Page 41 of Slaughter

Another sob wracks my body, and I scream, needing to be heard. Needing to be touched. God, I would do anything for him right now if he would just fuck me. Just let me get off.

I need it!

My entire body is pulled tight, and the soft fitted sheet underneath me seems to burn my skin. My head swims in the liquor I consumed earlier. I don’t know what time it is, but it has to be close to morning. I think.

Arching my neck back, I scream into the gag and buck my hips. Fuck, I hate him so fucking much! I thought I was free of him. My past. My nightmares. I thought he was the last person I’d ever see, and here I am, dragged back into hell by Avery fucking Decker!

Fifteen years old

I sit up when I hear his door open to his room.

He enters, closing it softly behind him. I look over his black T-shirt and worn-out jeans to see if I can find any sign that he got undressed. That his father made him do something with the girls downstairs. He doesn’t look at me or say a word. Instead, he goes into his adjoining bathroom. I throw the covers off me and jump out of his bed, following him.

“Hey,” I say softly, entering and shutting the door behind me.

“Hey,” he responds flatly.

I swallow when I watch him remove his shirt and toss it onto the countertop. Then he starts unbuttoning his jeans. “What are you doing?” I ask.

“Taking a shower,”

My heart starts to beat faster. “Why?”

“Because I fucking want to,” he snaps.

I bite my bottom lip nervously, and he places his hands on the countertop. Hanging his head, he sighs. “I’m sorry.” He lifts his head, and his eyes meet mine in the mirror. “I …” He pauses, and my chest tightens. “I wanna be alone.”

My bottom lip starts to quiver at his words. “Did your father make you …?”

“Stop!” he growls. “Stop talking about it.”

“I want to know.”

“No. You don’t.” He pushes off the countertop and walks over to me. Cupping my cheek, he meets my gaze. “You’re better off not knowing any of it, Bunny.”

I lean into his touch. “We can help them.”

He shakes his head and lets out a long breath. “No, we can’t.”

“You’re not even trying,” I argue.

He pulls away from me. “Fuck, Bunny! I’ve tried before. Why do you think he has my brother record what he does? What he makes me and Tristan do? It’s so if something ever happens to a girl, he can prove that we’ve touched them. Hurt them.”

“But you haven’t hurt them, have you?” I ask wide-eyed.

He gives a dark laugh. “Whether it’s physical or mental abuse, it’s all the same, Bunny.”

I wrap my arms around myself. “He can’t keep doing this. They can’t keep doing this.”

“They’ve been doing this since long before we were born. Nothing can stop them when they have help on their side.”

“We could let them go—”

“Do you wanna die?” he snaps, interrupting me. “Because that’s what’ll happen, Bunny.” He storms back over to me. “Don’t you understand that? I can’t protect you from them. I can’t do anything right now but play my part.”

I narrow my eyes at him and shove his chest. He doesn’t budge. “I’m starting to think it’s more than a part.”

His lips thin, and he places his hands on either side of my face against the door, caging me in. “You think I like this? Huh? You think—”

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