One
Magnolia
Fifteen years ago
Cold showers in the dark are a giant pain in the ass, I thought as I shut the tap off as quickly as I could, but it wasn’t quick enough to stop the chill from rippling across my skin as I reached for the towel hanging over the rod.
A thump came from somewhere downstairs, and I froze.
Since all the other girls left last night before the hurricane hit—when they realized we’d be out of business for at least a few days, if not longer—I’d been hearing noises I’d never heard in the house before. Probably because it got its bones rattled good with those terrifying howling winds.
You should’ve left with them, Ho-It-All whispered, but I brushed off the voice in my head that wouldn’t shut up. This was my house now, and I wouldn’t let anything happen to it, hurricane or no. We made it through, but I knew what looters could do to a place, and it wasn’t pretty.
I listened for another sound, but there was nothing but silence.
See? Just my imagination.
I dried off with record speed, wondering why I’d waited until dark to shower anyway. Oh, wait. It was because without power and A/C, it was hot as balls, and I’d sweated my ass off all day until even I didn’t want to smell myself anymore. Still, note to self, I’d shower during daylight tomorrow.
I left the bathroom with the towel wrapped around me and the candle in my hand, only making it a few steps before I saw dark, shadowy forms coming up the stairs.
“What the hell are you doing in here? Get the fuck out of my house!” I screamed as I made a break for the bedroom—where I’d left my sawed-off shotgun.
“Fuck! Get her!”
Reaching the bedroom door, I tried to slam it behind me, but it bounced off someone or something before flinging open again and whacking the wall.
Five more steps. Three more.
I reached for the shotgun but someone tackled me from behind, and I landed facedown on the floor beneath the heavy weight of a man. My fight-or-flight reflex kicked in and I went fucking crazy, throwing elbows and trying to kick him off.
I’d been in this world long enough to understand nothing good was going to happen if I didn’t get him off me and get to my gun. Men took a woman a lot more fucking seriously with a double-barrel pointed at their chest.
My heart hammered as my elbow connected, and he grunted.
“Fucking bitch! Gonna make you pay for that.”
The stench of stale cigarettes and rot-gut whiskey assaulted my nose.
Oh fuck. Oh fuck. Stay calm and fight like hell. Ain’t nobody making me pay. Especially not some looter.
I kept fighting, swinging and flailing, praying I’d land a blow somewhere vital, but he grabbed my hair and yanked my head up before smashing my face against the wood floor.
Sparks flashed in my vision, and my cheekbone throbbed like I’d just been hit with a brick.
Fucking hell.
“Let me go! Help!” I started screaming, because what the fuck else was I going to do with what felt like a three-hundred-pound gorilla on my back?
“Shut the fuck up.” He grabbed the wet hair at the back of my head again, smashing me repeatedly against the floor until I tasted the metallic bitterness of blood.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
Screaming failed, and words wouldn’t come out. My brain and my body were disconnecting like the out-of-service phone lines after the hurricane.
Stay. Conscious. Stay. Alive.
I couldn’t pass out. Unconscious meant defenseless, and I was anything but. I was a fighter. I was a warrior. And I was no one’s victim.
My head lolled as he flipped me over, and my towel fell away, exposing my naked body to the thick, humid air. In the pitch dark, I couldn’t see his face, but I could feel him . . . everywhere.
“Get off me!” My screams weren’t as loud this time, but I was trying.
“Shut the fucking cunt up. Jesus Christ. Everyone within six blocks had to hear her scream.”
It was the other man, his form barely visible in the hallway. Of course, there was hot blood in my eyes, so seeing anything in the darkness was nearly impossible.
A nasty, rough hand covered my mouth, and I did what any smart woman would do—I bit the fuck out of him.
He yanked his hand back immediately. “Jesus Christ! The bitch bit me!”
His other fist came crashing down, connecting with my cheekbone that was already battered from the floor. Another shower of sparks exploded, and my consciousness was waning.
Stay awake. Stay alive.
While I fought the battle with myself, the thug jumped to his feet, and pain burst through my ribs when he landed a hard boot to my bare side. My lungs collapsed as the air was forced from them, and pain from every corner of my body began to mesh into one massive throb.
“See how you fucking like that, you whore.”
As I scrambled back on my elbows from where he stood, a sick realization crept through me. I can’t get away.
He came toward my beaten body, his hands reaching out like ghostly specters in the darkness. “I’m gonna have some fun with you before we go.”
My ears rang with the pounding pulse of agony.
“Hurry up. We ain’t got all fucking night.” The other one complained, as if he had better things to do than rape and murder me.
“Shut up. We ain’t in no fucking hurry,” the thug with rough hands replied as his fingers bit into the skin of my upper arm.
“Then you better fucking share.”
At this, I struggled ten times harder. I wasn’t getting gangbanged tonight. No fucking way.
“You can have your turn when I’m done with her. Been a while since I fucked a bitch with this much fight in her.”
I kicked out, catching him in the leg, and the other man laughed.
“Tie her up. She’ll probably fucking kill you if you don’t.”
The closest monster took something from the other one before dragging me off the floor and tossing me on the bed like I didn’t weigh a damn thing.
He pressed his mouth against my ear, and his hot breath made my gut churn. “You’re gonna wish you’d been nice to me, slut. Should’ve just spread your legs. Now I’m gonna make you fucking pay.”
“Get away from me,” I growled, trying to roll to the other side, which would put me within grasping range of the shotgun on the other side of the bed.
“Not a fucking chance.”
And then he was on me, pinning me down and forcing my hands over my head. That’s when I heard the rippppp of duct tape.
“No!”
The first piece went over my mouth as I screamed and fought from beneath him. He kept me pinned under his bulk as he tore off another piece and used it to secure my wrists together. The third piece bound me to the bed.
I yelled, but the duct tape muffled the sound so there was no way anyone outside the house could possibly hear it.
As soon as he had my arms taped down, he slithered down my naked body, raking the skin on my legs as he secured my right ankle. I tried to kick with the left one, but he caught it under his knee and rendered me helpless.
“Nooooo!” I screamed, but even I could barely hear myself over the rushing static in my head.
He laughed as he taped one foot, and then the other, to the bed posts.
“Fuck you!” I yelled, but he couldn’t understand me through the tape.