Tears of Tess (Monsters in the Dark #1)(53)

The brute shoved me through the door, and I jumped as it slammed shut. My throat dried, noticing how many locks braced the exit. It looked like a bunker—someone who didn’t trust a dead-bolt but had to have a chain and bar, too. What the hell did he do in here? Don’t answer that.

I tried hard not to panic, but breath came faster.

The brute strode fast, fingers bruising my upper arm as he pushed me through the house. Rooms of understated elegance and money greeted, but cobwebs laced chandeliers and dust rested on unused furniture. What the f*ck was this place?

“Why are you doing this?” I asked as he opened a room and shoved me through. My jaw fell open.

The ballroom of the dilapidated house had been turned into a sadistic fun-room. Plasterwork of roses and angels on the ceiling smiled down on rows and rows of dusty floggers, whips, restraints, and so many toys it could’ve been a sex shop. Two expanses of the huge walls were mirrors.

I immediately looked away from the image. I couldn’t stand the sight of being entrapped by two men. My life had fallen into the devil’s clutches and I’d done this to myself! I ran from Q. I’d been stupid. So, so f*cking stupid!

The brute grabbed my chin, making me look into black eyes. “I’m doing this because it’s high time that bastard Mercer gave me some *. He thought he could stop farming out women? Too bad, he has customers, and customers have needs.”

My world fell apart. That couldn’t be true. Q was many things, but I couldn’t see him sharing women, trading them, renting them out. But some terrified part wondered if that’s how he earned his money. Where did he go during the day? Were there other girls, hidden in the house, being used, abused?

I shook my head. Q hated himself for what Russian Lumberjack did. His apology ached with remorse. He couldn’t have those sort of emotions and be a trafficker, too. It didn’t make sense!

The driver spoke up. “That cunt Mercer has a lot to answer for, and we’re gonna take those answers from you.” He licked his lips. “The moment you said he was the one you ran from, I couldn’t believe my f*cking luck! He lied to us, and now you’re the one who will pay.”

I whimpered as The Brute grabbed the back of my neck, shoving me toward the massive mattress on the floor. I fell, coughing as a billow of dust surrounded me. My eyes smarted but I refused to let any moisture fall.

The men laughed and punched each other in the shoulder, as if they were about to get lucky on a date. The world was infested with evil. I hated them. Hated, hated, hated!

I glared up. “I’m not an object to take your revenge out on. If you have issues with Q, take it up with him!”

Brute laughed, slapping meaty thighs. “Oh, treasure. You are the perfect revenge.” He removed his brown jacket, shrugging it to the floor. “I am curious, though. How many girls does he have now?”

I clamped my lips closed. Q conned me into believing I was his only slave—his only plaything. Once again, jealousy gripped my heart. Everything Q made me believe was a lie. He didn’t care about me. He didn’t have emotions, and he trafficked women. He was worse than the men who kidnapped me—at least they wore their true colours. Q was a chameleon, so clever at hiding the truth.

Driver went to one of the racks and chose a flogger. Heartbeats raced as he swatted his hand, testing the sting. He grabbed a couple of packets from a dusty bowl and threw one at Brute.

The man nodded. “Merci.” His eyes fell on me and darkness took over. I wouldn’t be able to reason as no soul remained. I knew with deadly certainty they would kill me after. I wished they’d kill me now, before they ruined me.

Driver went behind me and I swivelled my neck, hating him being there.

The air thickened and all three of us froze—caught in a tiny window where normalcy reigned—then my life ended for the third time.

Brute threw himself onto the mattress; his bulk crushed, expelling my breath. I yelped as Driver’s hands wrapped in my hair, tugging so I had no choice but to lie down against the rank mattress. I always liked my long hair, but now I wished I was bald. My own body fettered me; I couldn’t get free. My scalp stung as he pulled harder. “Obey, slut.”

Brute wasted no time in clambering on top; his entire body made me retch. Breath reeked of cigarettes and sourness, and he pulled my legs apart as if they were matchsticks. He looked like a giant wildebeest, about to mount and rut to death.

My chest rose and fell; vision flickered with black spots as I hyperventilated. “Stop!”

The men laughed. “Keep begging, treasure. We like it when you cry.”

Oh, God. Oh, God. This was really going to happen. No humanity shone in his eyes. There wasn’t anyone to save me. No Brax. No Q.

Just me, two bastards, and an empty house.

I whimpered, squeezing my eyes closed as Brute unbuttoned my jeans and yanked them off. He did the same to my knickers as I scratched at Driver’s wrists, trying to make him let go of my hair.

Driver growled, letting go with one hand to slap me. The sound of palm hitting flesh ricocheted around the room. He slapped me again, coaxing tears to stream. Then he reached down, snaking a hand inside my t-shirt, pinching my breast so hard I saw jagged stars.

I wanted to remain mute, to not give them pleasure by begging. But words sobbed. “Please. I just want to go home. You were supposed to help me!”

Driver chuckled, twisting my hair with an evil flourish. “Oh, we’ll help you alright.”