Among the Echoes (Wrecked and Ruined #2.5)(2)

"Not happening. You go first, but I'm the only one who gets her ass. You so much as dip a finger in what's mine and I will rip your dick off and f*ck you with it myself." Marcus spits on the floor and cocks his head with a challenge. "That's the rules. Take it or get the f*ck out so I can take it."

I turn my head to face Marcus, praying he will take pity and release me, but his eyes only flash to me long enough to take in my freshly busted lip. He storms across the room and, without warning, punches my abuser maliciously in his mouth, knocking him to the floor.

He leans down into his face to drive home his point. "She's f*cking bleeding! I warned you, Johnny. I f*cking warned you!" he shouts just before kicking him in the stomach.

"She wouldn't shut up!" Johnny yells back, holding his stomach.

"Who the f*ck cares? Let her scream. The rule was don't make her bleed. Now I'm gonna get blood all over my cock while she's sucking it. Get out. You're done." The injured man stands with his nostrils flaring as he exits the room.

I breathe a sigh of relief, and Marcus swings his head to mine. His dark eyes should terrify me, but somewhere deep inside, I feel a sick safety with him—the man who is supposed to kill me.

It must show on my face because he gently shakes his head and calls out, "Lee, you're up!" before striding out of the room.





The hours that follow fade into a blur. I wish I could lose consciousness as man after man rapes me, stealing pieces of the woman I will never be able to find again. At first, I fight, screaming with every thrust, but as my voice begins to crack from hoarseness, I find a deep, dark place within myself—a place I never knew existed. I hide in the welcomed darkness.

"She's all yours," I hear the most recent man say as he leaves the room.

I steel myself for yet another round of filth, but as I open my lids, I meet the chocolate-brown eyes of Marcus. My body relaxes, but bile creeps into my throat when I remember what his turn means.

"Shut the f*cking door!" he shouts over his shoulder while unbuckling his pants.

I squeeze my eyes closed, preparing for the worst.

Surprisingly, my hands are immediately untied. I should run or at the very least fight, but I'm too weak. I haven't eaten since I was brought here, not even to mention that I'm a third of his size. I’m well aware that there is no sense in trying to fight him, but I have to give it at least one shot before giving in to the culminating darkness once and for all.

I barely even move my arms before he grabs them and flips me over. My legs are still tied and my ankles cross as he spins me to my stomach, pinning me against the bed.

"Scream," he whispers in my ear with a low rumble.

I shake my head, unwilling to give him what he wants. I might be powerless in every way, but my voice is my own. I won't give him that.

"Erica, scream or you get us both killed."

I'm startled by the use of my name. I turn my head over my shoulder to meet his gaze, and finally, I'm not the one pleading.

"I'm not the bad guy. I need you to scream and make it believable."

His eyes flick to the door, and I give it everything I have left. I let out the blood-curdling sound I have been holding in since I gave up on myself. But I only do it because, for the first time since he took me, I have hope. It may be a horrible sound to others, but to my ears, it's a rejoice.

"I'm going to let you go. Don't make this difficult. I will do whatever it takes to subdue you, even if that means hurting you." He looks down at my bruised and battered body, shaking his head with disgust.

I nod, acknowledging his words. But I’m confused and not completely certain I can follow his orders.

He unties my legs and drags a blanket from the chair to cover my nudity.

"Here." He pulls a protein bar from his pocket and places it in my shaking hands. "Eat. We don't have long." He grabs a water bottle off the nightstand next to the bed and drops it in my lap.

"Are you going to kill me?" I ask, but he doesn't respond as he begins to quietly pace around the bed. "Please just let me go. I won't tell anyone."

"Eat," he gently urges while sitting down on the edge of the bed.

I'm starving. And even as my stomach threatens to revolt, I know I need this. Who knows when I will see my next meal? If ever. I unwrap the bar and hastily devour it.

"Here." He pulls a small tube of lube from his pocket.

At the very sight of it, I jump away as if it were a weapon. Pain rips through my tattered body when my legs painfully close together.

"No. I won't touch you. I just need you to take this and rub it all over your ass. You need to make this look legit. Go ahead." He turns his back to me as I sit frozen, holding the lube. "Erica, please! I don't have time for you to figure this out. Do it!" he growls, never turning back to look at me.

Completely unsure why I'm following his directions, I open my legs and carefully apply the lube. "There."

"More," he says, still not looking. "Rub it all over your ass, cover as much as you can reach. If you were fighting me, that shit would be all over the place. Rub it on your hands and touch places on your body, including your breasts."

"What's going on?" I ask while squeezing the lube into my hand. "Why are you doing this?"