Warrant

by S. L. Schiefer

  “I love how red your ass gets when I show it some love. I take it no one has ever done this to you, have they?” I don’t answer. “I’m going to show your body so much today. Don’t fret, lovely. I’ll make it good … for myself.” He laughs menacingly.

  I break out in a cold sweat. And then the real pain starts. He traces his fingers down the crack of my ass, teasing the entrance of my pussy only a little before ramming his whole hand in me. I howl in pain, the sound coming out of my mouth unrecognizable. He continues pushing his hand in and out of me hard. I keep my eyes screwed shut, my head buried in the pillows as I sob silently.

  He pulls out and runs that hand up my crack and forcibly shoves a couple fingers into my asshole. I start thrashing around on the bed, as much as my ties will allow. My sobs are coming violently and loud now. No one has ever been in that hole, and I intended on keeping it that way. My ass is jiggling with every thrust of his hand, and with each thrust, my sobs get louder. He starts smacking me all over the back of my thighs, my ass, and my lower back with his other hand. They’re not little love smacks either. These are knock-a-bitch-out smacks. These fucking hurt like hell.

  “C’mon, lovely. Tell me how much you like it. The louder you are, the harder I fucking get for you. I’m trying to decide what hole I want to take first. Hmm … should I shove it in your ass first? No, maybe your face? Yeah, I like that idea.” He stands, his hand falling out of my ass. Fucking sweet baby Jesus! That hurts!

  “Now, be a good girl and don’t bite. If you bite I will make it hurt much worse than what I already have planned.” My eyes are still shut, so I feel his dick meet the front of my face, attempting to nudge past my lips. I turn my head not wanting to grant him entrance. He grabs my hair in response to my refusal to suck his dick. “Open your fucking mouth, bitch!”

  When I open my mouth, he shoves his hard dick in. You know how some guys have that musky guy smell, that smells good? This john’s dick smells like straight-up ass. He thrusts forward holding my face to his pelvis, blocking any air. He holds me there until I start struggling around him. He pulls out, barely letting me get in a good breath before repeating the process for. I’m so tired when he lets go of my hair that I slump down on the bed.

  I’m breathing so heavily I feel like I’m going to have a panic attack. I feel the bed shift when he climbs on. He grabs my hips and pulls them up. Lining himself up at my ass, he begins to push in, and I’m too tired to move even if I want to. But then he pulls out, and backs off the bed.

  I risk a glance to the side to see what the fuck he’s going to do now.

  “So sorry, lovely. I almost forgot something.” He walks over to the door and opens it, allowing two other men to come in. And what do they do? Both of them start undressing. Somehow I find a sudden burst of energy. I start thrashing around on the bed and screaming as loud as I can. The guy who started everything stalks over to me and smacks me across the side of the head. Knocking me loopy. My whole body goes limp on the bed, and I cry. I cry for everything that I’ve lost doing this, and everything I will never get back.

  The guy standing off to the side comes over to the bed, motioning for the other guy to come hold my body up in an awkward position. He slides underneath me on the bed, and once he’s comfortable, I’m dropped back down. In the next second, he has his dick in my pussy. The first guy gets back up on the bed and forces his cock back into my ass. And the third guy? You guessed it, he puts his dick in my mouth, forcing my jaw open.

  Each of them fucks me for the longest time. At some point, I stop feeling. My tears dry up. There comes a point where you retreat into yourself, trying to hold onto that last strand of sanity. Each of them come with growls that I barely register. I don’t protest when they each walk away from me and just leave me lying on the bed.

  The one who started first walks over to the bed. “I’ll give your pimp the money I owe you. Thanks for the fuck, lovely. We won’t be meeting again.” With that, he pulls his arm back and lets it fly. I don’t even blink. It’s like slow motion as I watch his fist come toward my face. The minute he makes contact, I hear crunching, and then I hear nothing.

  Chapter 7

  “You knocked her out?” I chuckle. “That seems to have went better than I could have ever imagined.”

  “Yes, sir. She’ll remember everything we did. I’m sure we’ll be told not to use his business again,” the little rat tells me.

  “Perfect. I’ll be in touch with your money.” Without waiting for an answer, I end the call.

  Devon learned the definition of “used and abused” today. I want this girl broken by the time everything is said and done.

  Chapter 8

  Devon

  I’ve been hiding in my room for the past couple days. My friends aren’t buying the whole “I have the flu” excuse I’ve been telling them anymore. If I had somewhere else to hide out, I would be there.

  After those assholes left, the Boss came right in, or at least I think he did. I’m not sure since I was knocked out. He cleaned me up the best he could and then had someone deliver me to my house. He knew what was going to happen. He tried to warn me in his own way. But it wasn’t enough. Nothing could have prepared me for what I went through.

  It’s not like I can do anything about it either. So here I sit, trying to figure out why the hell I allowed this to happen to myself. I mean, I hear about this shit happening to others, but isn’t that why there is a pimp? The guy in charge of everyone is supposed to take care of his people. But what the fuck does mine do? Sits back and allows it to happen and then pretends like he cares.

  I need to get out of this house. I need some pain medicine. I’ve taken all that we have here, sneaking out to gather it all up when no one was here to catch me. I’ve avoided looking at myself in any mirrors by averting my head each time I walk by one. My face is still swollen—I can feel it. Why would I look at it?

  Besides telling everyone that I’m sick, I haven’t talked to anyone. I want to avoid any questions, hence the hiding in my room. But everyone is at class or out doing whatever right now, so that’s why I’m going to the store. More avoidance. I should win an award in avoiding people.

  **

  I’m sure I look like a homeless person. Hair piled under a baseball cap, huge sunglasses on my face, and baggy clothes covering my body. Against my better judgment, I decide to walk to the CVS on Lane and High. It’s only a twenty-minute walk, not worth wasting my gas.

  It’s such a beautiful day outside. It’s funny that it’s so beautiful outside with as fucking ugly as I feel on the inside. I’ve never been a depressed person, or a terribly pessimistic person, but if the last couple of days don’t get me there, I don’t know what will. Every person I pass is either laughing or smiling. I wish I had a reason to smile.

  My phone starts ringing in my purse pulling me away from my people watching. The funny picture on the screen tells me it’s Peyton calling me. I have an internal debate on whether to just let it ring or to answer and just get the interrogation over with. Letting a sigh escape my lips¸ I slide the little bar to answer that call.

  “You’re not pregnant, are you?” Peyton blurts out. So much for easing into this conversation. But then again, subtly has never been a word in Peyton’s vocabulary.

  “No, Pey. I’m a hundred percent positive I’m not pregnant.” This girl is amazing. Out of everything that could be wrong with me, and she thinks I’m pregnant. Also, I was forced to get an IUD when I turned eighteen and I’m given monthly pregnancy tests just to be sure. So I’m good.

  “You know if you are, we won’t abandon you. We know you don’t have any family that would step in and help.” Well, thanks friend. For that little reminder that my life sucks.

  I would take being pregnant over my current situation any day. “I’m not, I promise. I’m just not feeling well. I thought some fresh air would do me some good, and I need more Tylenol so I decided to walk to CVS.”

  “Are you sure you should be walking t
hat far after having the flu?” she asks, concern lacing her voice. This girl will make a great mom one day.

  “Pey, I’m okay. I’m not far from the store, and it’s really not that long of a walk back. I’ll be fine,” I reassure her. She starts to babble on about her day, and what homework I’m missing in our classes. Her word vomiting keeps me entertained for about five minutes, I can’t get a word in edgewise with her rambling so I go back to people watching. Trying to pretend I’m one of the happy people.

  Out of the corner of my eye, a figure catches my eye. I turn my head to see who it is, but no one is there. Fuck this shit, now I’m getting paranoid. No one has time for this shit. The store is getting closer, so I interrupt my friend to get off the phone. I hate walking into a store while on the phone. It’s rude and insensitive. No one needs to know my business and I don’t care to know anyone else’s.

  I don’t take my sunglasses off when I get inside, again, no one’s business. I’m a girl on a mission. All I need is Tylenol then I’m out of here. Picking up a couple bottles of the extra strength rapid release capsules, I head to the front of the store. I don’t want to linger anywhere and give anyone the opportunity to talk to me.

  After paying for my purchase and avoiding the eyes of the cashier, I go back outside. Standing right outside the door is the current bane of my existence. Definitely not someone I want to see right now. I shake my head at him and turn to head back to my house. I pull my phone out and type out a text to him.

  Me: Listen. I get you tried to warn me. But you can’t just show up at school and try to talk to me.

  Boss: I need you to come with me. We need to talk. It’s important.

  Me: After everything that fucking happened do you honestly think I’m ready to be around you yet? It’s Tuesday. I still have four days until I have to meet with anyone. Just fucking leave me alone until then. Please.

  And radio silence after that. Thank you, Jesus. I cannot deal with his bullshit today, not when it’s his fault I was raped on Saturday. I have to figure out how to put my plan in motion sooner than what I wanted. I don’t watch a lot of TV but maybe I should start watching some CSI or NCIS or even Law & Order. Maybe even read a crime book. Gah. Who has time to read an entire crime book?

  I take a detour back to my house. Instead of taking the shortest route, I walk down High street. The university is directly across the street. The buildings are still there from when they first established the university. The old mixed with the new. Always evolving, creating diversity within the walls, and accepting diversity in the student body. The campus itself is filled with trees and shrubbery, everything seemingly serene even with the constant chaos surrounding it.

  Just like my life. But now, my outside isn’t seeming serene anymore.

  Chapter 9

  Enzo

  I feel like a stalker. I’m a detective and I’m stalking someone who isn’t needed by the police. I’m losing my goddamned mind. I’ve talked to this girl twice and she’s firmly inserted herself into my mind. I’m dreaming about her. I don’t dream about girls. What. The. Fuck. Is. Wrong. With. Me!

  I’ve never been so captivated by a woman before in my life. She is so beautiful, but doesn’t seem to know she is. Her smile was like a shot right to my chest. But her light faded when I asked her out on a date. I want to know why she thinks I wouldn’t want to date her. On the outside, she seems perfect. Her personality isn’t too bad from what I’ve seen.

  Women. They need to come with an instruction manual. I will never understand them.

  I’ve found myself, while on duty, driving around close to campus trying to catch a glimpse. And now I’m considering doing something I’ve never done. Oh, who am I kidding? I’m going to run her name through our database to get some information on her. I’m sitting in my chair in front of my desk, staring at the computer.

  My office is very plain. My mama would have a heart attack if she saw my lack of decorating. I don’t need any distractions while I’m here and working on shit. Plus, I don’t need all the guys at work knowing about my personal life.

  I lean forward in my chair and pull up the program. I debate for all of two seconds, before typing in her first and last name. And in under ten seconds I have all of her information. I have a phone number and an address. I grab a pen and paper, write it all down, and shut down my computer. My shift was over a few minutes ago so I’m free to go. And it looks like I’m going on a mission. First stop, flowers. My mama did teach me something about being a gentleman.

  **

  I park my truck in front of her house. There are lights on, and I notice the house is bigger than what one person would live in. Maybe if her roommates are here I can get their help convincing this girl to go out with me. I get out of the truck and walk up the sidewalk to the front door. God, I don’t miss being in college and the campus housing at all.

  After knocking on the door, I take a couple steps back to wait until someone answers. I hear footsteps coming toward the door, and when the door opens, a beautiful blonde is standing there. Her eyes are big and innocent looking. Her body is a lot like Devon’s, very athletic and definitely in shape.

  “Well, hello. How can I help you?” the blonde asks me.

  “Is Devon home?” I smile. I don’t want to come across as creepy.

  “She is. She’s been in her room since Saturday night. Only came out today to go to the store to get pain meds.” Jesus this girl needs to slow down with her talking.

  “I’m Enzo, I don’t know if she’s told you about me at all,” I say. This is me being sneaky, trying to see if she’s mentioned me.

  “No, she hasn’t. How do you two know each other?” she asks. “I’m Peyton, by the way.” She sticks her hand out to shake mine, then invites me in.

  “I ran into her when she was over on campus. She was arguing with some girl. I saw it happening, so I walked over to make sure everything is okay. I then saw her after the game on Saturday, and I asked her out but she told me I didn’t want to date her. Then walked away.”

  “Okay, so how did you find out where we live?”

  “I’m a detective, and looked her up in the computer.” I shrug, not ashamed I had to take drastic measures to track her down.

  “Her room is the first door on the right at the top of the stairs.” She stands and walks to the kitchen. So, I stand and make my way up the stairs. I take in my surroundings the whole time I’m walking. It’s not huge, but it’s decorated … interestingly. I get to the top of the stairs, and stand in front of her door. Nerves settle in my stomach. I knock and after a few seconds, I hear a faint “come in.”

  I open the door, and see she’s lying down in bed. Covers up to her neck. When she realizes who is coming in her door, her eyes get really wide.

  “W-w-what are you doing here?” she stutters. She’s cute.

  “Well, since you refuse to go out with me I now have resorted to being a stalker to find you.”

  “I don’t know why you’re here. I told you I can’t date you,” she snaps. Oh, this kitten has claws.

  “I don’t give up easily.” I put the flowers down on her desk, and walk over to her bed. As I get closer, she scoots as far away from the edge she can get. I sit down on the edge and look her over. I see the huge bruise on the side of her face. After years of learning to keep a straight face, I’m able to keep my features schooled. I don’t want her to know I saw it.

  “Do you have a boyfriend, Devon?” My voice comes out harder than I intended.

  “No, not that it’s any of your fucking business!” With her attitude we would be fucking explosive in bed. I just know it.

  “So, no boyfriend? What did you do Saturday night?” If this happened Saturday night, then it would make sense as to why she’s hiding out.

  “Again, none of your fucking business.”

  I tsk at her, “When someone puts their hands on a female it becomes my goddamned business!”

  Her eyes get wide with fear, she brings her hand up and p
laces it over her cheek and looks away.

  “Yes, I saw it, muñeca.” Leaning closer, I whisper, “What happened?”

  In the smallest voice I’ve ever heard she says, “I can’t tell you.”

  “I can help. I’m a cop. I won’t judge you, just tell me what happened.”

  “You don’t understand, no one will! I need you to leave now!” Her voice is growing in volume.

  Shaking my head, I look around her room and see her cell phone. I grab it, and put my phone number in her phone and send myself a text to make sure I have the right number. “When you’re ready to talk, text me. I’ll drop everything to come to you. I’ll help you, Devon. You don’t have to fear me.” I reach out and trace my finger down her cheek with the bruise. My heart is hurting for this beautiful girl. No one should have to deal with this.

  “Thanks, Enzo. But don’t be surprised when I don’t.” I drop my hand at the cold look on her face. Taking that as my cue to leave, I do, gently shutting the door behind me.

  Keeping my head down, I head downstairs, and I’m greeted by three women. Every single person in this house is different.

  “Hi, Enzo. I’m Roni.” Roni has bright red hair, and is a little curvier than the rest of the girls.

  And the other girl shoves her hands in her pockets before saying, “I’m Ashley.”

  Peyton is blonde, Roni is a redhead, Ashley has multicolored hair, and my Devon has a chocolate colored mass of curls.

  “Hi, guys. Nice to meet you all.”

  “Did you get her to talk, or to agree to go on a date?” Roni asks.

  “Nope. Have you guys noticed anything strange with her?”

  “She always just takes off and leaves without giving any of us an explanation,” Ashley tells me.

  “Huh. Keep an eye on her. I don’t know what’s going on, but something is up. I’m sure I’ll see you guys again. Have a great night.” I walk out the front door, open the door to my truck, and climb in. This is going to be hard, trying to figure out what’s going on without any information. I guess my trained stalker skills are going to come in real handy soon.