Page 54 of Deviant

As I get closer, I turn back to face Magnus. What is he trying to achieve with this? What’s the point in showing me this? Does he think this will cower me?

“You don’t get it, do you?” Magnus taunts, keeping his eyes on me. “You don’t get it at all.”

“Get what?”

“He loved you. And he hated the fact that you rejected him.”

I shouldn’t blush. I have no reason to feel shame, and yet that memory comes back; waking up, realising what a stupid mistake I’d made, fuelled by one too many drinks, and the awkwardness of having to sneak out. Of having to creep out like I was some teenager. And then we’d bumped into one another at work and the look he’d given me, oh I’d tried to ignore it, I’d told myself I was reading too much into it. He was a nice guy. He meant well. Hewas harmless. He didn’t like me like that. I was imagining it, seeing something that wasn’t there.

But he’s looking at me now, staring at me.

My hands go up, covering myself.

I’m just as naked as ever and I hate how exposed I feel in front of them both, but for some reason it feels worse that Saul can see all of me, that he’s looking at all of me.

It feels like two worlds collide. It feels like something explodes. Something cataclysmic goes off.

“It’s not true.” I cry. “It’s not true.”

I know it isn’t. My friend wouldn’t do that. He wouldn’t betray me like that. He wouldn’t fuck me over when I needed him. No, my friend would have helped. Did help. He did everything he could, but the Brethren got there first.

Magnus lets out a laugh. It’s sharp, twisted, it echoes around us both and Saul flinches as if that sound means more than just derision to him, too.

“He did it, pet.” Magnus states. “He sold you out. He handed you over and then demanded recompense. He wanted to profit from your demise.”

“No,” I gasp. It can’t be true. I refuse to believe it. I refuse…

Magnus shoves a phone into my face, hits the play button and with one hand he wraps it around my throat, holding me in a headlock as he forces me to watch the security footage.

It’s all there. All in grainy, horrific detail. Saul offering me up like a piece of candy. It feels like my world shatters. What little hope I had left seems to die. How could he do this? How could he betray me like this?

“He did this to you.” Magnus murmurs. “He wanted you to suffer. He wanted you to pay.”

I shake my head, I jerk violently against the arms that hold me, but he doesn’t relent. No, instead the bastard tosses the phone away and starts to undo his trousers.

“No,” I shake my head as if I have any control. No, not here, not like this.

“He’s the reason.” Magnus says kicking my legs wider, like I’ll just take this abuse.

I lash out, trying to fight him off and he’s quick as a flash, using his foot to take out my ankles. I slam down onto my knees and he’s there, behind me, holding me down as he lines himself up.

“No,” I gasp, shutting my eyes, refusing to acknowledge that this is happening. That any of this is real.

He shoves himself into me, pressing all his weight onto my hunched over body. With his hand he grips my face, forcing me to look up, to stare back at my betrayer. Back at Saul.

My body has somewhat healed from its last assault, the pain is there, but it’s muted, as if my nerve endings are all getting used to the brutality, as if they’re adjusting too.

“He did this.” Magnus whispers into my ear as I begin to hyperventilate. “This man. He’s the cause of all your pain.”

I let out a scream, I dig my nails into the concrete, feeling the way every single one snaps off. What I wouldn’t give to turn around and claw the man’s eyes out, but he holds me too tightly. He overpowers me too much.

“How does it feel, huh? How does it feel to watch me fuck her?” Magnus taunts. “Her cunt feels so good, so tight.”

I gulp, I swallow back the bile. Repeating over and over that I won’t let him win. That whatever happens I won’t do that.

He groans again before running his tongue along my skin. “So fucking delicious,” he murmurs. “Tell me, Saul, when you fucked her, did you get her off?”

Saul shouts out something incomprehensible. I doubt he’s defending me, though I doubt he gives a fuck about what is happening beyond the damage to his own ego.