Page 349 of Ashes of Sin and Stardust

Her nightmares were back in full force. I held her and kissed her and soothed her as best I could, but fuck was it hard to see her hurt so badly, to see her so fucking broken, and not be able to do anything other than keep her from slitting her own wrists.

I hated Woodrow. It was a damn good thing he was in custody and not allowed to live at home during the trial. After a particularly bad night where I’d had to hold her still to keep her from slamming her head against the headboard, had he been a free man, I would have gone to his house and shot him in the head.

But every morning, we went through our ritual. I helped her into the belt and cuffs, and then the body collar. I brushed her hair, kissed her, and put her phoenix necklace around her neck. She was still getting used to wearing it, but she insisted on it every day. And every day, for those few minutes, the only thing that mattered was that she was safe, in my lap or at my feet.

We made it through the trial by the skin of our teeth, with a lot of screaming, cuddling, forced orgasms, bondage, and no visible bruises from the copious spankings she requested and always received. It was pure and utter survival mode, and every day felt like our last.

But every day... we got up. Sometimes I had to make her. Sometimes she had to make me. But we had nochoice, so we did it.

One day during lunch near the end of the trial, she sat on a bench with her legs over my lap. I was leaning against the back of the bench, completely exhausted and emotionally torn a billion directions.

“Are you okay,” she asked me. “You look tired.”

I stared at her, appreciative of her concern for me when she was the one having her dirty laundry aired. Today had been rough, but she’d smiled twice, and was now happily eating her sandwich and munching on her bag of Doritos.

“I’m exhausted,” I admitted. “I’m so tired, Alice, and I’m furious about all of this. And I hate listening to them criticize you and try to justify the shit he did to you. And I hated watching it, and... I want to strangle him.”

“Well, don’t say it too loud, because if he dies in prison, you’ll be questioned for arranging it.” She smiled, but then her face fell. “That was a joke.”

“It’s oddly tempting.”

She set her sandwich down. “It’s a lot. I know it is. It makes you feel like you’re stuffed full of fire and sand and smoke, and you’re just going to explode. Like a pressure cooker. Right?”

I stared at my phoenix in wonder. Whatever I was feeling right now, it was probably just a fraction of what she experienced every day.

She smiled at me. “It’ll be okay. Let’s watch tv tonight, and you can tie me up and make me cry. It’ll be great.” She went back to eating her sandwich.

I pulled her into my lap and pressed a kiss to her hair, relishing the feeling of her skin and the softness of her hair. “When this is over, let’s take some time off. Reset.”

“That sounds really good. Maybe we can go to Cullowhee for a while?”

“Actually... there’s somewhere I really want to take you. Somewhere special.”

“Where is it?”

“It’s a surprise... but there will be lots of stars.”

On the day of the sentencing, the jury finally reached their decision and the entire court knew there was no other outcome. Alice sat in the front pew of the courthouse beside the other victims, their arms linked and their hands clasped.Rachel was in a hotel room with one of the Black brothers, hidden away from prying eyes, but waiting on a court-approved telephone line, as she had for the entire trial.

Peter Woodrow sat in orange, his face scruffy and his eyes defeated. He was found guilty on all charges and sentenced to life in prison. The case had become a big deal due to so many wealthy people being involved, the Regional Director of the CIA being called to testify, and the undercurrents of BDSM and sex slavery that the media was thrilled to exploit.

After the sentencing, each girl was asked if they had anything to say. Hillary spoke of her recovery from abuse and encouraged other women of sexual assault to seek counseling, refuge in trusted friends, and forgive their abusers. Tiama spoke of how one person’s selfishness can tear apart a family, and even end a life. Rachel spoke of learning to trust again after the darkest moments of her life, and then being offered a chance to break free of her trauma, only to have her autonomy wrenched away from her all over again.

Alice had a look of innocence on her face as she stood and addressed the court, and her former abuser. Only I could see the subtle purse of her lips that I identified as her brat face.

“I’m sorry I used you,” she said softly, looking so sweet and so hurt. “I led you on, Woodrow. When I discovered what kind of man you were, I should have broken it off right away. But instead... I led you on, and made you think we could have been more. I hope... I hope you can forgive me, as I’ve forgiven you.”

“You fucking bitch,” Woodrow muttered quietly under his breath. But the room was quiet enough that people had heard him. “You were my everything, you know that?” he murmured as he was asked to stand. “You were my favorite! You were my girl, you were my–”

“I’m not youranything,” she said back, and then smiled almost sadly. “I belong to Reuben Weston.”

He glared at her, rage in his eyes. I could practically see the smoke coming out of his ears, but he snapped his jaw shut. Furiously, his eyes darted over to where I sat near the back of the courthouse.

I’ve always been a little bit of a jerk, but today, I couldn’t resist. I gave him a subtle smirk and a wink.

Woodrow lost his cool and started shouting, lashing out at the security officers who led him out the back door and towards the van that would take him away.

The aftermath of the trial consisted of photographers and reporters attempting to get Alice and the other girl’s statements. Tiama and Hillary shied away from them, and a few security guards shielded them until they could get into their vehicles.

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