Page 14 of There Are No Saints

I can’t tell how long he’s been walking.

I’m praying that he’ll set me down somewhere, maybe next to a nice, convenient rock I could use to break these ties.

My plans are impossibly weak, I know that, but my befuddled brain can’t seem to think of anything better. My head feels like it’s split along the back, each of his steps sending another bolt of pain through my skull.

This can’t be happening. It’s too surreal. I can’t be one of those girls raped and murdered in the woods. Nothing exceptional has ever happened to me. The irony that this could be my one claim to fame is too much to bear.

Without warning, he dumps me on the ground.

I fall like a sack of potatoes, unable to put up my hands to protect myself, chin slamming against the dirt. The air wheezes out of my lungs and I taste blood in my mouth.

“I know you’re awake,” a male voice says.

The voice is utterly flat. The lack of emotion makes it sound almost robotic. I can’t tell how old he is, or if there’s any hint of an accent.

I can’t answer him because of the tape over my mouth. I can’t see him either—the hood is so thick that no light passes through. I know we’re outdoors from the sound of his shoes on the rough ground, and the dirt and pebbles beneath my bare skin. But I have no idea if we’re still in the city or hours from civilization.

I hear him crouch next to me, knees popping.

“Hold still,” he growls.

I feel his hand on my bare right breast and I howl against the tape, the sound smothered and trapped inside my mouth.

Red-hot pain stabs through my nipple. I’m choking and screaming, thinking he sliced it right off.

“Oh, shut the fuck up,” he says. “It’s not that bad.”

Before I can draw breath, he roughly seizes my left breast. The same pain stabs through it, and this time I understand that I’m being pierced, not severed. This motherfucker put rings through my nipples.

My tits are on fire, the cold metal fixed in place no matter how I squirm. It’s so much worse that I can’t see what he’s done—I can only imagine.

“There,” the flat voice says. “Much better.”

I tried so hard to maintain control.

It’s all splintering away.

I’m rolling and wrenching against the ties, thrashing helplessly, howling against the tape. I’m raging, screaming, though hardly any sound leaks out. The hood is wet with tears.

He’s standing there watching me, the way you’d watch a worm twitching. I can’t see, but I know it’s true.

If I could see his face, I’d find no pity there. No hint of humanity.

I scream harder, flail harder, knowing it’s all for nothing. I can’t do anything to help myself.

I’m about to die, and there’s nothing I can do to stop it.

My life has been a fucking disaster at times, but I wanted to keep it. I always believed it would get better.

I guess I was wrong.

“One more thing,” the man says, turning me over on my side, his heavy hand gripping my shoulder.

“GRAHHHHHH!” I scream against the tape.

A vicious slash burns across each arm as he slits my wrists.

* * *

---