Page 148 of Deserter

He forced my face back onto the carpet and slammed into me until stars danced in front of my eyes and I shakily reached out a hand to touch one. A boot came down, pinning it back to the floor and I began weeping.

“Lift her up,” Cobra demanded. Hawk didn’t slow down as he yanked me toward his body, ripping the hair from my scalp with his fists.

Cobra cupped my chin and tilted my face up. “Celia, sweetheart, where’s your old man?”

I coughed up more blood, spattering his face and the carpet beneath me. “I don’t know,” I admitted weakly.

Hawk pulled out, only to slam into me roughly again, pushing my face up against Cobra’s. He leaned in and sucked my bottom lip into his mouth, biting down to keep me in place. “So fuckin’ good,” he mumbled through clenched teeth.

He tasted wrong—like cigars and mint—nothing like Jamie.

I closed my eyes and thought of the missing paint. At some point, I’d turned off the rational part of my brain that had urged me to fight back. I shut down anything related to what was being done to my body. My only instinct was to survive and keep my girls safe.

For a minute or two, I lost consciousness, only to come to as Cobra moved beneath me, guiding himself back into my body with a low groan. “Fuck me, doll. I’d be inside this cunt everyday if I could. Hell, I might just take you with me.” He ran a finger over my C-section scar, and it jarred me from the oblivion I’d created in my mind.

That scar was sacred.

What lay under that scar had been sacred.

And they’d ripped it from me.

Hawk spit on me and moved away, only for Manny to take his place against my backside. “Scream, Ma,” he hissed. “Get those girls awake and we’ll show them a good time.”

The urge to cry out was overwhelming and I bit down on my lower lip until I felt the blood running down my chin.

Time bent and snapped, raining down reminders in the form of fists. The part of a man’s body that I’d only known for pleasure was now being used to tear me apart from the inside.

Cobra rammed into my body from beneath. Manny stabbed into me from behind. Hawk crouched in front of my face, forcing my mouth open until I began to gag around him.

I was theirs for as long as they wanted.

My body, which had only ever belonged to Jamie, was being broken to destroy him.

I didn’t fight back.

I took it.

I took it to save them.

All of them.

Cobra had been right. I wasn’t going to die tonight, but I was going to wish I had. I made the mistake of looking up at Hawk as he shoved himself down my throat. In response, I received another blow to the side of my head and then everything went dark.

I fought against consciousness, digging my fingernails into the darkness, trying to anchor myself. Fear kept my eyes squeezed shut and I listened, waiting to hear their grunts of pleasure, but the room was silent again.

My belly cramped violently, and I forced myself up onto my forearms to vomit onto the carpet.

I’d clean it up in a minute, I just needed to gather my bearings.

Reluctantly, I opened my eyes and searched the dim room for my attackers. The clock on the nightstand read five forty-three and my chest heaved with a sob.

My nasal passages were swollen from my tears and probable broken nose, creating a whistle with each inhale. Hot tears cascaded down my cheeks and I pushed past the overwhelming dizziness to reach the phone on my nightstand.

I winced as I punched in the number with my index finger; adding a broken finger to my catalog of injuries.

Please let him answer the phone.

Please.

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