Page 41 of Blade
I manage to scratch his face, and he roars out, pulls my head back off the wall, and then slams it forward, dizziness hits me, and bile builds.
I quickly put my hands flat against the wall, unable to hold my own weight on my two feet as black dots lace my vision.
Brock grunts, and he thrusts harder and lets go of my head to grip my hip while he burns me with his other hand, but I don’t move, unable to, already feeling blood dripping between my legs and down my face, my body feeling nothing but pain.
I’ve given up.
I don’t move, even as Brock groans and finishes, pushing himself deep inside me as he presses another burn on my hip and stays deep routed for a few minutes until chatter can be heard at the mouth of the alleyway. He pulls out quickly, dropping my skirt, and I stay completely still.
“I’m only going to tell you this once, treasure,” he huffs as I hear the clinks of his belt being done up. “Next time you let that Dark Angel fucker touch you, I’ll burn his fucking club to the ground and kill every fucking member. I’ve already got people wrecking his businesses, so it won’t be much bother to destroy his home, too. Do I make myself clear?”
I blink, my tears falling, my voice unable to work, and he grabs my hair again, pulls my head back before slamming it back against the wall, making me cry out, and he sneers in my ear, “I said do I fucking make myself clear?” I nod a little, and he murmurs, “Good, get ready, treasure, because next week, my plan will come into place, and you’ll be wearing my fucking patch!”
That said, he shoves off me and walks away and I know without a doubt, he’s either going to lie to my brother. A brother I haven’t heard a peep from in months, that we’ve been seeing each other in secret and that I’m so madly in love with him I’ve branded his road name letter on my hip or he’s going to try and kill him and start a coup in the club. Yet, I can’t bring myself to pick up the phone and tell him because deep down, I know he won’t believe me anyhow.
Brock has always hated the level of respect and power my brother held within the club and hated that he was the next president.
Tears fall as I slowly turn around and slide my way down the wall Brock held me against as I hear his bike roar off down the road, his threats clear as day in my head, and I try to keep in my sobs, feeling so hopeless, so alone as students walk past unaware of my horror, the same horror I went through that day Skylar stopped and I lied to Leo about.
“You don’t know who you are messing with, little girl,” Brock threatens as he keeps the grip of my hair in his first. The woman who has just interrupted him from forcing himself down my throat chuckles as she drops the brick before I hear the sudden click of a safety clip being let off, and Brock tenses.
“Actually, dickhead, you don’t know who you are dealing with!” the woman says coldly. “You have five seconds to leave before I kill you, and don’t think I won’t because I will. You’re not the first,” she finishes, and Brock’s hand releases his gripbefore he shoves me to the floor and murmurs, “For this, your punishment will be worse.”
With one last lip curl at the woman, Brock storms away, but the woman doesn’t move. She keeps her gun pointed at the mouth of the alleyway until she hears the pipes of his bike roaring off. She quickly rushes over to me, puts the safety clip back on, and kneels before me. My tears fall as she cups my cheek, her dark blue eyes showing concern.
I didn’t want to lie to Leo when he told me his sister's name, but how do you say to the man you’ve fallen madly in love with that his sister held a gun at the VP of the Furies after she attacked him to stop him from assaulting me in this very spot?
I begged her not to say anything when Brock sneered at her and walked away, promising me with his eyes that it wasn’t over, which it wasn’t. He just hurt me worse that night, cracking a rib.
Skylar promised but tried to encourage me to get help and to tell my brother, knowing who he was. But again, how do you tell someone that your family didn’t believe a thirteen-year-old, so they most likely wouldn’t believe the adult now?
I choke back a sob, suddenly feeling like I’ve just cheated even though I didn’t, and I slowly get up, in between my legs aching and wet and I know it isn’t just blood, that he was unprotected yet again.
“I’ll have to visit the pharmacy again,” I mutter angrily as I wipe away my tears but wince at the scrape down the side of my face.
I need to see Leo, tell him what Brock said, and hopefully, he’ll at least believe me. I mean, I need to clean up first, but Leo deserves to know what is happening to his properties and why. He’ll hate me for it, but at least he’ll be able to fix it.
My tears fall faster, knowing I’m about to lose the only good thing in my life, but I, again, quickly wipe them away, but thistime gentler with my face and grab my bag that I dropped in the scuffle, wincing from the pain, but I push through.
I chew on my bottom lip as I eye the clubhouse and climb out of my car, leaving it on the side of the road.
I don’t see the point in driving inside when I know he’ll kick me out anyhow. According to Brock, Leo’s businesses have been hit because of me.
I look at my car for a moment.
It’s crammed full, and the new plates I’ve had for a while are in the trunk.
I’m ready to leave. This right now is going to be essentially a goodbye. I cleaned up, changed into sweats with Leo’s shirt underneath my hoodie, and slapped on makeup to hide the new cuts and bruises. I just couldn’t leave without telling Leo some parts.
He doesn’t need to know I’ve been raped for seven years of my life and that I was too weak to kill my rapist and then myself before his businesses were affected, he just needs to know the basics, and then I’ll disappear forever.
“Keep walking, miss,” the prospect says as I stop near the gate, and I clear my throat and ask, “Could you uh call L– I uh mean Blade down to the gate, tell him it’s Luna.”
The guy with ginger hair frowns but gets his phone, and instead of calling, he sends a message. A couple of minutes later, I hear a woman shout, “You are not going down there!”before Leo appears, walking my way in his usual tank, cut, and jeans. His face is cold and impassive, making me swallow hard while his mother tries to intercept him.
Does he know I’m dirty?
Does he know about what Brock told me already?
