Defaced: A Dark Romance Novel (18 page)

Twenty-three

It was happening
again.

Lily had hoped her days of being abducted were over, but it seemed that wasn’t the case. The men had grabbed her, laughing as she kicked at them when they took hold of her ankles and yanked her off her feet. She’d tried to hit out with fists and elbows, but a cold muzzle against her temple had instantly made her fall still. The image of Marianna, dead and lying in a pool of her own blood, was still at the front of her mind, and she didn’t want to be the next casualty.

The men carried her from the house. It was nighttime, and an endless stretch of stars flooded the sky above her. Their vehicles had been left on the outskirts of the property, beyond the line of pine trees. She tried not to look at the fallen bodies of the men on the outside of the wall as they passed by.

They carried her to a large SUV and threw her into the trunk. They hadn’t bound her, and at first she wondered why, but then one of the men climbed into the back seat and leaned over the back, and pointed his gun at her. The sight of the weapon was terrifying. She had no doubt these men would use it. Aiming the gun at her head wasn’t an idle threat.

Where were Monster and the rest of his men? Were
they all dead?

The thought terrified her. If that was the case, she was being taken by these men to live the sort of life Marianna had told her about—the same one she’d run from, only to end up murdered at the bottom of the stairs ten years later. At least she’d had those ten years of relative peace. Lily didn’t even want to think about what her future might hold for her now. The terror working its way through her veins was even greater than what she’d experienced when she’d first been kidnapped. At least then she’d had some hope of rescue. Now she knew such hopes were futile. Once she disappeared into this system, she’d only ever turn up dead.

The SUV was joined by another vehicle, the headlights lighting up the road leading from the property and the pine forests on either side. This was the farthest she’d been from Monster’s house in over two months.

The vehicles followed a bumpy road, the SUV bouncing and jolting over every lump and pothole. The man holding the gun glanced between her and the windows, keeping an eye out, she assumed, for anyone who might be coming after them.

Within fifteen minutes, they pulled up at a massive wrought iron gate. Walls, similar to those surrounding Monster’s property, only not as tall or topped with barbed wire, stretched to either side.

A phone call by the man in the passenger seat had the gate rolling open, and the vehicles drove up to the premises beyond.

The SUV came to a halt, and the engines switched off. The trunk opened, and another man with a gun jerked the barrel toward her. “Come on, bitch. Get up.”

With no other choice, she did as she was told and climbed out, her feet hitting gravel.

The man shoved her in the back, pushing her forward. “Hurry up. The bosses are waiting for you.”

She didn’t want to cry. She needed to be strong in this situation, though it wasn’t looking good. No one would rescue her now. If all Monster’s men had been killed, there was no one to come after her. She’d not yet finished her treatments on Monster’s face, and he wouldn’t leave the house, especially not for her.

The property was of a similar style to Monster’s, only not as well maintained. White paint peeled from the walls, and a number of floor tiles were chipped and cracked. She wasn’t given time to take in much more as she was pushed and shoved toward a room at the back of the house. A set of double, dark wood doors barred her way, but someone stepped ahead and opened them, and then pushed her through. She stumbled and fell to her knees, landing heavily. Her hair hung over her face, and she bit back tears as her knees and palms smarted from the fall.

Laughter made her look up.

“What have we got here? A white girl?”

She lifted her head to see two men standing before her, both with the same complexions as the men who had taken her. One of the men appeared younger than the other, and was shorter, though they looked similar, with the same wide-set oval eyes and flared noses.

Quickly, she assessed the rest of her surroundings. Positioned at the back of the room were two identical mahogany desks. Beneath her hands and knees stretched dark floors, and large, expensive looking oil paintings in ornate gold frames hung on the walls. Thick floor to ceiling drapes decorated the tall windows.

While the room was filled with luxuries, that was where any hint toward class ended. Empty bottles of spirits lay on the floor, and trash spilled from the cans beside the desks. Plus, she wasn’t the only woman in the room. Two girls sprawled on a couple of couches on the other side of the space. They wore only cheap nylon underwear and appeared high as they watched her through heavy lidded eyes.

The man who had brought her into the room spoke. “We took her from the freak’s house. She seemed important to him, though we’re not sure why.”

The younger of the two men approached her. He reached down and grabbed her jaw, forcing her to look up at him. “Hmm, an expensive whore, no doubt.”

She wanted to tell him she wasn’t a whore, but what was the point? He released her face, and she looked back down at the floor.

“And what of the freak?” the older man asked. “He’s dead, I hope.”

“Yes. He was buried in the explosion.”

Lily’s heart clenched with pain.
No, please don’t let it be true,
she cried in her head. If Monster was dead, then all was lost. She’d lost him, and now she’d be lost to these men. They’d do whatever they wanted with her, and if she was lucky, they’d kill her soon after.

The man standing over her jabbed her with a foot clad in expensive Italian leather. “So what do you think of that, whore? Your master is dead.”

She pressed her lips together, trying to hold back the retorts wanting to burst from her mouth.

He laughed. “I expect you’re pleased. I can’t imagine what sort of a freak you’ve been fucking. What’s wrong with him, huh? Does he have two heads? Or weird mutant arms?” He grabbed at his crotch and pushed it in her face. “Now you get to pleasure a real man.”

She couldn’t help herself any longer. “Get that out of my face before I bite it off.”

The man froze, fury flashing across his expression. Sudden pain seared through her cheek and she fell backward onto the floor. He’d slapped her, and hard.

“Don’t talk back to me, bitch. If I tell you to suck my cock, then you suck it. And you’ll do it with a fucking gun to your head if you even attempt to put your teeth on me.”

He began to work on his belt buckle, and dread clawed its way up her throat like vomit.

The older man looked toward the men who had brought her in. “Get out of here. My brother and I want a little privacy with the lady.” He turned to the women on the couches. “You, too. Get the hell out of here.”

The girls gave each other a glance and a bored shrug, grabbed a couple of items of clothing, and sauntered from the room. The men nodded and retreated as well, pulling the dark wooden doors shut behind them as they left.

Lily flipped herself onto her stomach and clambered to her feet, planning on running for the closed doors.

“Where the hell do you think you’re going?”

She tried to run, but a fist punched her in the lower back, right by her kidney, and she fell forward again, crying out as she did so. She hit the floor, and a moment later one of those expensive Italian shoes connected with her stomach. She let out a gasp of pain and curled into a ball, hoping to protect herself from further blows.

“That’s okay,” said the older brother. “We like it when you struggle. Makes things even more interesting.”

“Fuck you,” she spat, uncurling enough to meet his eye, and was rewarded with a punch to the face, the knuckles glancing off her cheekbone. White-hot pain exploded behind her eye and she shrieked, her hand clutching her face. A second blow smashed into her left ear and her head recoiled at the impact, her ear feeling as though it was on fire.

But her worries about her face were quickly forgotten when hands began to tug at the waistband of her pants.

“No!” she screamed, kicking out with her bare feet. She caught the older of the two men in the jaw, and he reared back, giving a yell of surprise. He turned on her, hatred and fury in his black eyes.

“Pin down her arms,” he told her brother.

The other man curled his upper lip. “So you get to fuck her first?”

“Just do as you’re told. This little whore needs to learn a lesson in pleasuring a man. I’ll take one hole, you take the other. The bitch has got enough of them and we’ll fill every one before the end of the night.”

“Don’t you fucking touch me,” she screeched, fighting for all she was worth. She kicked, and bucked, and flailed with her arms, but other than catching the men a couple of light blows, she could do no damage.

“Keep still, bitch,” the older brother said as he grappled at her thighs. He managed to get hold of the button of her pants and he tore it open, and then ripped the material down her legs, the friction burning her thighs. The other brother had hold of her arms and pinned them to the floor above her head. She wriggled and squirmed, trying to break free, but all she succeeded in doing was thrusting her breasts and crotch out toward the men, and she could tell by the dark, hooded lust in their eyes that her struggles were turning them on.

The older brother managed to yank her pants off her feet, though thankfully had left her underwear in place. Even so, she felt horribly exposed, and even more so when he unzipped himself and pulled his semi-erect dick from his fly.

“Oh, God,” she choked. She didn’t even want to look at it, the sight causing waves of hot and cold nausea to wash over her body. He was going to rape her, and it wouldn’t just be once either. They’d take her again and again, however they wanted, until they destroyed her.

The older brother got to his knees and crawled up her legs. He reached out and grabbed between her thighs, his hard fingers pushing against her most intimate parts. Only the material of her panties prevented him from thrusting his fingers inside her. She recoiled and fought against him, kicking out. He grabbed her thighs and used his knees to pin them down.

The younger brother still had hold of her arms, but he bunched her wrists into one of his hands, and then reached over the top of her to grope her breast.

“Hey, she’s got good tits,” he said to his brother. “Fat and juicy.”

The other man laughed. “Fat and juicy, just like her cunt.”

He squeezed her nipple painfully and she howled and twisted her face away, not wanting to have to watch them molest her. The position of her head brought her face directly in line with the brother’s inner arm. Not thinking, just reacting, she lunged forward and sank her teeth into his flesh.

Instantly, the hand was off her breast and then her arms were free. The man howled in pain, and the copper taste of blood filled her mouth. A chunk of flesh hung free from his arm.

“What the fuck?” said the older brother, his hand withdrawing from her underwear.

With her hands free and her legs still pinned down, Lily had only one choice.

Hit him where it hurt.

Though she didn’t want to go anywhere near the semi-erect member hanging between his legs, she sat up, balled her hand into a fist, and punched him as hard as she could in the balls.

A second howl of pain filled the room as the man fell back from her body, but it was drowned out by the sound of distant gunshots.

Lily froze and turned toward the noise.

What the hell now?

She heard more gunshots and the sound of men shouting. They seemed to be getting nearer. The two brothers were tending their wounds, the older one still rolling on the floor and clutching between his legs, the younger one trying to stem the bleeding from the wound she’d given him.

The shouts sounded loud—right outside the door—and Lily cowered.

Suddenly, the door burst open and Monster stood, a gun in each hand, and two dead men at his feet. His eyes flicked to Lily and she saw the horror on his face, which then quickly morphed to anger.

Both brothers scrabbled for their weapons, but they weren’t quick enough. Monster raised an arm and shot the younger brother in the center of the forehead. He slumped to the ground, his damaged arm no longer a problem. The older brother had recovered from the punch in the balls and was scrambling for his desk, but Monster didn’t let him reach it. He lifted the gun in the other hand and shot him twice—once between his shoulder blades, and again in the back of the head. The man fell to the floor, twitched, and then moved no more.

“Fucking hell, Flower!” Monster put both guns into the waistband of his pants. He ran to her and dropped to his knees beside her, pulling her into his arms. “Did they hurt you?”

“I thought you were dead,” she sobbed, not answering his question. She was so relieved to see him. She’d never been happier to see someone in her entire life. “They told me you were dead.”

“No, I’m fine. Jesus Christ, did they rape you—those fucking sons of bitches!”