Total pages in book: 53
Estimated words: 49669 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 248(@200wpm)___ 199(@250wpm)___ 166(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 49669 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 248(@200wpm)___ 199(@250wpm)___ 166(@300wpm)
The tears I’d been desperately trying to fight off began to fall. I heard the men exchange crude remarks, and then I was dragged farther down the darkened hallway. I was only released long enough to be shoved through an open doorway. I desperately tried to get back to the quiet place in my head where my white knight had just gallantly saved me and was declaring his love for me, but the escape eluded me as easily as any hope for a physical one.
I didn’t have enough mental capacity to take in much about the room other than the single mattress in the center that didn’t have so much as even a sheet on it.
“Get on the bed, princess.”
I knew he wanted me to protest or fight him in some way, but I also knew what would happen if I did. And the reality was that I couldn’t let him push me against the wall.
So sweet, little one. Do you want to be my special boy…?
I moved stiffly to the bed.
“Get on your stomach.”
I hated myself for doing what he said. I couldn’t even make my mouth spit out the one little word that was screaming on a loop in my head.
No!
I tried to hold my breath as I lay down across the bed, but the stench of stale sweat and sex assailed my nose anyway. I only had seconds to think about it because a moment later, a heavy weight sank down on me, pinning me to the mattress from head to toe. The man smelled like cigar smoke and whiskey. I nearly gagged when his breath washed over me as he nuzzled the side of my face.
“Now show me all the fight you’ve got inside, princess.”
I closed my eyes, no longer able to control the tears. They fell silently down my cheeks. The asshole had to have felt them. The tears and the violent shaking of my entire body became completely uncontrollable when I realized I might not be able to escape to my safe space in my head at all.
“Please,” I whispered.
The guy ground his dick against my ass. “Begging works too,” he said snidely, and then his hand was between our bodies and he was lowering his zipper. “Turn over, princess. Let’s put that pretty little mouth of yours to use.”
I shook my head slowly but didn’t try to stop him from turning me over. If I just kept my eyes closed, it wouldn’t be real. None of it would be real.
That was my last thought before I heard a crashing sound in the room next to the one we were in. My eyes flew open just in time to see the guy over me looking worriedly at the wall that separated our rooms.
An instant later, the door to our room was kicked in. I tried to process what was happening, but all I could make sense of was that the heavy weight was gone as were the cruel fingers. I curled myself into a ball and squeezed my eyes closed even tighter in the hopes of finally reaching the quiet place.
Miraculously, I managed it because within a minute or so, I no longer heard the sound of flesh striking flesh or grunts of pain.
It was quiet.
So blessedly quiet.
Unfortunately, it didn’t last.
“Christopher?”
I didn’t recognize the voice. It wasn’t the same guy from before, but that didn’t mean anything in this hellhole. I shook my head but not in response to his probing of my name.
“Please, don’t.” I buried my face in the disgusting bed and sought out the pages of one of my favorite books.
“Christopher, my name is Rush. I work with King.”
“King?”
It was the only word in his statement that made sense in my addled brain.
“Yeah, King. He’s in the next room with Gio, and when you’re ready, I’ll take you over there.”
King was here? He was with Gio?
Reality returned like a punch to the gut. I jerked upright, striking a solid form in the process. Strong fingers closed around my upper arms, but unlike the ones before, they were gentle. Gone was the stench of alcohol and cigars, and in its place was the muted crispness of one of my favorite aftershaves.
My hands were stuck between my body and what proved to be a very broad chest.
“Are you hurt?” the man—Rush… he’d said his name was Rush—asked as his hands swept up and down my forearms. Some of the chill began to leach from my system as Rush’s body heat began to envelop me.
I shook my head and willed myself not to cry like I wanted.
“Gio,” I croaked. “I need to see if…”
“He’s okay, Christopher. We got to you in time,” Rush said with unfound certainty. Then, strangely enough, he pulled me forward into his arms, dropped his head on top of mine, and whispered, “We got to you in time.”