Page 40 of Savage

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” This time, the confidence I had earlier is sorely lacking from my words. I hate how much power this man has over me.

“Bane, let’s not toy with the girl.” My mother’s voice is foreign to me.

Hearing her speak sends both rage and sadness coursing through me. She’s nothing more to me than a stranger and a monster. But she’s not hiding under my bed, she’s sitting right in front of me. I finally shift my eyes to look at her, only to see a reflection of myself. I am the spitting image of her.

“But I love to see the fear dancing in her pretty eyes, Rae.” Bane’s voice is cold and emotionless. It’s as if the pleasure he seeks from my uncomfortable terror doesn’t even register.

“Rayne,” Harper calls as she’s brought into the room.

I watch as she’s taken to another seat, and her ankles are fastened to the wooden legs of the chair while her hands are secured behind her, so she has no way of escape.

“Harper.” My voice cracks on her name.

I can’t see any bruising, so hopefully, they haven’t hurt her, but I have no doubt she will be hurt if I don’t obey the man in front of me.

“What do you want from me?” This time, I address Bane, wanting this game to be over with sooner than later.

He can ruin my life if he wants, he can destroy the connection I have with Harper and Dante, but he’s not going to see me cower, not anymore.

“Sit,” my mother’s cold tone orders me, and this time, I obey.

The guards who brought Harper into the room tie me to the chair. Then one of them heads over to a television standing against the wall, and he flicks it on with a remote.

As the screen comes alive with a picture of a room, dread sinks my heart into my belly. I know those walls, I know that floor, and I know what scene is about to play out in front of us.

I’ve endured so many horrific things, and I’ve told Dante and Harper about most of them. But this is something I haven’t been able to share. After it happened, I pushed it to the back of my mind and forced myself to never think about it again.

Shame fills me when I remember how my captor at the time laughed. He taunted me for months after it happened. He was the worst of them. He never touched me, he didn’t force himself on me, he didn’t even like talking to me. I was just a toy he used for his own sick brand of entertainment.

“Now,” Bane announces loudly. “We’re going to watch a little home movie starring our beautiful girl Rayne. She was such a good girl for her master. He kept all these tapes, just so he could enjoy them again and again.”

“Don’t do this.” My plea comes out louder than I expect. The desperation in my voice is clear.

Bane glances at me, a sinister smirk on his face. “You know what we’re about to see, don’t you?”

I can’t bring myself to answer him. If I do, I’ll break down. There’s nothing more I want than to burn this tape and all the other movies that sick bastard made of me. This is the one, though, that fills me with the most shame.

“Bring in the toys. Let’s see how much these pretty girls enjoy the show.” My mother’s voice is crystal clear as she pushes to her full height and joins Bane, who’s now standing between Harper and me.

Once again, I’m a helpless captive. Nothing more than a plaything for my sick, twisted captors. And when Harper sees this video, she’ll never feel the same way about me again.

Two guards walk into the room carrying wands. They should be used for pleasure, but here in this godforsaken house, I know they’ll be used for torture.

My mother takes one, and Bane the other. He smiles at me before he turns his attention to Harper.

“It’s good to have you back, little toy.” His words cause her to flinch, and I can read the fear in her eyes.

We’ve both been dressed in short, white gowns that look like something a patient would wear in hospital. The material is so thin, it doesn’t offer much warmth, and with nothing underneath, there’s no way to hide our modesty from prying eyes.

Bane switches on the wand in his hand, and soon enough, he’s chuckling as he presses it to Harper’s nipples.

“Fuck you!” Harper shouts as she tugs on her restraints, but it’s no use.

We can’t free ourselves, so there’s no point in fighting the inevitable.

My mother turns her attention toward me. Her glare is like venom.

“It’s time you accepted who you really are, Rayne,” she says as she switches on the wand she’s holding and strokes it firmly against my breasts. “You’re nothing more than a trained toy, obedient and submissive.”

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