Page 123 of Hard Knot

Something to receive the cruel hatred I carried for those men who ruined me.

I grit my teeth so hard, I feel the metallic taste of blood pool in stinging agony, but I can’t stop remembering that day.

That concrete floor.

Those hungry eyes.

The laughter.

Endless mockery all because I couldn’t stop what my body was made to experience.

"I don't need ANY of it!"

My scream bounces off the walls as I slam my fist into the tiles again and again. Each impact sends shockwaves up my arm, the physical pain a blessed distraction from the memories threatening to drag me under.

Someone's calling my name —my surname—but I filter it out.

They're not real.

Can't be real.

No one came that day.

No one heard me screaming.

No one answered when I begged every god, every power, every force in existence to make it stop.

To make them stop.

A hand grips my shoulder, and instinct takes over.

My fingers find their throat, squeezing with desperate strength as I spin to face them. My vision blurs with tears and shower spray, but I bare my teeth in a snarl.

"I won't let you hurt me!" The words tear from my throat, raw and primal. "Never again! Do you hear me? NEVER AGAIN!"

I can barely make out their features through the haze of tears and water, but it doesn't matter.

They're all the same.

All want the same thing.

"I'm not your fucking toy!" I scream in their face, my grip tightening. "Not your helpless little Omega to break! You think because I smell sweet, because my body BETRAYS me, that gives you the right to…to…"

The words choke off as memories surface:

Rough hands.

The taste of blood in my mouth.

The sound of zippers.

Laughter.

So much laughter.

"I never wanted this!" The confession bursts out of me, years of rage and pain and helplessness pouring forth like poison from a wound. "I never wanted to be a fucking Omega! I was GOOD!"

My voice cracks on the word, splintering like glass.

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