“Mmm … all of it.”
Flashes of Mia and I faded as new, unwelcomed ones, sprang from a place I never wanted to return.
“What did I say, brother?” Oscar asks. “Or need I remind you?” My arms yank against the rope tied tight around my wrists behind the chair. If I were older and stronger, I’d be able to bust from these ropes and save her. I’d be able to do something—anything. But I’m only twelve, scrawny and pathetic. Oscar reminds me every bloody day.
Jasmine lays naked across the bed, completely vulnerable, yet tame. She doesn’t have to be constrained by rope or have tape over her mouth; Oscar’s threats are enough to push her into submission. In Jasmine’s eyes, she is his girlfriend. In Oscar’s, she’s his third victim. She never saw this fate coming, but I did. Keeping my distance became difficult when all I wanted to do was save her.
But she beat me to the punch.
Last night, she snuck out of Oscar’s room and entered into mine, pleading for me to help her run away. I tried Jasmine, I really tried. Oscar found her kneeling beside my twin-sized mattress on the floor. This scene before me is my punishment.
“Whatever my dick slides into first is mine,” he adds, lifting Jasmine from her starfish-position and onto all fours like a sack of potatoes. Jasmine’s long black hair slides off her back and covers her face, and the hard smack against her arse causes my eyes to jerk away.
“Look, Oliver,” Oscar demands.
I shake my head.
A loud cracking sound of his hand against her skin pinches my eyes together, and Oscar shouts once more, “Oliver!”
Reluctantly, I turn my head back to face him. I don’t know much, but I know if I didn’t, he’d find a way to force me. With his black hair gelled back, the devil in his eyes curses me as he stands next to Jasmine, who remains still on all fours. Her backside faces me as her head points toward the wall. Jasmine shouldn’t be treated this way; she’s not a fucking object.
Using both hands, he spreads her cheeks apart. “Did you stick your twelve-year-old knob in here?” he laughs, and my only reply is another jerk against the chair. Waves of emotion rush through me, and my fists clench together, unable to handle its crashing madness.
Rage.
I try to yell against the tape across my mouth, but nothing comes out.
“Of course, you didn’t. You wouldn’t know what to do with a pussy if it sat on your face.” He chuckles again, and the simmering of my blood turns into a boil. “You see, Oliver. If they’re dripping wet, they want it. You don’t even have to ask.” Oscar grabs a handful between her legs before his fingers disappear inside her. “And she’s fucking soaked.”
With the same hand he just pulled out of her, he rips the tape off me and slaps me across the face. “You’re fucking sick!” I scream.
Oscar throws his head back and jams his fingers back inside her, pumping harder than he should be. “You like that, pet?” he taunts Jasmine.
“Yes,” Jasmine moans, completely dominated by him.
My eyes grow wide. “Tell him to stop!” I cry out.
Instead, Jasmine arches her back, and her fanny opened up for him. I pry my eyes away.
“See what I mean?” Oscar laughs and unbuttons his jeans.
“Jasmine, stop this!” I cry out again as Oscar takes out his bulge.
She doesn’t speak another word when last night, all she did was beg for me to stop him and take her away. Oscar slams her face against the mattress as her arse raised high in the air. “I’ll get you your own, brother. Never touch mine again.”
Jasmine cries out, and my eyes slam shut.
My eyes jerked open as Dr. Conway stood over me with her hands on my shoulder. “Are you okay?” she asked, and I stumbled to my feet and stepped away from her. Worry hit her eyes. “Oliver, you need to sit down. You’re pale.”
“I’m fine.” I looked around to catch my bearings.
“What did you see?” She asked, taking a step closer.
I held up a hand between us. “Stop.”
She paused, and her face fell. “Do you want to talk about it?”
Shaking my head, I ran my fingers through my hair and took another step back. My stomach rolled, and my mouth watered, indicating it was only a matter of time before I was about to throw up. My eyes darted around the room for a safe place to hurl up my lunch. I launched forward as Dr. Conway backed away, and I reached for the trash can just in time.
Even on days I’d tried drinking my feelings away, I’d never thrown up. “I’m sorry,” I mumbled, hanging my head over the can afterward. “I’ll clean this up.”
“Oliver, it’s fine. I’ll take care of it. Let me have Nurse Rhonda take a look at you. I can walk with you to the station.”
“No.” The last thing I needed was Rhonda getting involved. She could be overbearing at times. “Really, I’m alright.” I tried to stand when my balance failed me. My hand caught her desk, and the other pinched the bridge of my nose.
“Alright, Mr. Hot-Shot. You’re going to see Rhonda”—Dr. Conway picked up her phone— “I’m not taking no for an answer.”
I gripped the desk and leaned over, annoyed with the situation I found myself in as Dr. Conway spoke over the phone.
Not too long after, none-other-than fucking Scott showed up at the door.
“Ethan, hi. Can you walk with Oliver to the nurse’s station? Make sure he’s checked out?” Conway asked as I rubbed over my temples.
Ethan dropped his chin in a nod before waving me out. “Let’s go, O.”
My knuckles turned white against the desk before I pushed off it. “Ollie,” I corrected him in passing. “It’s fucking Ollie.”
“Po-tay-to, po-tah-toe.”
I shook my head he fell in step at my side. Silently, we strolled through the halls until we entered strange territory. “I think you’re lost, mate.” Ethan’s pace didn’t slow beside me as he kept forward, turning another corner and down another hall. “Hey, man. This isn’t the way.” Ethan remained quiet, keeping his eyes out in front of him. One turn later, and we reached a dead end when I turned to face him. “Is this a bloody joke to you?”
Suddenly, he grabbed me by my shirt collar and slammed me against the concrete wall. Before I had a chance to react, his fist came across my face and a cracking bounced in my head. Ringing sounded in my ears, and I lost my balance before another blow to my stomach knocked the air from my lungs, taking me to the ground. “Get up you fucking pussy,” Ethan barked.
My hand reached for my gut with one hand as I stumbled to my feet. Spitting out the blood pooling in my mouth, I fell back against the wall for support. We both knew this was about the bruises I’d left on Mia. “Give it to me,” I offered with my fingers begging for more. “I won’t even fight back. I deserve it. I fucking deserve it.” There was no amount of pain he could inflict on me than what my heart was already doing. “Hit me!” I screamed.
His right-hook connected with my jaw and a jolt of pain shot through my skull. Another cracking sounded in my head, and I fought through it and caught my balance. Before I could right myself completely, another blow entered my ribs and I hurled over.