I don’t knowhow long I’ve been strung up here like this, the leather straps cutting into my wrists, my shoulders burning in agony. I stopped shivering from the cold a while ago, but I’m still shaking as I nervously wait for the first wave of people to find me. The Halloween party is in full swing, shouts and screams echoing off the walls, getting closer with each breathless moment. Music is pumping somewhere in the distance, the bass beat rattling the floor, vibrating up the wall I’m pinned against to my bare skin. Apparently I’m supposed to look like a willing participant in this sick horror show, but I’m just drowning under the crushing weight of regret.
Footsteps draw closer, a rush of co-eds stampeding through the makeshift hallways, their voices growing louder. It won’t be long until they find me like this, strung up on display and covered in derogatory slurs. This isn’t a haunted house, it’s a fucking torture chamber, and my heart is beating so hard it feels like it’s going to give out.
The first people rush into the room, loud and breathless, their eyes going wide when they look over and see me. My firstinstinct is to shrink into a ball and hide, but all I can do is hang my head, letting my hair fall around my face to cover my shame.
“Holy shit, is that a real girl?”
“She’s naked! Look at her!”
“Oh fuck, is that the Doll?”
Their eyes are all over me, eating up every inch of my marked-up skin.
“No wonder they made us turn in our phones,” some guy snorts, chuckling to himself. “I’d give anything to take a picture of that right now.”
They laugh, and I bite back tears, hating Raf even more than I thought possible. By the time the assholes finally move on, my whole body is shaking with anger and humiliation. I hate this place, these people, this life I’ve been shoved into.
New footsteps. New voices. I brace myself, each breath a gasp, my arms numb and useless. They snicker to one another, then scamper away to move onto the next spectacle, another group entering right after them. I hear them react as they take in the sight of me, and it hits me all over again how completely exposed I am.
“She’s hot.”
My stomach twists.
“Like those porn bondage chicks.”
“Nice tits, sweetheart.”
“Eh, they could be bigger.”
“What’d you just say about my girl, dipshit?” Ford growls, stepping out of the shadows like a phantom. He whips open his butterfly knife, flipping it around with practiced precision. “Get the fuck out of here or I’ll give you a free appendectomy.”
I lift my head just in time to see the color drain from the dude’s face, he and his friends running for their damn lives, disappearing around the corner and leaving me alone with Ford.
He flicks the blade closed with a sharp snap, leaning a shoulder against the wall beside me as his lips tip into a smirk. “Hey there, Ava baby.”
I stare back at him with wide, hopeful eyes, feeling a pitiful sob choke in my throat.
“Believe it or not, I actually tried to talk Raf out of this,” he mutters, raking a hand through his hair. He’s not wearing a costume, but he’s intimidating enough to look at without one.
“Then why…” I start to ask, my voice is small and desperate. “Will you let me go?”
Ford gives me a look that’s almost pitying, jerking his chin sideways. “No can do, Ava baby.”
Fresh tears sting my eyes, carving a hot path against my cold cheeks. “I can’t do this, Ford,” I whimper, lower lip wobbling. “I can’t.”
He tilts his head as he looks me up and down, like I’m a painting he’s deciding whether to hang or throw out. “Sure you can,” he replies with a nod, stepping in front of me and bracketing my face with his hands. He leans in close, tongue darting out to lick the tears from my cheeks.
It’s so bizarre when he does that, but right now, it’s also oddly comforting.
“Own it,” he states, pulling back to stare into my eyes. “Nobody will know this is a punishment unless you show them that it is.”
My brows draw in, mind struggling to grasp ahold of whatever advice he’s trying to impart. “Own it?”
He shrugs a shoulder. “Act like it’s part of the show. That’s what this is, right? Your big performance.”
His fingertips coast over my skin as he runs them up the front of my body, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake. I can’t tell if I’m shivering from the cold or from the way he touches me. Ford sweeps my hair over my breasts, coveringthem just enough to be decent. Then he takes a step back to give me a once-over, and I don’t know whether to scream at him or thank him.
I don’t have a chance to do either, because Wes comes storming in like a demon, face contorting with rage when he sees the way I’m strung up on display. “What the hell?” he roars, gray eyes blazing as rushes toward me. “The fuck is going on here?!”
