from any man. Kyle's sturdy arm remained draped over her shoulder, his hand gently stroking her tangled hair away from her face. She gradually unwound at the familiarity of his touch, her body melting into his while the tears quietly continued to flow.
Although she could feel the muscles in his arm tense rhythmically each time he reached to smooth her hair, Kyle sat in companionable silence. For that she was grateful, his soothing motion never faltering. When her tears dried up and the sobs ceased he broke the long stretch of silence.
"Did they hurt you?”
"I’m okay."
Jessica couldn't help but want to laugh at that statement. She was most likely losing her mind for wanting to laugh at a time like this but she couldn't help but see the irony in her words. She was far from okay. But in the aspect he was hinting at she had come out unscathed.
So far at least.
“Did they touch you?”
“Define touch.” She teased darkly.
“You know what I mean.” He snapped, not in the mood for the attempt at humor.
“They didn’t hurt me in the way you mean.”
She sat up straight, causing him to retract his arm. They sat closely, their arms and legs pressed into each other. The bruises that covered her were starting to ache. Her mind, which had been teetering on the edge of insanity, drifted back to the last thing she overheard through the door before being taken from the room. She shook off the rising dread and terror that thought brought with it, knowing it wouldn’t do anything but upset Kyle even more. She decided that tidbit was best kept unsaid for now.
"What about you?"
The nurse in her was increasingly worried about him as she took a closer look at the dried blood on the side of his head and the fresh looking gash oozing on his bare chest. She could see it was a fairly shallow cut but it could get infected nonetheless in their damp, filthy dungeon. She was positive he had a concussion from all the whacks to the head. To top it a
ll off, a deep bruise was growing on his side, so dark it blended into the ink of his tattoo in some spots.
"I'm fine. Don't worry about me." He assured her as he noticed her scrutiny of his condition.
He paused. "Do you want to talk about it?" He offered, clearly referring to what had happened since their separation.
"Obviously not or I would have brought it up myself." Sounding far ruder than she intended, she shifted uncomfortably away from him. He didn't seem offended in the slightest at her snippy tone and stayed firmly in place.
"I really think I should take a look at your head. You probably have a concussion."
"Not much we can do about it if I do." He commented.
He was right of course, but she needed something to keep her busy. His voice was smooth and steady. Strong. A stark contrast to her own voice which was still slightly shaky, matching her nervous motions and displaying her fear of what was to come next.
She ignored his comment and pushed his matted hair back from his forehead. She gently felt the side of his head above the trickled blood and found a knot above split skin; the source of the bleeding no doubt. She was happy to find that his skull hadn’t cracked open anywhere.
"You could use a couple stitches. But you’ll be okay without them for now. You still shouldn’t sleep for a while just in case." She instructed, unable to do say or do anything else about it, proving his point that medical attention was currently useless. Upon her diagnosis his eyes found hers with an intensity that made her chest tighten with emotion.
"I don't think I'll be getting sleep anytime soon." He replied huskily, a tiny hint of a smirk on his face. Even in this terrible predicament, she was amusing him.
"Your chest?" She fixated her eyes on the long, shallow cut despite her previous realization that there was nothing she could do. She didn't even have a band-aid to give him for God’s sake.
Humoring her, he shifted to give her a better look. Acutely aware of his powerful gaze, she brushed her fingers along his smooth skin as close to the cut as possible without actually touching it. She was satisfied to see the bleeding had stopped and the cut wasn’t deep enough to require stitches. Next, she slowly ran a gentle hand down his side directly over the deep bruise he received from a series of kicks to the ribs after she had been taken away.
He flinched when her fingers came to the last of his ribs, anticipating the shooting pain. She suspected he may have cracked the last two but it was hard to tell without an x-ray. Again, a useless and questionable medical diagnosis. Nothing she could do about cracked ribs, concussions or infected cuts with no antibiotics or gauze.
She tried to focus on the words written down his side but couldn’t quite make them out behind the dark bruises. Sighing, she moved back to his uninjured side and snuggled deeply against him. Surprised by her sudden affection, he firmly wrapped his arm around her shoulders and angled her body towards his. This time he rubbed her back as he held her in his arms.
An ache nagged deep in his chest. It came every time she touched him and hurt worse than any bruised and battered part of his body. He was overwhelmed with the primal need to look after her. To get her out of this place and back home where she would be safe. He couldn't live with himself if he failed her, there was no question.
Leaning into him, Jessica could feel that he had a lot weighing on his mind. Stress, pressure to find a way out of this situation. Despite the urgency she felt to get out, she couldn't help but enjoy his strong embrace and unwavering presence. It was something she had missed daily since they parted ways and she had no idea how much time together they had left.
His touch felt so much different than the ones she felt only a short time before. He was gentle and genuinely tender. There was no forcefulness in the contact. Although he had taken charge when she first arrived in this room, he hadn’t been threatening whatsoever. He cared about her. She was positive of that, even though she hadn’t acknowledged it before they were trapped here in Hell.
She also came to embrace the fact that she still loved him. She had never really stopped. For the past six years she simply suppressed the feelings as deep as she could, afraid they would eventually erupt like a volcano. When she saw him again she had managed to keep them at bay, certain she would never be able to push them back inside and walk away from him when the time came if she permitted them to return.
“What lyrics are your tattoos?” She asked softly, curiosity getting the best of her.
“This side,” He motioned to the one farthest from her, “is a Hinder song.”
“And the other side?”
“Read it.” He said after a short pause, shifting back to give her a better view.
Her stomach clenched when she looked down and read the cursive words, her eyes settling on the tiny bee off to the side. It was their song. Stunned that he was influenced enough by her and their silly car rides to permanently mark his skin with a reminder, she looked up and met his eyes. They were intently fixed on her, trying to read her reaction.
“I got a lot of shit from the guys for getting that one.” He laughed, thinking back to how much they had ribbed him in the tattoo shop and all the way back to the base in the cab.
He had gotten the tattoo anyways, letting them say what they wanted. They elbowed one another and snickered for weeks after, but he ignored it and they eventually stopped. He just laughed and shook his head when he saw them. It was all in good humor, he knew. By the time he got the lyrics on the other side six months later, the amusement over the first tattoo seemed to have worn off around the barracks.
Moved the touching gesture, Jessica snuggled back against him even closer than before. Her heart swelled. She hoped her expression didn’t give away just how deeply those lyrics, of all things he could’ve tattooed on himself, had affected her. Time passed and her thoughts drifted away from the songs they used to sing and back to their dire situation. The weight of it pressed down heavily on her.
Before ending up there, she had envisioned their goodbye at the airport as she got on her plane and he stayed behind with dread, each going back to where they belonged. Too much time had passed for them to go back to what they once were. Knowing that hadn’t made it hurt any less. She now found herself hoping for that moment at the airport. It sure as hell beat the alternative that was becoming more and more likely.
Yes, goodbye was inevitable for two people as different as them. He had always wanted to spread his wings and fly away from home; she was content with settling down roots. But now their goodbye could very well consist of one or both of them getting killed down in this dungeon. That wasn’t the goodbye she wanted for them.
The thought sent an involuntary shiver through her body. Kyle glanced down at her but didn’t ask any questions. Fighting to push those thoughts aside for the hundredth time, she closed her eyes and drifted to sleep faster than she thought possible.
Chapter Thirty-Two
Jessica woke up with a jump. Startled, she looked around and saw that she was leaning against Kyle behind the thick rusty bars, just like before. Caged in liked an animal. She took a deep, calming breath and shifted.
"Bad dream?" He sounded as if he had been wide awake. Knowing him, he probably had been.
"More like a bad week." She answered dryly. He smiled at her sympathetically but it didn’t reach his eyes.
"I was dreaming about...what happened." She explained after a drawn out silence. "About what almost happened."
As much as the "almost" part had him confused, he nodded in understanding. He forced himself not to prod, letting her tell what she wanted on her own when she was ready.
"I feel so...disgusting." She quietly admitted.
"You are not disgusting." He insisted without missing a beat.
"You don’t know what they did." She argued, unconvinced. "What they almost did." Pause. "What they’re going to do."
“I thought you said they didn’t...” He trailed off with a tone of implication.
“They didn’t.”
"They just got so close…I mean I know the second person you have sex with isn't really all that special but I just thought...I thought it would be more special than this.” She stumbled over her words awkwardly and trailed off before she lost composure as her voice cracked.
They hadn't done anything to her...as of yet. That knowledge filled Kyle with relief and renewed his urgency to get them both out of there as soon as possible before things were taken a step further. It was only a matter of time and he didn't want to test their luck. Staying was equivalent to playing Russian roulette. Despite this, that wasn't the only part of her statement that caught his attention.
"Second?" He blurted.
"Yeah, second." She confirmed in a tone that indicated her displeasure in admitting this to him. "Probably third, fourth and fifth too." She added dryly under her breath.
He heard her comment but was unable to reply. The shock of her admission shut down the part of his brain that formed words. That meant she hadn't been with anyone else since him on their graduation weekend. He felt a strange mixture of guilt and joy and wasn't sure what to make of it.
“Not everyone has meaningless sex.” She threw in accusingly at his obvious disbelief.
"Anyways. I overheard them talking..." She filled the silence before there was a chance for him to respond, or worse, for awkwardness to plague the atmosphere. She paused until he looked at her, making certain she had his attention before she continued. He forced himself to keep eye contact, hoping she didn't see how much her words impacted him.
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