Page 17 of Oathbreaker

I scream, my rage echoing off the walls and absorbed by the dead trees and silent snow.

“Scream, scream, Winter! No one can hear you!” He laughs, gleeful at my agony.

“Did you let him have what’s mine?” With savage punches, he breaks my body, most of his hand tearing at my insides.

“Ad-am,” I sob. I push at him, hitting him on the back, on the side of his head, kicking him, and thrashing in wild desperation.

“You did, Winter. I already know. You let him have something that wasn’t yours to give. You are mine, Winter. But you must have forgotten.” He lifts off me, but the reprieve is short-lived. He grabs my hair again, wrapping it around his wrist and leading me to the bathroom.

“Since you’ve decided to be a filthy whore,” he stops at the kitchen counter, grabbing the bucket. “You’ve got to get clean.” He throws me in the clawfoot tub, and I slip on the slimy mildew. Blood tracks down my legs. I scramble to run, ready to run and run and run away. He grabs me around the waist and bends me over his lap when he sits on the rickety toilet.

“Bad girls get clean,” he says. Then he shoves the rigid plastic inside me. I grab at the floor, his legs, but he has me pinned to him, and my broken ribs protest at the movement.

A feeling of fullness expands within my womb. Looking over my shoulder, my eyes struggle to focus past the pain as he holds the red rubber bladder up and forces the foul water into my body.

He’s cleaning me out. Literally.

“You’ve been bad, but we can make it right.” He squeezes the balloon tighter, and the rush of fluid makes me groan in pain. “You’re mine for the rest of your life. They may kill me, yes. But I get to have all of you until you close your eyes and leave this earth.”

He rips the douche out of me and throws all of it into the dirty tub.

“Let’s let it sit, princess. We’ve got to get you nice and clean.” He rubs circles on my lower back, and I’m still with shock. I can feel the fragmented parts of my psyche shattering as the seconds tick on.

My stomach roils, and I know I’d throw up again if there was anything left for me to expel.

“I really hate that I have to kill you, baby. But there’s only enough for one of us to survive out there, and, well, this is what you get, if I can be completely honest with you.” One hand tangles in my hair.

He rubs my ass, causing me to clench. The pressure is unbearable, and tears leak out of my eyes.

Nothing feels real, but the pain anchors me to the moment. To the reality that I’m here, in this room, in this fucked-up place, with the man I hate the most.

“Do you think about our daughter?” Adam asks after a sharp, short inhale. He shifts to rub my thighs. They tremble. “I do. She’d be a teenager now. I wonder all the time what she would look like. It’s a shame you couldn’t keep her safe.”

“I was a child.” I spit at him, venom thick in my words. “I was a child, and you raped me over and over. Getting pregnant was a horrible result.” I don’t recognize my voice.

“We made love, Winter! What we did was love because you are mine!” He stands up and places me over the putrid toilet. “Release,” he says. I’m helpless as tension leaves my pelvic muscles—they clench and unclench, and a rush of water exits my body.

“You’re a rapist,” I hiss.

“You’re a liar, Winter! You love me. You want to be with me. You always sought me out. You wanted to be by me. You wanted it as much as I did.” He slaps me across the face. Thankfully, it’s on my good cheek. My body smacks against the linoleum floor, and I’m flipped to my back.

“Winter, why can’t you be good?” He puts his hands up to his head. A dry raspy sound amplifies as he rubs his hands on his short, shaved head.

He drops to the grimy floor. Kneeling between my legs, he pulls me closer to him by my hips. “You just have to remember, Winter. That’s all.”

As his belt buckle clinks and I hear him unzipping his pants, I know this is it.

This is the moment I truly die.

Because no matter what happens after this, no matter when he does kill me, this is the moment where my soul gives up.

I stop crying. I stop feeling.

Hunter. I wish I could have had more time to love you.

I turn my head to the side, blind to his movements, the dank cabin, and the snowy forest as I stare at the cobwebs under the tub.

No one is coming to save you.

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