WARNING: This chapter contains VERY graphic non-consensual contact that some readers may find tough to read. To me, it's an essential part of the story, but those who have issues with this subject matter may choose to skip the sections I've marked. I've posted a warning alert right before the disturbing scene and again right after. You can always message me for spoilers.

CHAPTER 13

Add Insult to Injury

My back burned hotter than a furnace and my skin was split and bleeding in several places. Even though he applied some kind of ointment after each beating, infection was still a very real threat, especially under these conditions. Over the last few days, he'd visited twice, both times, I recited the women's stories, incurring eight lashes one day and six the other. It didn't matter how much I begged for compassion or restraint, he didn't seem to hear or care.

While he was gone, I dissected everything he did and said, trying to figure out what motivated him. My mind was spinning as I tried to make sense of it all, but I guess that was my problem; I was applying rational thought to a man who was mentally sick. The one thing that stumped me was how he could get an erection when looking at the dead women and not when looking at me—a living breathing woman. Obviously, at some point, he'd been capable of raping Jenny.

I kept coming back to one important event—his twin sister's death. It seemed that every heinous thing he'd done could be traced back to that fateful night. His guilt over what happened was evident. I saw the pain in his eyes and heard it in his voice when he talked about her. There was no doubt in my mind that seeing her emaciated little body had traumatized him. Maybe his brain had gotten so screwed up by that image that it caused him to gravitate towards women who bear a resemblance to what he imagined she'd look like if she'd lived to adulthood, but only after they were half starved like she had been. In a sick way, it made sense, and made me wonder just how emaciated he needed me to be in order for him to become sexually aroused. Keeping someone alive and starving them at the same time was like teetering in the middle of a see saw and required a finely tuned balance. Once a person was dead, then raping them was pointless… unless he was waiting for me to die before raping me. That thought chilled me.

I shook my head, trying to rid myself of the image. I sounded like a demented therapist grasping at any explanation to try and make sense out of something that defied logic, but I had to admit it did explain a lot. Like why his sexual interest in me was increasing even though my skin had lost its healthy glow and I was losing so much weight my bones were becoming prominent.

I growled in frustration; it started from somewhere deep in the pit of my stomach and slowly built until it was a full-fledged scream. I shouldn't have to lie in this dirty cellar, wracked with pain trying to figure his crazy ass out. I should be home, living my life the way I choose. I needed to get my mind on something good—something that would make me happy—even if it was only for a moment. But I struggled to remember what my life used to look like. I tried recalling various memories, but they all seemed far away, as if they belonged to another woman. Then the memory of lying in bed with Joe on Christmas night floated into my mind. I had my head on his shoulder as he lazily rubbed my arm while we basked in the afterglow of our lovemaking.

"Joe?"

"Mmmm," he said, contentedly and before I could say another word, his phone vibrated. "Hold that thought cupcake." He grabbed it off the nightstand and checked the caller ID. His eyes quickly flicked to me and then back to his phone. Was that nervousness? "It's the Chief," he said as he quickly slid his arm out from under my head and got up, ignoring his naked state. "I'm going to let Bob out while I see what he wants." He answered the call as the bedroom door closed behind him.

Figuring he'd be gone for a little while, I burrowed under the covers and was just about to nod off when he came back in. I blinked my eyes open, hoping he wasn't going to tell me he had to leave. "What is it? Do you have to go into work?"

"No. Tonight, I'm all yours." He surprised me when he lifted the covers and climbed back into bed with me, nuzzling my neck, but it seemed like he was distracted, and I worried that maybe he'd gotten some bad news.

I leaned up on my elbow to get a better view of his face. "Is everything okay?"

"Yeah." He brushed his lips over mine and then deepened the kiss.

As his lips moved away from mine, my brain started functioning again, and I remembered what I was going to say before the chief's phone call interrupted me. "So—" I smiled, tracing his nipple, and flicking it playfully. "About that question you asked me when we were in Cuba—"

He stilled my wandering fingers and looked into my eyes. "I have to go out of town on assignment in the morning. Can we talk when I get back?"

I frowned. "When did this happen?"

"Just now."

I would be lying if I said I wasn't disappointed. Now that I'd made my decision, I was ready to move forward. I started to tell him my answer anyway, but he placed his finger over my lips.

"I know you think you're ready, but I don't want you to feel pressured. Think about it while I'm gone. I want you to be sure this is really what you want."

"I don't need any more time, Joe, I know my answer."

"Just humor me." He kissed me, effortlessly making me forget about anything but having him inside me… again.

Afterwards, laying contentedly with my head resting on Joe's chest, listening to his slowing heartbeat, I asked what I'd been avoiding. "When will you be back?"

"We're in the process of wrapping this case up, so I'm not sure exactly, but I wouldn't be surprised if it took us until after the New Year." He leaned in for another kiss, but I was too disappointed to continue.

I sat up with the sheet covering my breasts. "But you'll miss New Year's Eve." I'd had plans that involved ringing in the New Year with a ring on my finger.

I rubbed my hand over the pain in my chest. It literally hurt my heart to think of all the time I'd wasted by not accepting Joe's proposal. If I'd known I'd end up in this cellar, I'd have pinned him to the bed, and made him listen to me.

"Look at what was in the newspaper today," Durant said as he handed the paper to me, sounding way to happy for it to be anything good… for me. I glanced up at him and wanted to wipe the insufferable smirk off his face. Instead, I unfolded the paper and saw his likeness on the front page with the caption that read, Have You Seen This Man. Of course, the composite sketch was so generic, I was probably the only one who could tell it was of him. While I read the article and tried to digest this new development, he went over to the sink.

An unnamed witness had reportedly come forward with a description of a man who they were calling a person of interest in my abduction. They were asking for anyone who recognized the man to come forward or call the tip line that had been set up. I couldn't hide my reaction. Excited butterflies started swirling in my stomach. If the police knew about him, that meant they were close to finding me. I looked over at him, expecting to see fear on his face, but he was gazing at himself in the distorted plastic mirror, smoothing his hair back from his face as if he was preening for an adoring audience. His eyes found mine in the reflection. "They failed to capture my spark; don't you think?"

My anger ignited at his flippancy, but I had to know if this was a current paper or not. "Is this today's date—January 11th?"

He turned around, hip leaning on the sink, mouth curved into a wide smile and nodded. "You've been my wife for seventeen days now—just in case you were thinking of getting me something for our anniversary." He was trying to be funny, but I was having a hard time paying attention. All I could do was repeat the number seventeen in my head over and over. I couldn't believe it. It seemed like I'd been gone ten times as long. Where were they? As if he'd read my mind, he said, "You're probably wondering why they haven't found you." He let out a deep breath, and stuck his bottom lip out, mocking my situation with pretend pity. "Looks to me like they're not trying very hard, are they?"

He was wrong. My parents, Joe, and Ranger; they'd never give up searching for me. I had to remember that and somehow do my part to help them, but I had no idea how.

He pulled his chair over to the bed and sat down right in front of me, twisting the cap off a bottle of water. I was so thirsty; I could drink it in one gulp. I licked my lips, eyeing it with such longing. I knew I was suffering from malnutrition and dehydration. Over the last few days, what little urine I produced had gotten darker than usual. I didn't know how long it would take before the effects would be irreversible.

He watched me intently, his lips slightly curling at the corner enjoying the power of life and death in his hands. I tried not to react, but I'm sure he could see the desperation in my eyes as he slowly brought the bottle to his lips and drained it. He sat back, crossing his ankle over his knee and crushed the bottle before carelessly tossing it into the corner. "The newspaper doesn't say who provided the details of the sketch, but I think it was your mother."

Seconds before, I had been consumed by thirst and now it was forgotten. "Please don't hurt her." I begged as I imagined him running into her on the street and stabbing her or mowing her down with his car.

He waited unbearable minutes before speaking. "As long as you do what I want she'll be fine." He studied my face for a few seconds to make sure he'd gotten his point across and then stood to take off his belt. He offered his hand and I slowly got to my feet, knowing what was going to happen to me and that I had no choice. As we walked to the cases, I didn't fight him or entertain thoughts of running—not anymore. He'd made it clear I wasn't the only one he could hurt.

Just like every other time, I started with Jenny, and when I got everything right, I moved on to Sharon and got everything right again. His nostril's flared as his need to wield his weapon grew, but if I had my way, he wouldn't have a reason to strike me today. Ashley was next and I got all her story right as well. He was pacing now, vibrating with unleashed anger. His excuse to whip me was slipping by.

This was the fifth time I'd stood in front of the women reciting information and it was coming easier to me now. In my triumph, I got cocky, and mixed up Andrea's marriage dates with Karen's. I howled and stumbled forward when the line of fire licked across my thighs. The sudden brutality of the strike made me lose my balance and I fell to the floor, already feeling blood dripping from wounds that were never allowed to heal. I curled into a ball, beaten down, mentally and emotionally. I was getting through this moment to moment and wasn't sure how much more I could endure.

He didn't like that I was giving up. He whipped the belt against the floor as he paced—anger spiking and fading like my heartbeat. Finally, he pulled his chair over, and sat staring at me as if I was an errant child. His booted feet were mere inches from my head as my body racked with silent sobs. "If you tried harder, I wouldn't have to discipline you." He leaned forward, pointing at the women. "They don't appreciate having their memories tarnished because you fail to listen."

I hated hearing him speak on their behalf as if he was looking out for their best interests. I imagined myself in a similar case and another woman lying on the floor, slowly starving to death like I am now. I swallowed back vomit at the thought of him using me as an excuse to hurt her.

He nudged my side with his boot, prompting me to get up. The small movement made me scream and my tears streamed harder, but I made no effort to move. I was done.

He slid out of his chair, and grabbed hold of the chain, pulling me up by my neck. I sputtered for breath, my face turning red as my feet struggled to bear my weight. When my vision turned black, he let go. "You left off with Andrea," he said calmly.

I managed to stand on my own and finish the recitation. After the belt tore into me for the fourth time today, he threaded it back through the loops and helped me back to the bed. He was back to being solicitous of my pain while I heaved for breath in between sobs. I lay on my stomach, uncaring of what he did. I didn't even startle when the cold ointment dropped on my back. "Let me make it better," he said as he lightly rubbed over my bruises and welts, confusing me with his gentle touch.

BEGIN WARNING: Non-Censual contact.

When his hands dipped down to my ass cheeks, I knew where he was taking this. "Please, don't," I barely whispered as I struggled to turn onto my side, curling into a tight ball.

He ran his finger down my side, settling his nail into a partially scabbed over wound pressing until it hurt so badly, I thought I'd scream. "What's the cute little one's name?" he asked in an exceedingly kind voice. "You know—the one who gallops around like a horse?"

Breath left me as promptly as if he'd knocked it out of me.

"I could bring her to you?"

Fucking bastard. It was as if he'd flipped a switch inside me. I wanted to hurt him the way he was hurting me. I wanted to threaten him with the most horrific suffering I could imagine, but at this moment he had me over a barrel, so I begged. "Please don't hurt my family."

"That's up to you. Now, are you going to turn over onto your back?"

I couldn't live with myself if he hurt my family. I took an angry breath and turned over, vowing to make the bastard pay for every threat and every strike of his belt.

"I enjoyed touching you before." He spoke gently as his thumb and fingers clamped down on my jaw, turning me to face him. "Today, I want to try something else."

I opened my mouth to speak, but nothing came out.

His eyes sparkled adoringly at me. "You really are beautiful, you know?" He leaned down, taking my lips in a light kiss that made my stomach acid bubble. I tensed, and clamped my lips tightly closed. "Open your mouth." He stabbed his finger into my chest. My mouth opened slightly, letting his slimy tongue sweep inside, and roll around feverishly. I closed my eyes and forced myself not to gag when all I wanted to do was bite his tongue off. But I couldn't retaliate, not if I wanted to protect my family.

He fumbled through the kiss, and began moving his lips down my throat, to my chest, raising his head to give me sheepish looks every few seconds. "I watched a video yesterday, and I want you to help me recreate it."

My entire body stiffened. Throwing a bucket of ice water on me couldn't have affected me more. I knew what kind of video he was talking about, and I wanted no part of it. His mouth was wide open, excited about what he had planned and then it was on my nipple—sucking—first one, then the other. My jaw clenched tight as disgust consumed me and I closed my eyes. I picked at the welts on my thighs, giving myself something painful to focus on.

Sensing I was distancing myself he pinched my nipple. "Look at me."

I winced and opened my eyes only to find him peering at me with puppy dog eyes. He leaned down again, tongue traveling lower, past my belly button, watching me for signs of reactions. I thought I could let him do this, but I was wrong. I couldn't take it another second. "I'm not going to let you do this to me." My back screamed in pain as I struggled to push him off me.

His eye's blazed with anger and I dug my heels into the mattress, trying to scoot away. "I can see you're not going to make this easy." He got up and retrieved something from one of the boxes on the shelf. When he turned around, he had zip ties in his hands. Instant panic had me practically falling off the bed and hastily getting to my feet. Ignoring the searing pain on my back, I stumbled to the other side of the room, chains clanking as my tether slid along the ceiling. There was no way I was letting him tie me down.

He laughed hysterically, holding his stomach, and bending over at the waist to catch his breath. While he tried to quell his amusement over my useless attempt to get away, I cowered against the wall. He finally straightened and sneered. "We can do this on the cold floor in front of your sisters if you want."

I tucked my chin against my chest, heaving for breath, and tried to pretend he wasn't there. He quickly crossed the room and took my hand, holding so tightly I couldn't pull away. He had me and we both knew it. I didn't resist as he dragged me back to the bed. My feigned acceptance of my fate was going to be his downfall. He thought I'd given up—that I was amenable to whatever he had planned—but he was wrong.

He forced me down on my back again and I waited for him to feel confident in my obedience. When he leaned over me, I bit into his neck with all the force my jaw could muster. My teeth clamped down, breaking his skin and blood filled my mouth, running down my chin. For a split second, he was suspended in shock and then he punched the left side of my face, forcing me to release him.

I was temporarily blinded. The pain was too shocking. I hadn't thought beyond my initial attack and didn't know what to do now. When I blinked him back into focus, he was staring down at me in startled outrage, his hand covering the jagged wound to staunch the flow of blood. He was holding his breath, face turning dark red, and I could feel the anger pulsing from him in waves. My mouth was full of his blood. I turned to the side, spitting it on the floor.

He grabbed my collar with his free hand and pulled me up, taking his bloody hand off his wound to punch the right side of my face. My head snapped to the left with more force than last time, knocking me into the block wall. I let out a keening sound as painful bursts of light flashed and then warm liquid dripped into my left eye, causing my vision to blur. I pressed my hand to my head and tried to hold onto my thoughts, but they fluttered around inside my brain, never fully forming. Everything got fuzzy and my eyelids became too heavy to keep open. I blinked repeatedly, and then everything turned dark.

I grunted in protest as my body was being shaken and pulled. As the rocking motion became more insistent, my head felt like it was splitting in two. I was finally able to pry my eyes open and at first, I saw nothing. Then the dark shape of a man materialized, looming over me with something white plastered to his neck. My eyes drifted closed again, surrendering to blissful nothingness.

The next time I came to, I couldn't move my hands or ankles. I was zip tied to the legs of the bed, spread eagle at his mercy. He stood over me, thankfully, still fully clothed, but he had a twisted scowl on his face, watching as I weakly struggled to free myself. He got on his knees, between my legs, and shook his head as if he was disappointed in me for letting him down.

As swift as lightning, his hand slapped my already damaged face and I thought I was going to pass out again. "That's for biting me. Next time you try to hurt me—it'll be worse—much worse."

The sudden motion made me nauseous and I turned my head and I vomited on the mattress. I continued heaving until nothing was left. His face was emotionless as he grabbed my blanket and used it to clean the mess, throwing it to the side when he was done. "I only wanted to give you pleasure, but you keep making me hurt you."

His weight fell on me, heavy and bulky. I didn't have the strength to put up even a token of resistance as he ran his tongue from my belly button down to my mound, spreading me open with his thumbs, and blowing his hot breath on me. "I've never tasted a woman down here before," he said, with all the excitement of a teenage boy getting laid for the first time.

His lips curled when my stomach muscles contracted. "Don't you dare throw up again."

I weaved in and out of consciousness, occasionally catching flashes of him smiling at me, enjoying himself at my expense. Every time I closed my eyes, he smacked my face with his open palm to keep me roused. My head felt huge as I turned it from side to side, trying to clear the fog. I felt his mouth between my legs again, his wet tongue pushing its way inside my folds, licking and sucking, making me want to die.

He leaned back on his heels, panting as he ran his tongue over his lips, tasting me. His eyes lit up and then narrowed in wonder. "It's kind of sweet. Do all women taste the same?"

When I didn't answer, he put his mouth between my legs again and sank his tongue into me as deeply as it could go, stabbing in quick staccatos and then he started using his fingers, frowning in concentration while plunging them in and out of me. Pain flared and tears ran from my eyes, mixing with the blood from the cut on my head, soaking into the mattress.

He continued for several minutes until he finally sat back, fascination replaced with a snarl. "Why aren't you doing it?" he yelled. "This is exactly what the guy in the video did, and she loved it. He made her jerk like she was being electrocuted."

I was in so much pain, I could hear his voice, but I couldn't comprehend what he was saying.

He placed his hand on my injured jaw, forcing me to look at him. "You're doing it on purpose, aren't you?"

The pain of his fingers digging into my bruised jaw caused white lights to flicker across my eyelids, but he didn't care. He pumped his fingers faster and faster with no finesse as I stared sightlessly over his shoulder, my body moving with the force of his hand, but I wasn't present.

I heard him rustling around as he got off the bed, and then my arms and legs were cut free of the zip ties. On instinct, I curled into myself, burrowing close to the wall, and let the darkness swallow me.

END WARNING: Non-consensual contact.

When I woke, he was gone, and my head felt like I'd gone a couple dozen rounds with Mike Tyson. The rest of me didn't feel much better. There wasn't a place on me that didn't ache. As soon as I remembered what he did, the tears started, and I was afraid they'd never stop. So many vile things had happened to me in the last seventeen days, I wasn't sure I could go back home even if they found me. I'd never want anyone to know what he'd done to me. Never.

I tried to turn over, to find a more comfortable position, and heard a crunching sound. I didn't have to look to know it was another paper bag with a peanut butter sandwich and bottle of water. At least he hadn't left me to starve. I didn't know if that was a kindness or another punishment. Right now, I wasn't sure if I wanted to live or die.