Page 47 of To Have and to Hold

My eyes fell upon the stirrups Rafe had strapped my legs into, and a dish on a table with a syringe and a thin metal tube. It looked hollow in the middle, and, with a shudder of recognition, I realized what Rafe had done. The horror of it rushed over me. I’d been too messed up in the moment to pay attention.

He’d gone right to my core.

Taken no risks. Injected his semen straight into my womb like the sick bastard he was.

I cried out and fought against my bindings, desperate to claw away at my stomach, to rip it all to pieces and dig all of him out of me. Every little drop forced inside me. I tried. I moved and swung myself, my bare toes scraping and trying for purchase, but he’s strung me up just enough that it was impossible.

I burned inside and out, wounds marring my skin, my insides, my entire being aflame with it. Something poured down my legs, blood, I think, but it was hard to tell in the looming darkness. I was a slaughtered pig to him and his buddies, waiting for sacrifice.

Slumping, defeated, I let my mind drift to Theo, to how he could make me feel. The way just a small look or touch from him sent me alight in the best way. The comfort of his presence. I needed it now more than ever. He was a fantasy to sink into, a way to ignore my reality.

And I knew reality was sinking. I was reaching the point of no return, that precipice where I knew there’d be no turning back in my mind. Insanity beckoned. And I welcomed it.

As it was, I just floated in and out of consciousness, unsure what I hoped for. Maybe if this time it worked, if Rafe’s sperm found one of my eggs, maybe then I’d get a reprieve. But the idea of him taking root inside me made me want to die. I’d rather suffer a thousand beatings, a hundred men forcing themselves between my lips. Suffering that would always be better that carrying his spawn.

So I allowed myself to float, imagining my death in either situation. At Rafe’s hand if I wasn’t pregnant again. And my by own if I was. I let it wash over me, that oblivion, that blankness I could drift through. It wouldn’t matter anymore, any of this. Theo would be sad, I thought, but he would move on. No one else would care, except for Rafe’s wallet. He’d need to pay for another wedding, woo another family into giving up their daughter in exchange for the promise of power. He wouldn’t marry any random sucker. There had to be a benefit along with the walking womb.

As blood dripped from my toes, the only noise in the room apart from the rush of my pulse in my ears, I just swayed, let it happen. Let myself go. I willed my very being to flow away. Maybe I would force death upon me with only my mind. Numbness settled over me, and it was so damn good. I drifted, left my body.

Tears poured from me as I said goodbye to reality, begging for this to take. I had nothing left, no more drive or fight or strength. Rafe won. He beat me. He brought me down to my base and then kicked me for good measure. As I willed my mind to go, to run free somewhere else and leave the body behind, as I begged beggedbeggedfor it to take, I imagined Theo, smiling, kissing the corner of my mouth, laughing in the sun.

Just let go.

But then the sound of footsteps through the woods outside made me want to weep. They were coming back. There wasn’t time to go. With a crash, I returned to the cabin, the scent of gore and blood and musky spunk splattered. Pain flooded back in, sharp stings and despair smashed into me like it was all happening again. Each hit, smack and slice, catalogued one by one as reality came back. Rafe hadn’t finished, he was returning for more. More more more. Torture. Pain. Despair. Grief tried to make me cry, but my eyes failed, too weak. Nothing left.

I didn’t even stir when he came back in and his footsteps rushed towards me. My head lolled to the side again and I prepared to zone out. To keep aiming for oblivion. I realized a second too late that the footsteps didn’t sound like Rafes. They were hurried, panicked, lighter-footed, and I flinched when warm hands touched my cheeks. The voice I heard wasn’t cruel. The skin against mine was soft, gentle.

“My god, baby, I’m so sorry…” The voice made me sob, I was gone. I must be. It had worked. I’d willed myself away from hell and into death. I almost laughed. Theo’s voice, his magical, comforting voice, whispered through the room like an aural mirage. I sobbed, solace or pain, I didn’t know. Were they even different anymore?

My hand fell from above my head, aching relief rushing through my arms as the blood flooded in, reviving my veins and my limbs, tingling all the way to my fingertips as my legs lifted from beneath me, into the warm body of my imaginary brother. The rough fabric of his clothes was like fire against my abused skin, but I burrowed in, anyway. If this was all I’d have, if this was the afterlife, still the pain, but the bittersweet of having the one person I cared for, who cared for me, at my side, holding me, hushing me, kissing my head? I’d take it. I’d take it all just to have Theo’s fingers running through my hair.

“Come on,” he muttered. “Come with me.”

I let myself fall.

Mydreamswererough,and I knew they weren’t real because the pain wasn’t as intense as I’d grown used to.I recognized Rafe didn’t look demonic, not really. He was handsome, had one of those faces that was just this side of disarming. Just enough charm to get away with whatever he wanted without it being ridiculous. But as I slept, it warped into that of a monster, multiple heads, horns, snarling twisted up features as he abused me, attacked me, filled me with his seed and forced hellspawn babies from my womb, ripping them out of me with his clawed fists shoved between my legs.

I woke to the jostling of a car beneath me, the monotony soothing me fast, a familiar, almost comforting sensation. And it was real. Definitely. I took catalogue of my senses. Touched the fabric seat under my palm. Heard the rumble of the engine. Smelled the piney air freshener. Tasted blood in my mouth. Saw him.

To be moving, to be away from Rafe, was a miracle, one I wouldn’t take for granted. I paused and continued to take stock, let the last few hours wash over me. My hands and feet were free, untied. My mind was foggy with some kind of medicine, but it didn’t feel nefarious. The edge of agony was gone, muddied. Pain relief, maybe something to make me sleep. I lay on my side, a warm and heavy weight draped over me. And the ache in my belly was duller. It all was. The memories, the injuries scattered across my body. It was all dull. Except for his face, my savior. Either I’d willed him into reality or I’d lost my mind for good and none of this was real. It didn’t matter, not really. It felt real, so it was. I gulped back a sob as a glimmer of freedom beckoned.

Soft rock music played on a radio, a recognizable song just loud enough to hear. And Theo, I heard him, singing along under his breath, tapping his fingers on the steering wheel to the smooth beat.

The back of his familiar head, bobbing to the tune, focused ahead as we flew down a road at speed. It was dark outside, and I think it had been when he’d scooped me up from that hellholeand pulled me free. I couldn’t remember much of it, only his pounding heart against my ear as we ran through the compound and I tried to make sense of what was happening. After five minutes of running and cursing the world, Theo was placing me in a car with soft movements. He spoke to someone, I think, on the phone, but my brain was too fuzzy to pick out what he was saying. Then I fell asleep. Or was forced asleep. It was all so damn blurry in there. Real, I thought. It must be. It was too vivid to be imagining.

And if I was in a fantasy, then I was sure it wouldn’t be blood I could taste in my mouth.

“Theo,” I muttered, wincing at my dry, aching throat.

He gasped and glanced over his shoulder, a look of relief flashing across his face before he turned back to the road to stop us swerving off of it. “Hang on,” he said, voice thick.

I pulled myself to sit, ignoring the way my head wavered and my body protested. It wasn’t clear if it was just thetortureI’d suffered, or something else wrecking havoc from inside, but I yanked the blanket over myself, noting I was now dressed in a t-shirt and boxers, hopefully Theo’s, and took some deep breaths. Without looking back at me, Theo held a bottle of water out for me to grab. I took it and almost cried at the cool liquid soothing my ravaged throat, gulping down half the bottle before I stopped. The bitter taste in my mouth washed away a little, but I needed a damn toothbrush, a gallon of toothpaste, and mouthwash. The things they’d made me do…

It was bleak. All so fucking bleak.

We sat in silence, the radio still playing until Theo pulled the car over to the side of the road and climbed out, scrambling in beside me, damn near crawling across the seat to get closer. His eyes were wide, frantic, desperate to reach me, and full of open relief as he tugged me into his arms and I broke in two. Shattered. He feltreal.Warmth enveloped me, delicious,comforting warmth surrounded my body as I cried and grabbed for him to be closer.

“We’re away,” he said, kissing the top of my head before resting his chin there, cocooning me. “I got us out. Got you out. We did it.”

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