And then I hear a loud noise like gunshots. Joe’s invasion disappears, but I don’t look up to see why. I hear some more gun shots, shouting, and loud bangs, but I’m already falling.
I’m floating away on a distant cloud, and the more I welcome it, the more it comes. I feel blissful and euphoric. Pretty soon, all sounds are gone, and all that’s left is a sea of calm washing over me. Then, the blackness takes over.
I can’t fight it anymore.
Present Day
“Drake,” I whisper, feeling a set of arms around me.
“I got you, babe. Fuck, why did you leave me, Evelyn? Why did you run away?”
“Drake,” I whisper again. I feel I’m being carried and on the move somewhere, but I can’t open my eyes. I don’t seem to want to open my eyes.
Darkness comes again, and when consciousness finds me, I’m lying down somewhere with a sheet over me. I feel something restricting my arm, so I try and pull away.”
“Evelyn, stop. The doctor needs to examine you.”
I moan, but I still can’t open my eyes. I feel myself slipping again when I hear a voice. “She and the baby seem fine. Let her sleep it off. I’ll take the bloods to the lab and call you if I need to.”
Baby? What baby?
“Thank you, doctor. You don’t know how much of a relief that is.”
“You’re welcome. If she has any bleeding, bring her straight in to see me. Otherwise, I’ll see how she is in a couple of days.”
“Thank you,” Drake says again with relief.
Baby? Bleeding?
Darkness comes again, and for how long I do not know. When I eventually come awake, light is shining in my eyes, so I turn away on a moan. My head is banging. It feels like I’ve got a raging hangover.
I manage to open one eye and then two. I’m in Drake’s room, but Drake is not in the bed with me. How did I get here?
I feel confused. I can’t remember anything from the moment I was brought into that room and hung on that contraption. I move again and wince when I feel a pain in my shoulder.
“The doctor said you’d be sore there for a couple of days. You were bitten quite hard.”
Bitten? I push my hair out of the way and sure enough there is a bite mark with a big angry bruise around it.
Frowning, I turn towards the sound of Drake’s voice. He’s sitting on the chair, looking nothing like the man I used to know. His hair is dishevelled, and his shirt, which is normally crisp and buttoned up, is creased with three buttons undone. He looks like he hasn’t slept in days. He also looks like he hasn’t shaved in days.
He doesn’t look at me. He’s staring into space as if I’m not there. Is he angry with me? Of course he is. I ran away, but then, how did I end up back here?
“What happened?” I ask in a croaky voice.
He grits his teeth. “Isaac happened. He took you. Don’t you remember?”
My heart sinks. He still won’t look at me, and for some reason, I feel the stinging rejection. “I got a lift from a really nice lady. She took me to Reading. She gave me some money, and I managed to get a hotel room. Later that night, Joe knocked on the door, but I thought it was the manager. He injected me with something, and the next minute, I was tied to a bed with Isaac there.”
His jaw ticks, and I watch as he grips the arm rest with his hands. I can see that anger in him. I know when he’s about to blow. But I can’t help but want to go to him. And I can’t help but want to seek his forgiveness.
Throwing the sheet off me, I scoot out of the bed, noticing how every muscle aches. I want to moan with the pain, but I keep it down. As I walk towards him, Drake still won’t look at me. A part of me wonders if I should do this. He may throw me off of him, but I need him. I really need his comfort.
I straddle him, placing my arms around his waist and snuggling my head into his neck. He smells musky—all man. I want to savour the smell, but I can’t as Drake won’t return my affection. I snuggle again and wiggle myself a little on his lap to get him to do something.
“Drake, please,” I urge.
He visibly sighs, but snakes his arms around me before kissing the top of my head. This is the Drake I know and love. Not that monster he became.
“I should have known,” he whispers into my hair. “I should have kept you safe.”
Is he actually blaming himself for this?
“Drake, please. It’s my fault. This was all my fault. I shouldn’t have run, but you should have told me.”
I feel his heart drumming, and he squeezes me to him a little more. I can feel the rage building inside of him again, so I do something I hope will calm him. I start laying gentle kisses around his shoulder and then his neck. I start on one side and then the other. I feel Drake growing beneath me, and it spurs me on. I start breathing heavily and so does Drake. I can feel he wants this, so I push further and start kissing his lips. His eyes look lost, but glassed over as I come in for one kiss and then another. “Drake,” I whisper at his lips as I plunge my tongue in. He accepts me, moaning as he places a hand behind my head. “I want you,” I say, going in for more. It’s only when I start trying to undo his trousers that he stops me.
“Evelyn, no.”
Pulling back, I look at him confused. “What’s wrong?”
Drake huffs and shakes his head. He looks me in the eyes, his expression angry. “You don’t remember, do you? You can’t. Otherwise, there’s no way you’d want to do this.”
I frown, shaking my head. “I don’t understand.”
Immediately, Drake gets up and carries me towards the mirror. He pulls my shorts down and then motions for me to look. When I do, I see bruises everywhere. All over my hips, thighs, and legs. I pull one leg up and notice the bruises on the inside.
I cover my mouth with a gasp. “What happened to me?”
“You don’t remember?”
Tears pool my eyes, so Drake comes over and puts my shorts back on for me. He sits me on the bed. “I remember being tied to the bed. I remember asking Isaac why I was there, and he said that he was always trying to get to me, but then you got to me first. He said I was going to be a sex slave and that I should be used to it with you.” I turn to him with a frown. “Why, Drake? Why did he say that?”
His jaw is ticking again. He’s so angry. “I kept telling you, and you wouldn’t listen.”
“But why hide this from me? Why?” I ask, a little louder.
Drake quickly gets up from the bed and snakes his hands through his hair. “Because I was trying to save you from all this. From that fucker, Isaac. From my past. Even from me. But you had to push it, didn’t you? You had to push and fucking push until the monster I used to be came out.”
My eyes start pooling with tears. “What do you mean?”
He stares back at me with only anger in his eyes. “Don’t you see that this was what I was protecting you from all this time? If you were to see me—truly see who I once was—you would never love me. You could never love a monster like me.”
Wetness trickles down my cheeks. “Drake, please. I need to understand. You have a responsibility to tell me. I’m your wife.”
“That’s right. You are my fucking wife. But why would a wife run away from her husband?”
Feeling my anger rise, I get up. “Because you forced me. Don’t you understand? Ever since I was thirteen, you forced your will—your everything—on me. The lady who drove me knew about you. She told me about her friend’s niece you saved. She told me you got her off drugs, put her in college, and placed a roof over her head. Why couldn’t you have done that for me?”
Walking over to me, he grabs my shoulders. “You were in danger. I couldn’t let that fucker, Isaac, take you.”
I look into his eyes, and I know that’s not the only reason. “There’s more to it than that. I can tell. What are you hiding from me?”
He grips my arms tightly and then lets go. He starts pacing the room before looking back to me. “Okay. You really want to know the truth?” I nod. ??
?I was once Isaac. I was once that monster who took girls and made them do things they didn’t want to do.”
I cower back, shaking my head. “I don’t believe you.”
“Believe it because it’s fucking true.” He walks closer to me and points. “Do you know what my father gave me for my twelfth birthday?” I shake my head. “He gave me a drugged up whore to fuck. She was taken just like you were. Strapped up just like you were. I was only twelve—a virgin. He made me fuck her. Told me I needed to be a man. How is becoming a man fucking some drugged up girl against her will? How is it, Evelyn? Tell me!”
I step back, trying to fight the tears. I feel desperate. How do I answer something so fucked up as that? I stare at Drake dumbfounded. He’s not looking at me with the same daring prowess and confidence he always exudes. Instead, he looks lost—broken even. I think back to when I was drugged by his father and Drake took me to the basement and called me his whore. He didn’t look like my Drake then.
“You were just a boy.”
He inhales sharply, still not able to look at me. It’s almost as if he feels embarrassed to. “Yes, I was just a boy, but I could have said no. I even tried to say no. Instead, my father gave me that big man speech, and because it was my father, I believed him. I ended up losing my virginity to that woman, and I bet she didn’t remembered it for a while. It does come back, though.” He looks over to me as if trying to get me to remember. Remember what, though? My head is still fuzzy from the last twenty-four hours.
“I cried that night. And I cried several times after. But, I became immune to them after a while. Once I turned sixteen, he stopped drugging some. I thought I wouldn’t be able to do it with a conscious woman, but I did, Evelyn. Again, I told my father no, but he forced me, saying that otherwise he’d kill her. So, I fucked her. I fucked her as she cried and told me everything was going to be okay. That she wouldn’t blame me. Can you imagine what that does to a sixteen-year-old boy, Evelyn?” He looks at me then. I see the pain and the desperation staring back at me. Now, I understand him better. I want to comfort him, but at the same time, a part of me feels like I should be disgusted with him.
Against my better judgment, my feet move, and I go to him, placing a hand on his cheek. Drake closes his eyes and cups his hand on mine. “You were just a boy,” I say again, hoping that it’ll sink in.
Drake opens his eyes and stares into mine. “But that boy became a man.”
I wince when he says this. Was he still doing these things after we met? “When you met me …”
“I stopped. One look at you, and something snapped inside of me. You were only twelve, and yet you captivated me. I took one look, and what I saw in myself when I looked at you terrified me. You made me see the man I had become, but you also made me see what I could be. I couldn’t possibly let you go.”
I place my hand on his chest, and he takes it off and instead places it in his. “But what has this all got to do with Isaac?”
Drake closes his eyes. “My obsession with you became his.”
“But why?”
“Because one of the girls I fucked was his sister.” Gasping, I step back. “See?” he asks, with a snarl. “That’s the kind of man I forced you into being with. That’s the kind of selfish man who made you be with me because you were like a cure to my addiction. I tried to make you like one of them, but you wouldn’t listen to me, would you? You wouldn’t just do as you were fucking told. Isaac knew he couldn’t kill me, but he made me pay the price. He killed my best friend in retaliation. But I always knew it wouldn’t satisfy him. I always knew he would be waiting for an opportunity.” He then looks at me. “He must have been fucking ecstatic when I met you. You were my one saving grace, but because of my selfishness, I made you a target. I tried to stop being that monster. In fact, for years, I managed to not even look at a woman again. But you … you wouldn’t listen. You kept pushing and pushing until I snapped.”
The tears start running down my face, and I can’t seem to stop them. Surely this isn’t real? I can’t form words. I can’t even form thoughts. They’re scrambled all over the place in one giant fucked up mess. I want to go to him, but the part that tells me of his past is what holds me back.
“See, how can you love a monster like me?” I stand there—my mouth agape. What can I say? How do I form words to answer such a question? In the end, I don’t have to because he motions me forward. “Come. I want to show you something.” He walks towards a red silk gown over one of the wardrobe doors and puts it over my shoulders before taking my hand. Silently, we walk out of the room and down the stairs towards his basement. For a moment, I pull back, but Drake tugs me forward. “It’s not what you think.”
Trusting him, I nod my head, and we make our way down the stairs and into the room I spent a few days tied up in. But instead of me, or any other girl tied to the contraption, it’s Joe.
I gasp when I see him. He’s tied up just like I was, but instead, he’s fully clothed. It looks as though he’s been used as a punching bag because his face is swollen all over with bruises, and he has several cuts on his face. He seems unconscious as his head lulls forward, and I watch as a drop of blood falls from his swollen lips.
Rooted to my spot, Drake walks up to him and pulls a gun out from his back. He points it at his temple and pushes his head. “Wake up, fucker.”
He groans, but moves his head up. He spots me straight away and smiles. “Have you come to finish off the job I started, little one? We were so rudely interrupted.”
My eyes widen, wondering what he means when Drake lashes out, smashing the gun over his face. Joe screams before spitting some blood out. “Ouch! That really fucking hurt.”
Drake grabs the back of his head and pulls him up to look at me. “Say sorry for what you did. Say it!” He tugs at his hair.
Joe smiles again, showing me two missing teeth. “I ain’t sorry. I’d do it all over again if I could.”
Drake hits him again, making me wince. I look away. I don’t know why I did, considering everything Joe has done to me. I should want him to get the beating of his life. I should want him dead. But looking at him now—strapped up and beaten—is eating away at my insides.
“Evelyn, look at me.”
Slowly, I turn my head towards Drake. He’s standing there with the gun to Joe’s head. His eyes are blazing, and his breathing is heavy. This is the Drake I fear. This is the Drake who haunts me. But a part of me thinks he knows this. A part of me thinks this is exactly his plan. He wants me to see the monster in him. He wants me to fear it.
“What did he do?” Drake demands.
With my nerves shot, I lick my lips. Joe notices and smirks at me. “If you don’t want to tell him, I will.”
“Shut the fuck up,” Drake growls.
“Why are you doing this?” I ask Joe. “Why aren’t you scared?”
Joe starts laughing. “You are as innocent as you look, aren’t you? One way or the other, I’m a dead man. I may as well go out in a blaze of glory.” He winks at me before turning to Drake. “I gave her a tit fuck, rubbed my cum all over her chest, and later, I made her cum using Laney—one of my girls. I fucked her from behind and watched it all. I watched as she came. “Beautiful fucking sight. You must come a bucketful every time she does.” I look away, feeling embarrassed. I don’t want Drake to look me in the eyes and see the truth.
But then I hear Joe laugh. “The best fucking bit was when she was hanging all drugged up and smiling. She was like a beautiful siren. I couldn’t resist, so I fucked her.” My head snaps back to him with a gasp.
He did what?
But then it all comes flashing back. All the men with their hands on me, the auction, the winner who almost fucked me, but he didn’t get a chance to when I told him I was Drake’s. Then, there was the argument with Isaac about it before I was left in the room on my own. I remember Joe coming in soon after and that’s when he… I feel the bite mark on my neck and remember it was him. He did this before he raped me.
/> Fresh, hot tears sting my face and run down my cheeks as the memories of that night come flooding back. I stare back at Joe and start shaking my head, but all he’s doing is smiling at me.
“My only regret is that I didn’t take the opportunity to go into that room sooner. I would have had the time to pull out before coming all over that sweet pussy of hers.”
And then Drake does it. He pulls the trigger and blood sprays out before landing on the floor. Joe’s head falls forward, and when Drake looks at me, I start stepping back. Before I know it, I’m running up the stairs, taking two at a time and fleeing to the room I used to sleep in as a child. Once there, I run to the en suite and vomit up bile after bile. My head pounds. My eyes pound. Everything pounds as image after image of what happened at Isaac’s and just now wash over me. I don’t want the images to come, but they do. One after the other, I’m being taken to a place I never want to see again. If I could bleach out those images, I would.
After emptying everything I can, I grab a glass by the sink and fill it up with water. I take two paracetamol from the cabinet and pop them before drinking all the water. I walk to the bed and climb in wondering if Drake will come after me. For some reason, I already know the answer.
And it’s not the answer I would ever have imagined.
Present Day
Three days go by and no word from Drake. I had meals brought up to me, but always from one of the maids. The next day, I went in search of him, but I couldn’t find him anywhere. The same on day two. I asked one of the guards where he was, and all I was told was that he was away and should be back soon.
Yesterday, I had a visit from the doctor who was pleased with my recovery after my drugging and raping incident. In the end, he told me I could only take paracetamol for any pain, which I thought was weird, and that I had to come in for a scan in six weeks time. I thought that was weird too, but then I thought maybe it had something to do with the fact that I had run out at my last one. I told him I was fine, but he insisted, saying it was normal procedure. Whatever the hell that means.