“I’ve been dreaming of this moment. Maybe I should have got some of those fucks to stay. That way, when I tell Emmet how I got to have you first, break you in, he’ll have confirmation.” He licks his lips as his hand travels under my top and strokes against my stomach before he pinches my flesh, hard enough to mark me. Repeating the action over and over again, until he’s satisfied that he’s left more than his fair share of marks on my body.
“H-h-h…”
“H-h-h what, come on, you stuttering bitch. Get it out.”
Hot, angry tears sting my eyes but I refuse to let them fall, to give him the satisfaction.
“He’s your brother,” I spit out, as my hand comes out and strikes his face. He looks at me, mouth as wide as his eyes before he grips my wrist, and twists it.
“You bitch,” he roars. The back of his hand connects with my face and my head slams to the side where I keep it. I can’t bear to watch what he’ll do next, I don’t think I’m going to survive it. His fist connects with the side of my jaw, and fills my mouth with even more blood.
“Oh no, you’re going to watch me for every moment of this.” He grips my chin, forces my head back until I’m looking at him, and then he grips my top and rips it down the center. Until it lies at the side of me, and I’m bare to him, my bra the only thing keeping me decent.
His hand grips the top of my bra, his eyes staring at mine, dark promises that make me wish the strangler had succeeded in the pool house after all. I’ll welcome those nightmares any day over this.
“Time for you to lose that precious virginity of yours. I’ll gladly show you a thing or two.” He chuckles darkly, and I set my jaw.
“It’s not yours to take. Too slow on the draw ” My lip trembles as the door bursts open, and footsteps sound before he’s pulled off me. I watch in morbid fascination as Aeron pounds him into the ground.
I can’t even count his punches, he’s moving that quickly and another set of hands pull me up, but I can’t look away. Even as a shirt that smells of Tucker is wrapped around my shoulders.
“Did he touch you? Luna, did he touch you?” I’m spun around until I’m looking into a pair of ocean blue eyes.
“What?”
“Did he touch you?” he says it slowly, enunciating each word as though he’s talking to a child, and right now, I feel like one.
“N-n-n- but h-h-he…”
“Shhh, it’s okay. I’ve got you, he won’t hurt you.” He pulls me into his firm chest, and I sag against him as my tears finally find their release.
“Aeron, man, you need to stop,” he calls, but it lacks his usual authority.
“I’ll stop when he’s in his coffin,” he shouts back as the sounds of flesh smacking flesh continues to ring out, and then the door swooshing open sounds around the din.
“Get the fuck off me, I’m going to kill him,” Aeron screams, and Tucker holds me tighter.
“He’s done, man. He’s done.” Tom, the voice of reason must have joined us.
“He knows Tucker, he knows,” I gasp against his shirt, now soaked in my tears and blood. I ball it up in my fists as I peer up at him, and he looks as though I’m gutting him right now.
“What does he know?” he asks in a thick, croaked voice.
“That I’m n-n-n-no longer a-a-a v-v-vir-virgin.”
“You fucking what?” Wonder and a gruffness fills Emmet’s tone, and what a way to make himself known.
One hour until the assembly will take place, I sink deeper into the bath that Tucker ran for me, and sitting on the edge is a slip of paper that is one blow from falling into the water. A piece of paper that Tom has given to me, so I know who is waiting to make me theirs. I shouldn’t know, shouldn’t have the privilege, but there it is.
I clutch it between my fingers, making the edges soaked, but it doesn’t ruin the list or the names scrawled on it. More names than I would have imagined. And the order does strange things to my stomach.
Waiting List For Five
1: Tucker
2: Tom
3: Emmet
4: Dustin
5: Dillon
6: Maddox
7: Craig
8: Ashley
9: Shane
10: Aeron
I don’t know who organizes these lists, but I can’t imagine even Sir would have ordered it like this, I would have thought Shane would be higher up and I’m glad he isn’t. Although I feel weird about the other guys, the only thing I can hope is that they’ve claimed another girl by the time I’m next released.
Tucker.
He put himself on the list. This surprises me, and I don’t know why. Maybe because of how aloof he is with me half the time, and I never see him with any of the girls. I know he doesn’t have any favorites, but he must visit with some of them… right?
It doesn’t even matter; I don’t want anyone near me, I couldn’t even bring myself to go to the medical center in case Cole is on his rotation, and I’ve just miscounted the months. I’m chickenshit, but could anyone blame me after everything I’ve been through? This truly has been the week from Hell and the sooner this year is over, the sooner I can start and finish my final year. Wash my hands of all of them, even if the thought of never seeing Tom or Darius again makes my heart break just a little. Because I know my reality, I’m not the type of girl to get the guy or if I really had my wish, the guys. My life was built on tragedy, it’s only fitting that it will end the same way.
Depressing, too fucking right. There’s no room for optimism right now, but pessimism seems to be my new best friend.
A knock sounds on my door, but no one comes in, and I don’t extend the invitation either. Whoever it is can damn well wait until I’m good and ready. I’m not feeling very personable right now. Who could expect any less? Will this place ever stop shitting on me? Is this how next year will be? I mean, it seems to be getting gradually worse as the months pass, so who the fuck knows.
The water sloshes over the side of the bath as I climb out; the paper lies in the bath water, no longer revealing a secret I should never have been told.
I wrap myself in a towel, before quickly drying off and slipping on a pair of shiny leggings - I don’t need permission for these, and I’m not exactly eager to dress sexy right now. I pair it with a grey, shimmery tunic, entirely conservative at the front but the back is entirely missing, other than a criss-cross ribbon, and a slim band of material at the bottom holding it in place.
I look in the mirror, giving myself a little pep talk. “You’ve got this, you can go out there with your head held high. You’re a survivor, Luna Carter, you survive everything that this fucked up world throws at you. The Harkwrights will not destroy you, don’t give them that power too.” Maybe it’s a little late for that. “Not helping inner bitch, so not helping.”
I roll my shoulders and slowly make my way to the door. My steps slow, growing slower the closer I get. My hands tremble and I can barely get the handle to turn, but somehow I make it work, push it open, and step into my room. To find Emmet sitting on my bed, his hands braced on his knees, watching me. I swear, he’s always fucking watching me.
“What do you want, Emmet?” I aim for strong but sounds nothing more than timid, weak.