Page 5 of Gator

“I-I’m not sure I’m comfortable with that,” she said, backing up. “I’m going to go to my room now. I’m very tired. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

She could feel his eyes on her as she walked into the house and up the stairs of the mansion. Not knowing who she could speak to about his sudden change in behavior, she shut her door and locked it, calling her friend in New Orleans.

“I just need to get a job quicky,” she said.

“Well, there’s nothing here at the main restaurant right now, but my family runs the restaurant at the casino. You could cut your teeth there and see what happens.”

“I’ll take it, Mike. Thank you!”

“Sure thing, kiddo. I’ve got a spare room where you can stay when you get here. When can I expect you?”

“I’m going to leave tomorrow. I need to get out of here,” she said quietly.

With her plans in place, she repacked everything and set her bags behind the chair near the door. Knowing her uncle slept late, she would be out the door before he even woke.

With the last of her bags packed, she decided to sleep in a t-shirt, bra and all, and just pull on some yoga pants in the morning and go. She couldn’t explain it, but there was a feeling in her gut that she just needed to run.

One last time, she opened the French doors to her balcony. She could hear the voices and smell the cigars being smoked by men below on the large veranda and knew that her uncle must be entertaining business associates again. They spoke of currency and coin, strange names of banks and accounts. Then she heard what she would regret hearing for the rest of her life.

“You’ve been the victim of their efforts. They took your drugs and women. They stopped your trade in Mexico. We need to stop them. Find them and kill them all.” That was her uncle’s voice, laced with a hatred and venom she’d never heard before.

“And how do we do that, Hanz? These men can’t be found, and it seems they cannot be killed. You want them dead for all the wrong reasons, my friend,” said the other man.

Panicked, Dylan stepped back into her room and closed the door. A gust of window took it from her hand, and she gripped it, closing it tightly. She prayed that it hadn’t made any noise, then turned off her lights and crawled into bed. For a moment, she thought of leaving immediately but dismissed the idea.

Seeing the warm tea by her bedside, she was grateful that cook had left it for her. Hot tea always helped her to sleep. She sipped the tea, already feeling more relaxed and ready to sleep. She thought once again about leaving immediately but realized how very tired she was and ignored her inner voice.

It was a decision she would regret.

She didn’t hear someone unlocking her door. She didn’t hear someone closing the door behind them. She felt a sudden rush of cold, then a warm hand on her thigh. Startled, she pushed back, grabbing the covers.

“Uncle! What are you doing here?”

“You’re a beautiful young woman, Dylan. I’m not so much older than you.” She shook her head, staring at him.

“No. I’m sorry. I can’t. Please leave.” He frowned at her, standing to remove his jacket. He tossed it on the chair, then kicked off his shoes. Dylan could feel the bile and panic rising in her throat. Her uncle wasn’t a large man, but he was much bigger and stronger than her.

“Yes, you’re a beautiful young woman. I’ve waited a long time to see if you turned out as beautiful as your mother, and to my surprise, you’ve surpassed her. I never married, Dylan. Never. I waited because I wanted a young wife. One that could provide a son to me.”

“No,” she whispered, tears streaming down her face. “Please don’t do this to me. Please.”

“I promise, you’ll enjoy it,” he smiled.

For the first time in her life, Dylan was disgusted by that smile. Once a joy to see when she came home, she felt as if bugs were crawling all over her skin. He reached for her ankle, pulling her to the edge of the bed. She kicked out, but he gripped her other ankle, spreading her legs wide.

“No!” she screamed. “No! Someone help me!”

“No one will help you, Dylan. This is my home. I give the orders, and they have orders to stay away.” He unzipped his trousers, shoving his dick inside her. A million things ran through her head. He must have taken her panties off while she was still sleeping. Why hadn’t she awakened? She tried to kick out, but he only laughed.

“That’s it. Fight me. Fight me! It’s very exciting to feel you writhe beneath me. You’ll do this every night for the rest of your pathetic life,” he sneered.

She stilled, not fighting him at all as he grunted and groaned. His face above her was a hideous, monstrous sight. It wasn’t loving. It wasn’t caring. It was a pathetic face. It only took him a few moments, then his body stilled. He kissed her forehead, and she turned her head. Gripping her jaw, he forced her to look at him.

“You are mine now, Dylan. Mine. I’ll send someone to buy you an appropriate wardrobe tomorrow. That baby I’ve put in your belly will be my heir. But don’t worry, sweet Dylan,” he grinned, zipping his trousers as he stood, “there will be many more.”

He left her in the dark room, and she raced to the bathroom, turning on the hot water of the shower. Out of nowhere, she turned, vomiting into the toilet. He’d raised her. He’d provided for her. For what? To get her pregnant?

She must have stood beneath the hot spray for an hour, the water finally turning cold. When she exited, she put on clean clothes, leaving the ones he’d touched on the floor. Opening her bedroom door, she heard nothing. The house was eerily silent. Looking at the big grandfather clock at the end of the hallway, she knew why. It was only three a.m.

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