Page 80 of Merciless

It isn’t going to happen. I wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction.

Instead, I curl up on my side, giving the door my back. My tits burn like a motherfucker, but I like the pain.

It’s been one of the constant things in my life all these years that helps me to remember that I’m alive.

I had forgotten how addictive it was when I first went to live with Mav. But it’s just like riding a bike.

I want to look at them. Inspect Reid’s handiwork up close, but that has to wait. They’ve already stolen enough from me recently.

I am locking that shit down.

The room is as cold as ever, but still, it doesn’t stop me from falling into a fitful sleep.

“Looks like you were waiting for us tonight,” the deep voice praises, making all the hairs on my body stand on end and bile rush up my throat.

Squeezing my eyes closed, I fight to lock my emotions down.

They love it when I fight. When I scream, kick, punch, and cry. Sick bastards.

I continue cleaning up the kitchen, trying my best to ignore their burning stares.

It’s hot. Really fucking hot, hence why I’m not exactly wearing a lot. But I wasn’t expecting them back yet.

Dad’s usually gone a few hours before he returns and comes searching for me.

My stomach turns over.

“Looks like she’s ready to party,” another deeper, more terrifying voice says.

Fear licks down my spine. My skin erupts with goose bumps, but it’s not the good kind. Nowhere near.

Disgust rolls through me.

“Turn around, Alana. Let us get a better look at you.”

Pausing my cleaning, I suck in a deep breath.

They weren’t meant to be here yet. I wasn’t meant to look like this.

Or were you?

I desperately want to hang my head in shame. These men, and the others, have all stolen pieces of me that I know I’ll never get back. They’ve morphed me into their little plaything, and my subconscious is theirs to control. They’re in my head, and they know it too.

Squaring my shoulders, I finally turn around.

Defying them isn’t worth it.

I’ve tried it before and I’ve got the scars to prove it.

“Well, damn. It looks like she dressed up for us tonight, boys.”

My skin is slick with sweat from cleaning and my tank is nowhere near thick enough to hide anything. It’s old and ratty and full of holes.

Exactly as he likes…

And my booty shorts don’t exactly cover much.

“Come over here, Alana. Come sit on Daddy’s knee.”

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