Page 62 of Edging Obsession

The door flies open and the two guys who put me in here walk in, slamming the door behind them. I scramble to my feet, back glued to the wall while they prowl in front of me, eyes raking over my body. I’m scared as hell. One guy takes a knife out of his pocket and cleans underneath his fingernails, clucking his tongue on the roof of his mouth. My eyes shift to the other who is rubbing his chin and grabbing his crotch at the same time.

My God, they’re going to rape me then cut me into pieces.

I step to the right, and the second guy mimics my move.

“Please don’t hurt me.”

They look at one another and laugh. Maybe they understand me or just assumed what I said. The one rubbing his crotch comes closer, lifting his hand to my face. I turn my head to the side to avoid his touch, but he runs his finger over my cheek, jaw, bringing his hand back to slap me again. This time, my head bounces off the wall, and I taste blood dripping from my mouth and nose.

In a quivering voice, I ask, “What do you want?”

The guy turns to the one with the knife, mouthing something, turns back, and grabs my hair. He drags me to the middle of the room. In one push, I’m down on the ground, and the other traps me by placing the chair over my torso and arms. I’m trapped between the chair legs and the back rung is above my throat. Aside from my legs, I’m immobile from the waist up.

I’m screaming, because I know my situation plummeted from bad to dire. Tears drip off my face, and all I can see is the guy’s back who is sitting on the chair. Hands grab at my jeans, opening the zipper and button. I’m kicking and yelling, and they laugh at my efforts. His fingernails scrape against my skin while he drags my jeans down my legs. My screams become more incessant and panicky, legs flying all over. Next go my underwear. His fingers run over my pussy, and he smacks it. Anger and fear have me shrieking. The guy mumbles something to the one on the chair, who bends forward to grab my ankles, holding my legs straight up so I’m spread wide for both. I’m begging for them to stop. My wails and pleas do nothing.

I hear a zipper, and my breath catches in my throat. This is it.

There’s commotion on the other side of the door, and I shriek as the door explodes off its hinges.

Miles shouts, “Close your eyes, Jules!”

My eyes squeeze shut. A constant flow of gun shots rings out and I feel the chair loosen around my arms.

“Keep your eyes closed until I say it’s okay.”

Miles tosses the chair off me, covers me with a blanket, and carries me out of the room. He’s yelling to others in German, and I hear hurried footsteps joining his. My arms grip around his neck, bawling into his shoulder. The blanket is over my head, so I don’t see anything. He drops into a seat, crushing me against his chest, and his heartbeat is fast. His lips press against my forehead.

“I got you, Schatzi. You’re safe. I’ll never let you go again. I promise you.”

This has me sobbing more. The car moves, and during the ride, Miles’ arms are like a vice as he whispers to me, trying to calm me down. My head is spinning in every direction. Abduction. Assault. Possible rape. Then Miles. Safety in his embrace. Warmth.

The adrenalin fades, leaving me heavy-lidded and dazed. I sigh into Miles’ neck, pressing my lips to it, and fall asleep.

I’m woken in a haze and unable to decipher what’s going on, so I lash out.

Miles grabs my wrists. “Easy, Jules. It’s me. We’re home.”

My head lifts to find him staring at me, while his thumbs caress my cheeks.

“Where were you, Miles? They almost—”

I choke on the words, and Miles cuts in. “I know, love. I’m sorry it took so long.” He angles my head back to make sure I’m looking at him. “Did they—”

“No.” I shake my head. “They were about to…” I take in a deep breath. “…but you arrived.”

He plants a soft kiss on my lips “Fuck, Jules. We lost you after they took off from the park. After searching and beating the fuck out of a couple of guys, we found out this morning where you were being held.”

“Why?” I hiccup. “Why me?”

“Because they wanted to get back at me. It has to do with Johann and me, and what better way to retaliate than to hurt those closest to us. Those we love.”

He turns on the shower, and it’s the first realization we’re in the washroom. I’m sitting half naked on the vanity, back to the mirror, and I’m about to turn to check out my appearance.

“Don’t, Jules.”

Miles works me out of my shirt and bra, hugs me around the waist, and brings me to the shower. He strips off his clothes and joins me. I can’t avoid seeing red swirl down the drain with the water. We remain quiet while Miles washes my hair and body.

As we’re toweling off, I hear my mother walking up the steps as she yells down, “I don’t care if he wants us in the room or not. My daughter was kidnapped, and I’m going to make sure she’s okay.”

---