Page 73 of Never Fall for an Angel

“I’m saying even villains need to be loved,” she whispers. She meets my eyes, her cheeks glowing red before she looks away. “And sometimes a dark soul doesn’t mean a dark heart.”

MILA

Smile for the camera, little whore.”

My head whips to the side as a fist connects with my cheek, and pain explodes behind my eyes.

“Fucking bitch,” the man inside me growls, the rotten face of his clown mask looming over me in the dimly lit basement.

I can’t speak around my gag, but my cries come out muffled and garbled from behind the piece of dirty cloth.

Not that anyone would hear me, anyway. He made sure of that.

Just let me slip away . . .

Let me close my eyes and not wake up again . . .

“So fucking tight,” the man raping me grits between his teeth, his head kicked back towards the ceiling as he thrusts between my legs.

His knife digs deeper into my flesh, and my back arches as my body desperately fights to get away, but it’s no use.

“You fucking love this, don’t you? Want me to cut you again?”

Another slice comes, and this one feels like he’s tearing me in half. The pain is excruciating, unlike anything I’ve ever felt, as he carves my body with his sins for the world to see. I scream, but no sound comes out, like I’m under the surface of the ocean, drowning as water fills my lungs.

This is how they’ll find me—carved and bound to a mattress in a dirty basement.

I’m going to die down here.

I shriek, my head thrashing back into the bed as tears slip uncontrollably down my cheeks. I can’t move from the rope securing my wrists above my head. I lost feeling in my arms ages ago.

“Mila.” The voice is sharp, tinged with the agony I feel as the man between my legs comes, covering my blood-soaked stomach with his vile seed.

“Oh, fuck . . .” he groans when he slips back inside me, his fingers tracing the open wounds on my stomach. “Fuck you’re tight for a whore.”

He wastes no time, stabbing into the flesh right beside the first letter, and my vision goes dark as the pain blinds me.

“Mila, baby. Wake up.”

I crane my neck, trying to force my eyes to open at the voice, but I can’t. I can’t move. I can’t fight. I can’t even fucking breathe.

He’s going to kill me.

Please, kill me.

“That’s it, little whore,” he chuckles, the large, overpainted lips of his mask curled into a sneering smile. “Let them know how much you’re enjoying yourself.”

“Mila,” the voice growls in my ear, and I scream, fighting back at the hands that reach for me. I fly away from their touch, crashing to the floor from the bed in a painful tumble. A dark silhouette looms over me from the darkness of my bedroom, and I throw myself back into the side of the bed.

“No!” My voice is hoarse when they reach for me, clawing at the man in the darkness with everything I have.

Not again . . .

“Mila,” a gruff voice sounds, and hands clasp around my wrists, holding them against a hard chest.

“Please,” I beg silently, my heart feeling like it’s going to burst through my ribcage as the agony drags through me like hot coals.

It’s him. He’s found me.

---