Chapter 148 - ONE HUNDRED AND FORTY EIGHT

Chapter 148: Chapter ONE HUNDRED AND FORTY EIGHT

ANGEL

"Found you."

Two words. That’s all it took to stop my heart.

Damien stood in the doorway of the destroyed closet, still grinning like the devil had just handed him a gift.

"Now, what do we have here? Hmm?" He cocked his head, surveying the destruction around us.

I opened my mouth to beg, to plead for mercy. His rough hand closed around my arm and he dragged me out.

"I’m sorry!" I screamed. Fought. Clawed at his grip with everything I had, which turned out to be absolutely fucking nothing against a man twice my size who worked out like violence was a hobby. He hauled me out of the closet like a ragdoll, into the main room.

"Please!" The sob tore out of me. "Please, Damien, I’m sorry, I’m sorry—please don’t hurt me please—I was just so scared and I..."

He slammed me against the wall. My head cracked against the tile and stars exploded across my vision.

"I gave you a chance to obey." He hissed, his face inches from mine. Thunderous. "I gave you rules. Simple rules. Stay in the room. Wait for Daddy. Don’t. Fucking. Run." Each word was punctuated by a slight shake, rattling my already scrambled brain. "And what did you do, Angel?"

"I’m sorry," I choked out. My teeth were chattering so hard I could barely form words. "I’m s-sorry, I panicked, I didn’t—I wasn’t thinking—"

"No," he agreed pleasantly, mimicking my shrill tone, "You weren’t. Thinking has never been your strong suit, has it? That’s okay. That’s what Daddy’s here for. To think for you. To make decisions for you." His thumb stroked across my cheekbone, wiping away a tear with a tenderness that made my stomach turn. "This is what happens when you try to do it yourself."

He released my arm and I slid down the wall, my legs giving out beneath me. The tile was cold against my bare thighs where the paper gown had ridden up, and I could feel the chill seeping into my bones, mixing with the ice already there.

He stood over me, looking down with that tilted-head curiosity, like a cat studying a mouse it was about to disembowel. "Guess what I’m going to do to you now."

I shook my head frantically, tears streaming down my face. "Please. Please, Damien. I’ll do anything. I’ll be good. I’ll—"

"Here’s what I’m thinking." He crouched down to my level, his eyes possessing that crazed gleam I’d come to know too well, "You get to choose. Isn’t that generous of me? I’m giving you options. Daddy’s a fair man."

He wasn’t. He was the least fair person I’d ever met. But I didn’t possess the courage to say that out loud.

He held up one finger. "Option one: we go to that nice examination room down the hall, and the doctor uses the proper medical instruments. Over in minutes." He scoffed at my frantic shake of head. "You’ll suffer a little cramping afterward, maybe some bleeding, but nothing you can’t handle. I’ll even hold your hand if you want."

My stomach heaved. I could taste bile at the back of my throat.

He held up a second finger. "Option two: I fuck it out of you myself. Right here on the floor." He smiled, bright and terrifying, pearly white teeth gleaming in the hospital light. "Again and again and again until there’s nothing left. Just you and me and a whole lot of mess. The janitorial staff will hate me, but that’s their problem."

I couldn’t breathe.

"I have to warn you, though—option two might take a while. I’ve got excellent stamina." His smile spread like he was already contemplating it.

I threw myself at his legs.

My arms wrapped around his thighs, my face pressed against his knees, my whole body shaking so violently I could barely hold on. I wasn’t thinking anymore. Incoilf only beg, the way you beg death when it’s standing over you with a scythe.

"Please please please please don’t, I’ll do anything, anything you want, I’ll never run again, I’ll be good, I’ll be so good, please Daddy please—"

"Tsk tsk tsk." He clicked his tongue against his teeth, a sound of mock disappointment. "You said so earlier too, but here we are. Promises, promises. They don’t mean much coming from you, do they?"

His hand came down on my head, stroking my strands, his fingers gentle. Deceptively. I knew those fingers. Knew what they could do. They’d stroked my hair just like this while I screamed, while I cried, while I begged him to stop.

They never stopped when I asked.

"I take it option two doesn’t appeal to you?" He asked, curiosity in his voice. As though he was conducting a survey where my preferences actually mattered. "The fucking-it-out-of-you option? No? Not a fan?" He clicked his tongue again. "Pity. I was kind of looking forward to that one. It would help us feel connected when it’s done, you know? Physically. Emotionally. Spiritually. And you won’t have to go through it alone, if be inside you the whole time,"

I couldn’t breathe. My lungs were seizing, refusing to work properly. I thought I understood the extent of Damien’s depravity, until now.

"Angel." His voice sharpened. "Angel, look at me." His fingers paused mid-stroke.

I couldn’t. There was nothing I could do except cling to his legs and hyperventilate against his thighs, my tears soaking through the fabric of his pants.

"You’re okay." He grabbed a fistful of my hair and yanked my head back, forcing me to meet his eyes. Grey and absolutely insane. "Breathe. Slowly. In through your nose. Do it now, Angel. I’m not asking."

I tried and choked on it, sobbing even harder.

"Shh." The word was soft now, almost gentle. He released my hair and cupped my face instead, thumbs stroking across my tear-streaked cheeks with a tenderness that didn’t match anything else about this situation. "Shh, baby girl. Calm down. You need to calm down so Daddy can think about how to punish you. I can’t make important decisions with you hyperventilating all over my pants."

Another sob escaped. I couldn’t help it.

His grip tightened on my face. Not painful yet. Warning. "What did I just say?" The edge in his voice was back, sharp enough to cut. "Didn’t I just tell you to be calm? Is that so hard? Being calm? It’s one instruction, Angel. One very simple instruction. Even a dog can follow one instruction."

I swallowed hard, trying to stop crying. Failed miserably.

"I c-can’t," I whispered. "I’m trying—I’m trying but I c-can’t stop—"