“Look at me bitch.” He chuckles.
I don’t raise my head. I can’t. If he looks me in the eyes, he’ll be able to tell that I’m breaking down. My soul is shattering into a million pieces; my heart no longer feels any love for this world that I’m living and breathing in. How can it? This is a devil’s act. I’m living in hell.
“Fine, be a cunt while I take your cunt. Stupid bitches, they never learn!”
I try closing my legs. I use every muscle I have to keep them clamped shut, but again my strength is no match. I could probably fight him off longer if I weren’t so weak and weren’t bound, but I can’t. I’m exhausted, and every inch of me is aching.
His hand wraps around my throat as he enters me slowly. Oh god. Not slow, please not slow. Just do it fast and get it over with, please. He grips tighter, yanking my face up so he can watch. I don’t wanna close my eyes, I wanna know what’s coming and I don’t want him to look at me and see it. I evoke every ounce of hate I’ve ever felt and store it in my gaze as his black eyes twinkle with satisfaction. His head swoops down, and his teeth bite my breast hard. I don’t scream; I don’t do anything. Not even flinch. He’s entering me so fast with each thrust and no rhythm; it’s straight mutilation to my soft tissue causing it to burn and itch. PP screams at me to make a sound and I refuse to. When his fist flies towards my face while his other hand is still tight around my neck, it’s a straight shot to my right eye. My head pounds as my vision blurs to blackness. Oh god.
“Wake up bitch,” someone growls, slapping my sore face.
I crack open my eye that’s not swollen and regret waking up. I feel like the bottom half of me has been ripped to shreds. I’m still hanging from the ceiling, my feet barely touching the floor, and I can feel blood dripping down my body.
Who the hell is this?
“Boss wants me to slice you open,” he mocks, playing with a knife.
Oh, crap!
He runs the blade across my chest back and forth until the tip digs into my flesh at the bottom of my shoulder blade. I bite my bottom lip, crying out as the blade makes its way down my chest in a zigzag motion. He’s carving me. My cries are throaty and just when he’s about to start another one, gun shots ring out.
“What the f**k?”
The stranger leaves me to bleed openly and freely as he flees the room. The sounds are almost too much. I can almost hear the bullets flying around in the distance. The sounds stop, and the door flings back open.
“Angel.”
That voice is music to my ears and my eyes snap to his. It’s a murderous the look I see on his face right now, and if I didn’t know any better, I would be frightened of him too.
I’m squatting in this f**king bush watching and waiting for the moment where we rush in there and take back my Angel. I’m itchy and f**king sweating my ass off from this heat, and my legs are bouncing up and down as if I’m hyped up on some seriously good speed. Our connections lead us to this damn shack in the middle of f**king nowhere. I swear she had better be in there, or I might just lose my shit. My body tenses up as we spot Snake walk out and climb into a silver van. I look over at Sniper and ZZ and nod. Sniper sends a text to Pyro and Smokey letting them know we’re about to move. As the taillights from the van disappear, we creep out and surround the house. ZZ mouths two that he can see through the curtained window and Sniper mouths Christina. I want that bitch alive. Pyro moves to the floor and in one swift movement, he kicks the door open. Two shots ring out before they can even pull on Pyro. We move in as Christina starts screaming. ZZ holds the gun to her head shutting her up as the rest of us move through the abandoned house. We hear a door slam open and pounding footsteps coming up a stairwell. We don’t know which door, so we silently pull back and wait to see which one of them opens. The shooter cracks the door open taking blind shots. I knock over a chair and fake groan. It works, the bastard flings open the door, and I pull my trigger putting a bullet straight in his heart. I watch as his body slumps then falls forward. I rush down the stairs flinging open the door and what I see rips through me like a tidal wave.
“Angel,” I say.
Her eyes snap to mine. My blood runs cold when I see there is no life in her eyes. She’s empty, and she looks just as murderous as I feel. She’s naked, hanging from the ceiling, blood dripping from her face, her chest and between her legs. They’ve f**king carved her like a Thanksgiving turkey. My mind plays out millions of ways I want to kill Snake, but when Angel starts rambling on and on, I listen to her cracked voice and put my revenge on hold.
“You know they used a condom. They raped me, and they used a condom. How funny is that shit? And what is up with this? They think I needed a matching scar or something. I guess even Angels can’t be perfect, huh? I mean I never had one scar on my body. Pretty incredible to go twenty-two years without a scar, but here I am. Bleeding from every pore on my body. Oh yeah and PP raped me too. I don’t know for how long because I was passed out, but yeah he did. Oh and PP and Christina are brother and sister. Yep, that’s right; they’re Snake’s spawns.” She takes a deep breath, and I can tell she’s done.
I take my knife and cut the ropes, catching her as she falls. I’m still trying to process this scene and the info she just rambled off no doubt from shock, but now I just wanna get her back to the clubhouse so Doc can take care of her. I also want to beat the shit outta something and cry my f**king eyes out like a little f**king kid because my Angel was violated and it’s all my fault. Yeah, I’m a grown man that wants to cry. That doesn’t make me a pu**y; that makes me f**king human. My woman was just beaten to within an inch of her life. Raped enough for me to see the damage just by one look and carved up like a damn pumpkin. Yeah, I’m pretty sure I deserve a free pass, and I’m pretty sure my Angel deserves a medal because she’s not even crying.
I don’t raise my head. I can’t. If he looks me in the eyes, he’ll be able to tell that I’m breaking down. My soul is shattering into a million pieces; my heart no longer feels any love for this world that I’m living and breathing in. How can it? This is a devil’s act. I’m living in hell.
“Fine, be a cunt while I take your cunt. Stupid bitches, they never learn!”
I try closing my legs. I use every muscle I have to keep them clamped shut, but again my strength is no match. I could probably fight him off longer if I weren’t so weak and weren’t bound, but I can’t. I’m exhausted, and every inch of me is aching.
His hand wraps around my throat as he enters me slowly. Oh god. Not slow, please not slow. Just do it fast and get it over with, please. He grips tighter, yanking my face up so he can watch. I don’t wanna close my eyes, I wanna know what’s coming and I don’t want him to look at me and see it. I evoke every ounce of hate I’ve ever felt and store it in my gaze as his black eyes twinkle with satisfaction. His head swoops down, and his teeth bite my breast hard. I don’t scream; I don’t do anything. Not even flinch. He’s entering me so fast with each thrust and no rhythm; it’s straight mutilation to my soft tissue causing it to burn and itch. PP screams at me to make a sound and I refuse to. When his fist flies towards my face while his other hand is still tight around my neck, it’s a straight shot to my right eye. My head pounds as my vision blurs to blackness. Oh god.
“Wake up bitch,” someone growls, slapping my sore face.
I crack open my eye that’s not swollen and regret waking up. I feel like the bottom half of me has been ripped to shreds. I’m still hanging from the ceiling, my feet barely touching the floor, and I can feel blood dripping down my body.
Who the hell is this?
“Boss wants me to slice you open,” he mocks, playing with a knife.
Oh, crap!
He runs the blade across my chest back and forth until the tip digs into my flesh at the bottom of my shoulder blade. I bite my bottom lip, crying out as the blade makes its way down my chest in a zigzag motion. He’s carving me. My cries are throaty and just when he’s about to start another one, gun shots ring out.
“What the f**k?”
The stranger leaves me to bleed openly and freely as he flees the room. The sounds are almost too much. I can almost hear the bullets flying around in the distance. The sounds stop, and the door flings back open.
“Angel.”
That voice is music to my ears and my eyes snap to his. It’s a murderous the look I see on his face right now, and if I didn’t know any better, I would be frightened of him too.
I’m squatting in this f**king bush watching and waiting for the moment where we rush in there and take back my Angel. I’m itchy and f**king sweating my ass off from this heat, and my legs are bouncing up and down as if I’m hyped up on some seriously good speed. Our connections lead us to this damn shack in the middle of f**king nowhere. I swear she had better be in there, or I might just lose my shit. My body tenses up as we spot Snake walk out and climb into a silver van. I look over at Sniper and ZZ and nod. Sniper sends a text to Pyro and Smokey letting them know we’re about to move. As the taillights from the van disappear, we creep out and surround the house. ZZ mouths two that he can see through the curtained window and Sniper mouths Christina. I want that bitch alive. Pyro moves to the floor and in one swift movement, he kicks the door open. Two shots ring out before they can even pull on Pyro. We move in as Christina starts screaming. ZZ holds the gun to her head shutting her up as the rest of us move through the abandoned house. We hear a door slam open and pounding footsteps coming up a stairwell. We don’t know which door, so we silently pull back and wait to see which one of them opens. The shooter cracks the door open taking blind shots. I knock over a chair and fake groan. It works, the bastard flings open the door, and I pull my trigger putting a bullet straight in his heart. I watch as his body slumps then falls forward. I rush down the stairs flinging open the door and what I see rips through me like a tidal wave.
“Angel,” I say.
Her eyes snap to mine. My blood runs cold when I see there is no life in her eyes. She’s empty, and she looks just as murderous as I feel. She’s naked, hanging from the ceiling, blood dripping from her face, her chest and between her legs. They’ve f**king carved her like a Thanksgiving turkey. My mind plays out millions of ways I want to kill Snake, but when Angel starts rambling on and on, I listen to her cracked voice and put my revenge on hold.
“You know they used a condom. They raped me, and they used a condom. How funny is that shit? And what is up with this? They think I needed a matching scar or something. I guess even Angels can’t be perfect, huh? I mean I never had one scar on my body. Pretty incredible to go twenty-two years without a scar, but here I am. Bleeding from every pore on my body. Oh yeah and PP raped me too. I don’t know for how long because I was passed out, but yeah he did. Oh and PP and Christina are brother and sister. Yep, that’s right; they’re Snake’s spawns.” She takes a deep breath, and I can tell she’s done.
I take my knife and cut the ropes, catching her as she falls. I’m still trying to process this scene and the info she just rambled off no doubt from shock, but now I just wanna get her back to the clubhouse so Doc can take care of her. I also want to beat the shit outta something and cry my f**king eyes out like a little f**king kid because my Angel was violated and it’s all my fault. Yeah, I’m a grown man that wants to cry. That doesn’t make me a pu**y; that makes me f**king human. My woman was just beaten to within an inch of her life. Raped enough for me to see the damage just by one look and carved up like a damn pumpkin. Yeah, I’m pretty sure I deserve a free pass, and I’m pretty sure my Angel deserves a medal because she’s not even crying.
