Nearly Broken (31 page)

I turned away, not
believing my eyes. Surely I was mistaken. No, this was
not
going to happen right in front of me. I fearfully turned back. The
moment I realized her head was in his lap, I jerked back, my hand
thrusting to the air to act as a shield, even though my eyes had
already turned away.

“Oh, my God,”
I muttered. His chuckle chilled me to the bone, and I brought my eyes
to my knees, my arms wrapping around my head for extra darkness.

“You’ll
have to forgive us, but she likes it best in the morning.”

With that, I pressed
my hands to my ears. I didn’t want see, hear or even think
about what was going on just a few feet away from me. I tried to
think of a song that I could sing internally, but my mind locked up,
refusing to help as I continually pretended I couldn’t hear him
calling my name. Well, Natalie’s name, actually.

I’m not here,
I told myself.
I’m home. In bed. It’s Saturday morning
and Nick and I are cuddled in bed watching TV.

A strange clicking
noise pulled me out of my trance, but not my hold. My arms suddenly
pulled away from my body, stripping my head of its protection. I
twisted, hearing the metal chain clang as it tightened behind me,
pulling itself into the ceiling. When the chain stopped, I didn’t
even have enough slack to bring my hands back to my head, leaving me
open and vulnerable in so many ways that every muscle inside me
tensed.

“Natalie,”
he called softly, making my eyes wince shut again.

It was difficult, but
I turned my head and slowly peeked my eyes open. Veronica was
vertical in his lap again, currently nibbling on his neck, but her
slip had done a disappearing act. So had his jeans. He watched my
reaction intently, enjoying the discomfort he knew he was causing. He
thumbed a few buttons on the cell phone in his hand.
Of course
the damn pulley was electronic.

“Still think I
have to rape her for sex?” His hand rubbed her back, setting
her in motion, and she began to rock up and down against his body.

Oh, God. Shoot me
now. Please.

I turned away, but
could do nothing to block out the grunts and groans coming off the
pair. I didn’t care what he tried to call it. He trained that
girl. Whether it was the time of day, him sitting in that chair, or a
simple touch of the skin that set her off, it was still rape.
Especially since her poor mind was too far gone to realize the
difference.

“Natalie?”
he called. “Look at me.”

I shook my head
aggressively. I already had images that would be burned in my head
until the day I died.

“I want you to
watch, Natalie. Turn your head.”

Again I shook my head,
not caring if it pissed him off. What was he going to do? Stop
screwing her to find a way to
make
me watch them?

A whole minute went by
before I heard the
snap
. I gasped, all too familiar with the
sound and the searing pain that always accompanied it, and I swung my
head his way. His arm was draped loosely over Veronica’s
shoulder, a blade flipped open in his hand. “Don’t!”
I cried automatically.

Smiling, he whispered
in Veronica’s ear and she slowed down their movement. His gaze
never left mine. “I told you. When I get bored sexually, I cut.
However,
you
and that foul little mouth of yours have turned
me on since I found you. Let me watch you watching us and I’ll
get off without cutting her. Turn away or close your eyes and I’ll
draw blood.”

At some point my mouth
fell open. I didn’t know what to say to that, or what to do.
Like he did with Nick, he was turning my compassion against me. He’d
already figured that out about me. I’d given him a weakness to
play on. Veronica was a complete stranger to me, yet I still couldn’t
allow myself to go against him, to knowingly turn away and allow her
to be cut. Because even with all the drugs his brother used on me, I
could still feel the sting when that knife cut into me. Veronica had
no drugs; at least I didn’t think she did.

My conscience gave me
no choice but to watch. At first, I tried to focus in on the part of
the chair to the left of them. I could still see every bit of
movement, but I wasn’t looking directly at it. But he knew what
I was doing. He snapped his fingers in the air and commanded that I
look him in the eyes for the rest of the game.

What I saw filled me
with emotions I couldn’t explain. I felt violated and I wasn’t
even the one being used. From the moment I was forced to lock eyes,
he became more aggressive with Veronica, throwing her off his lap and
onto the ottoman so he could be on top and get his head entirely too
close to mine. His grunts intensified, his hands knuckled deep on her
shoulders, and his body thrusted harder and harder against hers, so
much that her screams were filled with more pain than pleasure, her
head bouncing around uncontrollably as it hung off the edge of the
ottoman. The intensity of his unrelenting stare made me want to crawl
into myself and hide, because at that very moment, it wasn’t
really Veronica he was fucking so roughly, but me.

After thanking me for
the best sex he’d ever had with Veronica, I snapped at him and
told him to enjoy it, because screwing me in his head was all he’d
ever get out of me. He laughed it off and pulled his jeans back on,
leaving Veronica to recover on the bed while he headed across the
hall to get cleaned up for the day.

I felt so disgustingly
dirty inside.
I have to get out of here before he does that to me!

Now was my chance,
while he was distracted, maybe even getting off in the shower a
little more. I called to Veronica, who I knew was awake, lightly
moaning as she wiggled around in bed.
Please tell me she’s
not reliving that nightmare in her head and enjoying it.

I tried repeatedly to
get her to respond to my voice, but it seemed she only had ears for
his
commands. After she ignored my quiet attempts, I finally
yelled, “HEY!”

She jumped from the
bed in a panic, fearfully looking between me and the door. Back and
forth, back and forth, unsure what to think. “Veronica! Hey! He
told you to let me out so I can go pee! Why haven’t you done it
yet?”

Her head shook
erratically, like she was seriously trying to determine if he’d
ever said such a thing. Thinking she was actually beginning to doubt
herself, I pushed more. “Well? What are you waiting for? Do you
want him to come back here and find me still chained? You’re
disobeying him. Let me out!”

She was clearly
confused, her eyes blinking madly, but she still made her way over to
me. Grabbing my wrists, she fumbled with the locks. She had no idea
where the key was and tried using her fingernails to open it.

“Veronica,”
I said firmly, “go to the kitchen and get a knife.”

She didn’t.
After breaking a nail, she stuck a second one in and tried again.
Realizing my mistake, I amended my wording. “Veronica,
he
said
to just get a knife. Don’t you remember? He lost
the key and he wants you to cut the bindings off of me.”

Finally, she
disappeared out of the room, returning a minute later with a filet
knife.

Oh, shit.
Was I
really going to let this zombie chick near my wrist with a knife that
would slip through my skin as easily as it would through butter? Too
late to think otherwise, she slipped the knife between my skin and
the leather and cut. At least she was coherent enough to cut up and
not down. Within two minutes she had my right hand free. I took the
knife from her and cut my other hand free in just thirty seconds.

I sighed, rubbing my
wrists. “Veronica, he said for you to go about doing your
morning routine.” I wasn’t sure what that entailed, but I
didn’t care. If I got out of here, I could bring help back to
free her.

I sneaked down the
hallway, hearing the distant sound of water as I passed the next
door. I rushed down the stairs, and when I got to the front, I was
ready to slam my head against the steel door. Same freaking
electronic keypad system his brother had. My second instinct was to
break the glass in a window, even though there were bars on the
outside. If someone was close enough to the property line, they might
hear me scream. I picked up one of the wooden dining chairs and swung
against the window with all my might. But all it did was bounce back.

You’ve got to
be fucking kidding me.

I scanned the tables
in the dining and adjoining living room, desperately seeking
something small with substantial weight, but there wasn’t
really anything decorative in his house, especially nothing that
would have the power to smash a window. “Guess I’m stuck
with fire again,” I muttered to myself. Running to the kitchen,
I spun until I saw the stove. Groaning over the fact that he had a
ceramic flat top that wasn’t going to catch anything on fire
anytime soon, I began yanking drawers open, seeking something that
could strike a fire.

“Natalie.”
I startled when I heard his voice, my breath quickening, my heart
pounding so loud it echoed in my ears, and I quickly spun to face
him, keeping my hands hidden behind my back. “A few things you
should know about my home.” He rubbed the top of his wet head
with a hand towel. His gray t-shirt was damp in places, showing he
had dressed in a hurry, so I already knew what one of those things
would be. “One. Each room has at least one hidden camera.”

Yep, I figured cameras
were to blame for him finding me so quickly.

“And two,”
he continued, throwing down the towel as he stalked me, and me being
trapped in the corner of the kitchen, I had nowhere to flee. But he
stopped two steps in, eyeing me curiously. “Show me your
hands,” his deep voice commanded.

My heart pounded even
harder inside my chest, my hand gripping the filet knife tighter.
When I didn’t answer, his attention drifted to the knife block.
Obviously, there was one missing. Part of me screamed inside, wanting
me to stab him, but the other part of me knew that was incredibly
stupid. He wasn’t close enough. And though I had managed to get
the jump on his brother, I wasn’t going to here. There was way
too much distance between us to get in a shot before he reacted. And
no way would I win in a physical struggle if he wasn’t injured
beforehand.

“What do you
think you’re going to do with that?” he asked, reaching
behind his body, pulling out his gun, rotating his wrist so I could
take in its every curvature. “You know that old saying, don’t
bring a knife to a gun fight? Drop it on the floor.”

Reluctantly, I did,
and it fell beside my feet.

“Kick it to me,
slowly.”

I did it incredibly
slowly, trying to recall if there was anything in the drawer behind
me that could be used as a weapon, but the only thing with a point
was a pen. Even if I got it to break skin, all I’d achieve is
seriously pissing off a man with a gun and a grudge.

Guess he wasn’t
going to risk bending over to pick it up, because he simply kicked it
to the corner of the kitchen farthest from me, then continued moving
towards me again. Standing before me, with a good six inches on me,
his arm reached between my arm and my hip and pushed the drawer
closed. “You’re not going to find anything to start a
fire within this house. I even had the gas stove replaced with an
electric. You see, I’ve learned from my brother’s
mistakes. Non-breakable windows, bullet-proof even. There are no
matches, no lighters, no flammables or anything else of questionable
nature, that’s not under lock and key. Even the chemicals in
this house are non-toxic, just in case you’re considering
poison for something in the future.”

That just…sucked.
And was going to make getting out of here really difficult.

He leaned forward and
reached around me, entrapping me, gripping the edge of the granite
counter tops. All I could do was lean back too, my own hands grasping
the counters to steady me. I was waiting for him to snap or yell or
hit me or
something
.

In that eerily calm
voice of his, he asked, “How did you get loose?”

My jaw opened several
times, debating what I should say.

“Did Veronica
let you out?”

I nodded weakly, still
afraid to speak, in fear he was about to unleash something nasty on
me, like the calm before the storm.

As if she heard her
name, Veronica entered the kitchen. She was dressed in a clean yellow
slip and moved around the kitchen pulling groceries for breakfast,
completely oblivious to the tension in the room.

“How?” he
pushed.

Whispering, I
answered, “I told her to get a knife.”

“
You
told
her?
And she did it?” Now he was pissed. He didn’t
even wait for an answer. He pushed off the counter and used the
momentum to turn himself towards Veronica, who had just closed the
refrigerator, pulling out a container of eggs and a package of bacon.
He moved so quickly there was no way to warn her, the power of the
gun across her face so violent she collapsed to the floor
unconscious, cracked eggs scattering across the floor.