Page 67 of Unorthodox
Her chest is covered in angry red marks.
Whips.
She’s been whipped. But not on her back.
The man stares at her a moment, from behind her. He slowly walks around to her side, and she doesn’t move.
Then he kicks her in the ribs.
I cover my eyes with my hands as I hear her soft grunt.
“Oh no,” Max’s cold voice says from by the door, “open your eyes, love.”
I don’t. I press my fingers so hard against my sockets it hurts, but I refuse to open my eyes, especially as I hear the girl moan again.
Then the man speaks for the first time. A British accent as he says, “You ungrateful fucking bitch.” Anger laced in his words.
This time, the girl cries out.
I know he must have hurt her again.
I refuse to look.
I feel like I’m going to be sick.
“Addison,” Max says softly. “Open your eyes.”
I shake my head, bury my face against my knees so I can clamp my hands over my ears. I don’t want to hear it or see it. I don’t want to be here.
I want to run.
When I hear the girl cry out again, I can’t help it.
I start to scream.
In seconds, hands wrap around my wrists, pulling them from over my head. I keep screaming, even as someone grabs my face, forcing it up, away from my knees.
Max.
My eyes lock on Max’s, and the scream dies in my throat.
The projector is still on, but it’s a white screen again.
The girl is gone. The man is gone.
I notice, out of the corner of my eye, Dante is staring straight ahead.
Max’s blue and grey eyes are focused on mine. “Do you know that’s going to be your life?” He has my wrists in his hands, but I kick out at him, my foot colliding with his chest.
He swallows, but that’s his only reaction that he was affected at all.
Still, just as I try to kick him again, he grabs my shoulders, pins me to the cement floor, hands over my head as he straddles me, his knees preventing me from moving my legs.
I twist my head away from him, my lower lip trembling as tears spring behind my eyes.
“That’s going to be your life soon, love,” he says again as I stare at the wall, trying not to think. Trying not to feel his body on mine. “And if you keep trying to fuck my men, it’ll be your life here, too.”
“I fucking hate you.” It’s a whisper, and I don’t even know if he heard me, so I say it again, just in case.“I fucking hate you.”
