His Gymnast by Darcy Rose
13
Aria
It’s a nightmare.The worst nightmare I’ve ever had.
Only it hurts. It hurts so much. Nightmares don’t hurt. They don’t make tears spring to your eyes when the pain gets to be too much.
I always knew Dale wanted to hurt me. I knew he hated me.
I had no idea it was like this.
“Why are you doing this?” I’ve asked him so many times, but he doesn’t hear me. It’s like he’s not here. He’s walking around the cabin, staring at me and muttering to himself, but his brain’s someplace else. “Dale, talk to me. Why?”
“Shut up.” He goes to the right side of the bed, where he’s tied my wrist to the heavy wooden post. Same with the other wrist, so both arms are outstretched.
The rope bites into my skin when I stay still, so moving around and trying to get free makes the pain agonizing. But I have to. I can’t just lie here and let him do things to me.
His face looks like a Halloween mask, and I’m glad it does. I’m glad Knox hurt him like that. There’s a gash on his forehead, stitched and bandaged. His nose is broken, and both eyes are blackened. His upper lip is split, and it looks like he’s missing at least two teeth when he offers a grotesque smile.
I force myself to keep looking at him rather than turning away in disgust. I won’t let him intimidate me like that. He can’t win.
“Why did you bring me here? Why couldn’t we stay at the house?” My voice is trembling. I have to stop that. “What are we doing here?”
“I told you to shut up! Bitch.” He takes my hand and twists it, making the rope chafe my skin worse than ever. I bite down on my lip until I can taste blood, but I won’t scream. I won’t.
He lets go, grinning with those awfully, bloody lips of his. “You made him come to the house, didn’t you? You told him you wanted—what? For him to kill me? Or was he supposed to beat me and scare me off? How did you plan it?”
“I didn’t plan anything.” I smile at him. “He kicked the shit out of you because he wanted to. Because you deserved it.”
“Shut up!”
“You asked me a question.”
What few parts of his face that aren’t bruised turn red. “Smart-ass with a smart little mouth. I’ll show you how to use that smart mouth.”
Oh, my God.
I never once got the idea he wanted this from me. Not once. He hates me because I cost him so much money and was such a burden on him. I’m not really his kid, so he hated having to do so much for me.
That was what I always believed, anyway. Now, I’m starting to think he treated me like he did for another reason. He never touched me in a sexual way. I never caught him looking at me like he wanted me.
Now? There’s no reason for him to hold back. We’re alone, in the middle of nowhere, and only one other person knows where to find us. If Mom didn’t try to stop him from taking me here, she’s sure as hell not going to do anything to stop this.
Does she even know what he has in mind? She couldn’t, or why would she have let me go with him?
Sweat starts to run down the back of my neck. Cold, icy. Nauseating. It intensifies when Dale comes closer to the bed. He’s staring at my body, his eyes moving over it, one inch at a time. He looks like a man who’s been starving and finally made it to the feast. I’m going to be sick.
He climbs onto the bed, then reaches into his back pocket. My heart clenches at the sight of a pocketknife. “Finally. You’re mine.”
“No. No!” I try to twist away from him, but it’s no use. The ropes are burning my skin. He tied them so tight, there’s no chance of me getting free. Still, I don’t make it easy for him, twisting and bucking my hips while I scream. While I shriek.
He flings himself over me and eventually straddles my body. I try to throw him off, but it’s no use. He’s too heavy, too determined to hold me down. I try to raise my knees into his back, but I can’t reach. I can’t reach his balls, either. All this is doing is hurting me, exhausting me. My strength is already starting to wane.
And all he’s doing is laughing. “Keep fighting. See how far it gets you.” He opens the knife. The sight of it gleaming in the light from the bedside lamp makes me fight harder than ever. I’m panicking. I’m starting to lose it.
“All mine. Nobody here but you and me.” He sighs almost sweetly, staring at my body again—my chest, mostly. “You have no idea how many nights I’ve spent thinking about this. Dreaming about all the things I would do to you if I had you alone. All the ways I could use this body.”
“Don’t do this! You’re my stepfather, for fuck’s sake! Doesn’t that mean anything?”
He only laughs as he brings the knife down, down, down to my throat. I gasp, holding my breath, my eyes trained on the blade. I can’t make a move, or else he’ll stick me. That’s how close the blade is to my skin.
Instead of slicing me, he slices my shirt, then opens it. His mouth is open as his breath comes in short, ragged little gasps. It would be hideous enough without his face being the way it is.
“You don’t know what it does to a man to go so long without something he wants. I’ve had way too much time to imagine this—all the things we would do together once I had you alone.” He slides the knife under my bra strap, and I try not to whimper, but I can’t stop myself. One quick jerk and it’s cut, the same with the other strap.
Finally, he slides the blade under the strip of satin between the bra cups. I get the sense that he’s savoring this, taking his time, letting all the sick fantasies he’s ever had about me run through his head before he slices my bra open.
I hate that he’s looking at me. Tears roll down the sides of my face as he stares at my tits. “Fucking perfect,” he grunts. I want to put that knife in his dick. I want to use it to pull his eyeballs out. More than anything, I want to die of shame.
He reaches out, and I watch in growing horror as he comes closer to my nipple. No, no, no—it plays on repeat in my head as I try with all my might to pretend this isn’t happening—even when he touches me, when his fingers close over my nipple and tweak it until I scream.
My high-pitched cry echoes through the small cabin, making my ears hurt. I hope it would make him stop, but he’s only getting more excited. I see his tiny dick getting hard, jutting out over my stomach. His breathing is faster, sharper. My stomach clenches, and I have to fight off the vomit trying to race into my throat. I don’t even think it would stop him if I threw up all over both of us. He’d probably make sure to hurt me more to punish me for it.
“I want you to call me Daddy.” He starts to tug at my pants. “I want you to call me Daddy while I fuck you.”
“Oh, my God, no!” I have to stop this. I have to get away. I’ll break the ropes, or I’ll kick him as he’s taking off my pants. I’m going to find a way out of it. I have to. This can’t happen. I’m screaming and sobbing, begging and sweating, and he’s loving it. All of it.
Until the window breaks.
We both freeze, eyes moving to where the glass suddenly burst inward. Could it be? Did he come for me?
A second later, I get my answer. The door flies open, and Knox storms in with another man, one of his brothers. I don’t care who he brought so long as he’s here and he’s saving me. “Knox!” I sob in relief while Dale sputters and curses.
Knox sizes up the situation in a single glance, then throws himself toward the bed and tears Dale off me. Dale hits the floor, his knife skittering across the wood planks. He’s dazed, obviously. I think he might’ve hit his head when Knox launched him.
“Hey, you’re okay. You’re safe now. I’m Ace, Knox’s brother.” Ace unties my wrists, and I work my way to a sitting position while Knox pulls up one of the wooden chairs on the other side of the room. Dale’s fat, but Knox is strong. He puts Dale in the chair with no trouble.
“Here.” Ace gets my attention and drapes his jacket over my shoulders. I must be in shock because I just now realize my tits are out.
“Thank you,” I mutter, but my eyes stay glued on Knox.
He leans in until their noses are almost touching. “I told you, didn’t I? I told you I’d finish the job. But you couldn’t let it go, could you? You couldn’t keep your fucking head down and mind your own fucking life. No.”
He points at me without looking my way. “You had to fuck with what’s mine. Nobody fucks with what’s mine and gets away with it. You hear me?” He slaps Dale upside the head. “Answer me, you fucking prick. You sick son of a bitch.”
“Fuck you,” Dale snarls, which only gets him a backhand. His lip splits again, and fresh blood oozes down over his chin.
“That was the wrong answer, Dale.” Knox laughs when Dale tries to get up from the chair, as if somebody of his size—not to mention age—could outrun a younger, fitter man. Especially one as enraged as the one standing in front of him.
He looks at me, and the pain in his eyes reflects the pain I’m feeling. “What did he do to you?”
“Not much. Yet.” I glare at Dale, remembering what he said. “He was going to rape me and make me call him Daddy.” Ace flinches as he stands next to the bed, and I tuck the jacket closer.
Knox snarls, then turns back to Dale and smashes a fist into his face. “Oh, really? You think it’s okay to rape women? Your own stepdaughter? How sick do you have to be to even think about shit like that?” This time, he punches Dale in the stomach and makes him double over.
“Come on. I should get you out of here.” Ace reaches for me, but I shake my head.
“I want to stay.” I look at Knox, hoping he agrees with me. “Yes. I need to watch this.” The brothers exchange a look.
Knox turns back to Dale. “Fair enough. I guess she deserves to watch this after everything you’ve done to her.”
He then reaches into his back pocket. Dale gasps when he sees the blade protruding from the handle. I don’t gasp, but my eyes do go wide at the sight of it.
He’s going to kill him. He’s actually going to do it.
I want him to. The feeling is so strong, so real. I want him to do it, and I want to watch every second.
Dale’s mouth falls open. “No. No, no, you’re not gonna do this. You’re trying to scare me, is all. Fine. I’ll leave her alone from now on. Okay? Is that what you want?”
“Not anymore, it isn’t.” Knox waves the blade around, and I swear, he’s loving this. I barely recognize his ugly snarl or the sound of his voice. “Now, I want you to suffer. I want you to suffer bad. This is all your fault. You could’ve avoided this.”
He lunges, shoving the knife into Dale’s crotch.
Dale’s shriek is ear-splitting, enough to make me want to cover my ears. But I don’t. I won’t. I want to hear it. I deserve to. I watch as a dark red stain starts to spread over his pants and remember wanting to do that myself.
“That’s what happens when you try to put your dick where it doesn’t belong, you piece of shit.” Knox forces Dale to stay on the chair, bracing him with an arm across Dale’s chest, their foreheads touching. Dale hasn’t stopped screaming, but that doesn’t bother Knox. The blood is starting to run down the inside of Dale’s pants, soaking through, dripping onto the floor.
Knox twists the knife. Dale’s screams turn to howls which soon break when his voice does. All that comes out is gurgling noises. His body starts to twitch and jump as he gasps for air, as his head lolls from side to side and his lips move but nothing comes out. I realize the life is draining from him, that he’s bleeding out. Dying in front of me.
“If you want to say your piece, you better do it now,” Knox tells me, and I can think of only one thing to tell Dale before he dies.
“Rot in hell, asshole.”
And then it’s over. He goes silent, his head falling back. His eyes are open, staring at the ceiling. The cabin is eerily quiet except for the beating of my heart, like a drum in my ears.
Knox takes his knife back and wipes it on the quilt before retracting the blade and putting it in his pocket. “Got what you deserved, fucker.” His eyes find me sitting against the headboard, my arms wrapped around me. Now that it’s over, I’m not sure how to feel. Right now, there’s only relief.
“Let’s get you out of here. But first, get out of my brother’s jacket. There is only one guy’s clothes you’re allowed to wear. Mine.” Smiling, I shrug out of Ace’s jacket and watch Knox pull off his own. He helps me into it, and then we head out of the cabin. I’m leaning against his chest and can feel his heart pounding. I don’t think it’s regret or guilt making that happen, especially when I notice his grim smile.
Ace mutters something into his phone while I get in the back seat of the car, where Knox joins me. I can’t speak. I’m afraid if I do, I might start crying. I know I will.
Not for Dale. For me. For what might’ve happened if Knox had gotten there even a few minutes later than he did.
“I’ve got you.” Knox wraps his arms around me and holds me close, stroking my hair and murmuring soft, comforting things in my ear as Ace gets behind the wheel. I close my eyes and let myself rest now that it’s over. Finally.
