Page 5 of Catch My Fall

He gives me a sharp nod, sliding his phone across his desk towards me. We’ve received photos of Sierra before, pictures of her naked and bruised, barely even conscious. Some of her being burned by a lit cigarette, whipped by belts and other things that slice her perfect skin, but never a video.

My heart pounds as I pick it up, my finger shaking as I press play.

Before anything even comes onto the screen, the unmistakable sound of male grunts fill my ears, I don’t even need a visual to know what’s happening and it’s already making me nauseous. The camera then shifts and everything comes into focus. Sierra’s face down, her wrists tied to a thick metal pipe above her head as a man straddles her, forcing himself inside her from behind as her body lies motionless beneath him, the only indication she’s alive are the faint whimpers that escape her lips every time he pushes inside.

His fist is in her hair as he holds her down, his thrusts hard and punishing as he violates her in the worst way possible.

Bile crawls up my throat and I have to swallow it down to keep my composure.

The person filming brings the camera in closer to Sierra’s face. Her eyes are empty, void of any emotion at all as her tears stain the already dirty mattress she’s lying on that’s soiled in God knows what.

There’s a cut to her face that stretches from her brow to just below her cheekbone. It’s not fresh, and judging by the dried blood and how it’s began healing, it’s at least a week old.

The thrusts of the sick bastard on top of her get faster, and a second later, he roars as he comes.

“Shift over, it’s my turn with the bitch now,” a deeper male voice says, the camera shaking as it’s passed to a different person.

“Better take her cunt this time, I just destroyed her ass,” the other guy gloats.

A man laughs just before the video cuts off and I have to stop myself from hurling the phone across the room, remembering that it’s not mine.

I slam it down onto the desk and tug at my hair, the burn in my scalp strangely soothing.

I want to hit something, anything to suppress the rage coursing through my veins. I feel so useless, so powerless to stop this from happening to her and it only adds to the anger inside me. Anger at the sick bastards who are hurting her, but also I’m angry at myself.

I move for the door.

“Alec, where are you going?” Gage asks.

“I have no idea, but I can’t stand here doing nothing knowing she’s out there somewhere while they fucking ra—” I can’t bring myself to say the word as my stomach churns with nausea.

“You think Rafe and I don’t feel the same? She’s our little sister and she’s with those sick cunts because of us and the shit we got ourselves into.”

“Is the video traceable? Can we find the location of who sent it?” I ask.

“I’m on it, but it might take some time,” Derek replies, not bothering to look over his shoulder as he taps away on his laptop.

I take a deep breath to calm my racing heart. “We need to find her.”

Gage rounds his desk and comes to a stop beside me, placing a hand on my shoulder. “I know, man. We will. Don’t give up yet.”

“I’ll never give up. If I have to spend the next twenty years searching for her, I will.”

He nods slowly, giving me a tight-lipped smile. Sometimes I wonder if he knows just how much I care for his sister but chooses to ignore it, I can’t imagine him being blind enough not to see it, my face alone must give my feelings for her away.

As much as I’ve always wanted her, I never made a move because I didn’t want to put my job on the line, not to mention my friendship with Gage. Despite him being my employer, he’s more of a friend than anything else and he’s a man I carry a deep respect for, as I do for Rafe.

“You’re wearing yourself thin, man. You’re a mess. I know you’re worried, we all are, but you need to start taking care of yourself. That’s an order, okay?”

A small laugh slips free. “Okay.”

“And take a shower, you smell like shit.” He claps me on the back and I leave the room.

I do as he says. I head back to my house and take a much needed shower, letting the scolding hot spray seer into my skin in an attempt to rid the images of Sierra in pain from my mind.

It cascades like burning lava onto my back and I hiss from the sting, but it’s nothing like the pain Sierra’s going through right now.

I feel so fucking guilty. I should’ve gone after her that day when she fought with her brothers. She’d overheard a conversation about how Randall March, Gage’s wife’s father had their mother killed, thinking it was their dad driving and not her. Gage and Rafe had kept the truth from her for months, and despite me knowing myself, it wasn’t anybody’s place to tell her but her own brothers. I shouldn’t have listen when she told me to back off and leave her alone. She might be here now if I’d gone after her.

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