Page 5 of Hold On

“Coming from the hooker working said alley,” he growls as he grabs at my sweatshirt pocket, bringing me closer to his face. The smell of Coors Lite wafts off of him.

I visibly cringe.

“I’m literally doing this to save my life, although seeing as it’s a complete shit show, I don’t know why I haven’t blown my own brains out yet,” I hiss back, but I know why. After losing my brother to suicide, it doesn’t really seem like the best option for me. At first, I wanted to make sure I stuck around to help my dad get through everything. But when his facade crumbled and his massive gambling addiction finally came to light, he sold me off to Luke to cover one of his many debts. I honestly have no idea if he’s alive or not. It wouldn’t surprise me if one of the other loan sharks had gotten to him. Unfortunately for me, Luke is fond of me and I’m not going anywhere. He likes to use me to bring in cash and when I’m done serving his clients, I usually service him.

Every weekend.

Luckily, Monday through Thursday I’m able to do whatever I want, which is usually work at my second job waiting tables to afford the mortgage for the small house I purchased on my own and have been fixing up over the last five years. It’s also how I get by without dipping into the money I make for Luke to pay offmy inherited debt. But work at the restaurant is slow and they haven’t called me with any hours in a couple of weeks.

So, morefuckingit is.

My house isn’t much of anything, but it’s mine and it makes me feel like I have some semblance of control over myself, which is nice. I absolutely donotand whatever I can do to foster a false sense of security is vital to my survival.

“Well, why don’t you commiserate alone later, after I’ve gotten my nut off, Alina,” he remarks harshly. “Decide whether or not to kill yourself then, alright?”

I hate this fucker so much. And the fact that I have to unzip my pants and strip myself of them before getting back into my warm boots is just the acid-laced cherry on top of this literal shit storm of a sundae. Albert eyes my legs greedily as they pebble in the cold air. His fingers, black from working on cars all day, grope at my thighs as I repress a scream of rage. He kicks my feet apart with his large work boots as I stumble, complying. “Open up, princess,” he oozes nastily. I turn my face away, not wanting to witness the violation of him scooping my panties to the side. He sucks his bottom lip into his mouth as he parts my folds and sinks his fingers into my pussy. I bite back a protest as my teeth bite into my bottom lip. “Hole-ly shiiit,” he says impressed as he retrieves his fingers and holds them up, the fake wetness I laced my cunt with on display between us.

Pure lube. Not me. Not at all. Like I could actually get wet for these vile fuckers.

But it does the trick and he’s playing right into my sleight of hand as he reaches for his zipper and aggressively pulls it down. “Turn around,” he demands gruffly as he forces me into the wall and bends me over. The cold air bites into my most sacred parts as Albert bares me for the world to see by pulling my underwear completely down and pushing my shoulders forward. I’m so happy he can’t see my face as he spears himself into me afterrolling down a condom on himself. I’m filled with his offensive body as the wind blows raindrops into my face. My breathing hitches in waves of jagged emotion that he mistakes for arousal. He begins to pump himself into my cunt, the pace too quick too fast, talking about how good he’s making me feel and how wet I am for him.

Ha. If he only knew.

I brace myself against the wall and cry, doggy style always allowing me to mourn the girl I was before. The girl who used to have control over who fucked her or not, so much so she unknowingly created a persona of chastity and purity around herself when her name was mentioned. My reputation is quite different now and I feel terrible for myself as Albert continues to jackhammer his way through to his orgasm.

I try not to do it. But my mind always wanders back to that beautiful boy with the long hair and guitar, who could stop my breathing with just a smile. Whose fingers never stopped moving to imaginary music only he could hear. Bash… What would he even think of me now? A literal, fucking whore. I went from being his prized possession to a girl devoid of life before I was then sold off to temper the anger of one my father’s evil overlords.

I sniff loudly and endure.

Endure like I’ve always done.

“Are you fucking crying, bitch?” Albert’s voice is a painful reminder of my reality as he grabs the hair at the nape of my neck and turns my face towards his. “Seriously, Alina? This has been going on for five years and you pick now to fall apart?” His words are laced with poison as he looks me over with an enraged glare. “I pay you to stand there and take it. When you cry, it makes me feel like a creep, like I’m demanding something from you that you aren’t freely giving,” he growls, spit flying onto my cheek where it meets my tears.

“Paying someone to fuck them isn’t them giving something freely away, dumbass. I never asked for this! Who whores themselves out in such a way if they’re doing this willingly?” I rasp. His eyes bore into my own without an ounce of sympathy. I try not to flinch because Albert isn’t shit, but he’s big and mean and drunk and I wouldn’t put it past him to make me comply to his demands by force. It’s happened before.

God, I’m so depressed.

My cheek is pulled harshly towards his mouth as he licks all the tears from my face in a show of power. “Not while I’m inside you, got it?” he barks with a menacing tone and it’s all I can do to shut my mouth and take it until he’s finished. But the tears… they won’t stop and it’s making him meaner.

“Goddammit, you stupid slut. Stop fucking crying,” he yells while digging his fingers into my scalp and pressing my face painfully back into the wall before me as he continues his rhythm from behind.

“You’re hurting me!” I yell back as I try to move my upper body, but he’s leaning into me with all his strength and I’m fucking stuck in this awkward position. “Albert!!” I scream. He simply responds by picking up his pace and grunting as he does so.

What a fucking prick.

I wanna die all over again.

His weight is like a metaphor for all the things that won’t allow me to surge back to life, to come up for air. But just as I feel myself give into a fresh wave of tears, Albert’s body is whisked back as he’s ripped from my pussy. I’m able to free myself of the wall by crumpling to the cold asphalt.

“What the fuck?!” Albert shouts as he stumbles backwards, his pants around his ankles making it impossible for him to fight back or gain his footing. He’s flailing about, his average-sized dick shrinking in the cold, the condom going limp. I can’t helpbut laugh at that. It feels satisfying to see him growing physically smaller at the hands of another man.

It finally registers that I’m actuallyseeinga second man and when it does, I wish Albert was still fucking me and that no one had intervened. Because I see Sebastian Cox. The older, angrier, fallen rockstar version of my former boyfriend holding him and I’m displayed unceremoniously on the ground before them as Bash takes his fists and repeatedly beats Albert’s face in. And just for good measure, living up to his name, he bashes Albert in the dick and balls with a powerful kick that makes him scream so loudly, I finally snap out of my daze.

“BASH!” I holler hysterically as his eyes meet my own. They’re unfocused and crazed at first, then sharpen like a predator’s as he zeroes in on me. He approaches me swiftly, immediately yanking me to my feet and pulling up my underwear in one aggressive movement. I barely have time to snatch my pants before he’s parading me towards the front of the building.

“You’ll fucking pay for this, Alina!!” threatens a wounded Albert from the asphalt. “Luke is gonna hear about everything, you stupid whore!!”

I shiver knowing he means every last word. And Luke is going to belivid. Which always means more fucking for me in the end. My boots stomp through the puddles towards the black Audi Bash is unlocking, his warm hand firmly attached to my upper arm. Water is running freely down my bare legs. I can’t even enjoy our surprise reunion.

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