The landing is excruciating. It knocks the wind out of me, my muscles seizing up in agony as I land hard on my back in the cold sand. Before I can even recover, the hood is ripped from my head and I’m met with a cold pair of obsidian eyes staring down at me.
“Calm the fuck down, we’re just here to have a little chat,” Raf barks ominously, twisting the fabric hood in his hands until his knuckles turn white. He stares at me for a long moment, dark eyes burning into mine, then he suddenly lifts his gaze, nodding to one of his friends.
Ford approaches from my other side, crouching down in the sand beside my prone body. “Let me show you a little movie we made,” he croons, licking his lips as he lifts his phone in front of my face and hits play.
“Please!”
I freeze as I hear my voice coming through the speaker, eyes glazing over as they focus on the image splashed across thescreen. It’s a video of me spread out on the pool table in the loft, Wes’ head buried between my thighs as I shatter.
It’s like a slow-motion car crash– I’m so horrified that I can’t look away as I watch the video play, the clips and audio spliced together to make it seem like I was a willing participant in my assault.
“I think the little slut wants some cock now, don’t you?”
“Please!”
“Open wide, sweetheart…”
“Shit, she’s loving this!”
My pleas for them to stop have been twisted to sound like I’m begging for them to continue… or am I remembering that wrong? My mind is so knotted up that I suddenly can’t separate fact from fiction.
I didn’t want it. Ididn’t…
The sound of my wanton moan as I crest my climax is what does me in, my stomach flip-flopping and bile surging up my throat. Ford must be able to tell that I’m about to hurl, because he pulls the gag out of my mouth at the last second. I fling my head sideways, puking all over Raf’s shoes.
He jumps back in disgust, muttering a string of curses under his breath as I curl sideways and vomit the contents of my stomach onto the sand. It admittedly isn’t much– I was too nervous to run into the Kings, so I skipped dinner tonight. My belly was rumbling in protest when I fell asleep.
When there’s nothing left in me to come up, I pull myself into a sitting position, wiping my mouth off on the backs of my bound hands. Dragging in a few deep breaths, I grapple for some semblance of composure as my thoughts spins out of control.
They filmed me. They made it look like I enjoyed it.
Raf steps closer to me again, kicking the toe of a shoe against my thigh to get my attention. I snap my head up, glaring at him as soon as our gazes meet.
“What are you gonna do with that?” I demand, trying to sound a whole lot more confident than I feel right now. It doesn’t work– my voice barely comes out as more than a hoarse whisper.
The corner of Raf’s mouth kicks up in amusement and he slowly lowers into a squat, putting us at eye level. “What we do with that video depends entirely on you.”
My throat bobs with a harsh swallow.So it’s blackmail.
“You can’t…”
“First things first,” Ford interrupts loudly. I whip my head around to meet his chilling stare as he continues. “You don’t tell a King what he can or can’t do, Ava baby. Obviously we weren’t clear enough about that last night.” He flashes a sinister smile, the shadows clinging to the dark ink crawling up his neck and framing his sharp jawline, making him look like a disembodied ghoul. “Do you understand?”
Tears slide down my cheeks as I nod my head weakly.How long have I been crying?
I flinch when Ford suddenly brandishes a pocketknife, leaning toward me and grabbing hold of my bound wrists. I don’t move, don’t breathe as he slides the blade between my hands, slicing upwards to sever the zip-tie binding them. I let out a loud exhale as it falls away, immediately tucking my hands into my chest and rubbing at the tender skin of my wrists.
“Don’t seem so surprised about the video,” Wes mumbles as he steps into view. For some reason, seeing him hurts the most, the metaphorical knife in my gut twisting. “How do you think we maintain control of this place?” he asks, cocking his head in question, his gray eyes cold and vacant. “Leverage is valuable.”
My mind immediately resumes its racing, piecing together the scraps of information I’ve garnered since I first crossed paths with these boys.
Is this why Richelle hates them?
Do they do this to every girl on campus?
Shit, I think I’m gonna be sick again...
“Is it starting to sink in?” Ford asks, still smiling cruelly as he folds his knife and tucks it away in his pocket.
