Page 34 of Deadfall

“Goddamn it, man, fucking ruin the mood. Go get that taken care of.” He waved his hand at the man’s eye. “I’ll take her to the Menagerie—”

Thoroughly subdued and humbled, I went without a fight. Trying to escape had been stupid anyway, where was I going to go?

The Menagerie turned out to be a massive greenhouse attached to the back of the estate. We entered through a side door and the domed glass stretched high over our heads. I bit back a sigh as the warm air enveloped my frozen body and soft, mossy grass was a nice contrast to the harsh, rocky sand of the beach. The guard pulled me down a path that wound through the thick foliage and tall trees. Within yards we were completely enveloped. I could even hear the occasional call of birds somewhere off in the shadows.

But, it wasn’t all idyllic. As we walked, I saw enclosures and cages. Some appeared empty, although it was hard to tell with the way it all blended together with the greenery. Others were occupied by naked women who quickly faded into the shadows as we passed. My disgust was apparently obvious because the guard chuckled.

“Mahoney has quite the collection,” he said. “I’m told he curates them from all over the world.”

I held my tongue, but only because I couldn’t find the energy to formulate a snide remark.

A guardhouse came into view where it bordered the far side of the dome. Laughter drifted from inside, but we continued along the path that ran in front of it to a nearby enclosure. The guard opened the barred door and shoved me inside. I hardly heard the sound of the gate click shut behind him because directly in front of me was a tray of food. I fell to my knees and without a second thought shoveled the apples and bland oatmeal into my mouth. I knew it was probably drugged, but I was too hungry to care.

Sure enough, I’d barely finished eating when my body became heavy with whatever sedative they’d laced the food with. I managed to crawl over to a large rock outcropping and curl up with my back to the warm surface before unconsciousness claimed me.

Darkness surrounded me, but something was wrong. I wasn’t alone anymore. I was on my stomach and a weight settled over my back. I tried to struggle, but whatever was in the food had rendered me nearly immobile. A hand grabbed my wrists while the other settled over my mouth. A broad chest pressed me down into the grass. I tried to kick out, but the movement was slow and lethargic.

“I told you we should have gotten here earlier,” a voice said. “The drug is wearing off.”

Hands gripped my calves and pulled my legs apart.

“Stop complaining, you like a bit of a struggle anyway.”

There was a rustle of fabric as the man knelt between my legs. His fingers trailed up my inner thigh and dragged across my pussy. No matter how many times I’d been raped—and unfortunately, it had been many times, the sensation of helplessness never ceased to anger me. My breathing picked up as a finger penetrated me

“God, she’s fucking tight,” the voice muttered.

“You always say that.”

“So? Can’t a man admire a good pussy?”

“Just fuck her already, you’re wasting time.”

The sound of his belt and zipper falling away accompanied the leisurely exploration of his fingers. He pushed my leg up toward my side, baring me further to him and pinched my clit. The pressure didn’t let up until I let out a squeak of pain as it cut through the drug. The pressure over my mouth increased. I mentally strained in an effort to move something, anything to try and get away, but the drug had effectively cut off all motor skills.

The man withdrew his finger and ran both hands up my thighs. He pulled me apart as his thumbs ran over my pussy and ass. Spit dropped and the head of his cock smeared through it before he pushed inside and forcefully shoved himself to the hilt.

I wanted to kill him.

He groaned and uttered a breathless curse as he pulled almost all the way out and did it again. His fingers dug into my ass and kept me spread for him as his grunts increased with his pace. I could feel my body grow wetter even though I was far from enjoying myself. But, I was thankful for it because it meant there wouldn’t be any pain. It was simply something I had to endure, and while the rage when it was over never abated, the numbness that came before allowed my resignation of reality.

Just like all the times before, they would take what wasn’t theirs, only now, I no longer had any tears left to give them. The one holding my wrists let his hand slide from my mouth to brush my hair off my face.

“Such a pretty little thing—even with all those scars—”

I cringed as he trailed off and continued to stroke my head. I wanted to gag, but I couldn’t move, I certainly couldn’t speak. The drug hadn’t worn off for me to do anything other than make weak protests that weren’t worth it. His petting continued and I wanted to scream—it reminded me too much of another time—

The first time.

Men loved to revel in their control, but it blinded them to what was being built in the breakdown, and once that kind of rage was awoken, it didn't go back to sleep.

20

EMERSYN

Eight Years Ago - Age 18

I let the book drop to my lap. I couldn’t focus. I’d reread the last line five times at this point.