Chapter 21
Cassie
My head pounds like you wouldn’t believe and my nose is assaulted by a god awful smell. I struggle to open my eyes on this cheap, uncomfortable bed. My body shivers and I pull my hands up to rub my face but something is holding them down. What the hell?
Wait, bed?
My eyes ping open. Holy shit.
My body automatically attempts to sit up but it’s then I realise my hands and legs are bound to the bed. I search frantically around the room as memories of being assaulted and knocked out come rushing back.
Where the hell am I?
My breathing comes too fast as I search the room. I find only darkness and I wonder if my vision is fucked after getting my head knocked into the side of a car or maybe I’m in some place that has the windows boarded up but I know it’s worse than that. My gut is telling me I’m in some creepy basement on a bed.
A shiver takes over me and I look down, horrified to find I’m in nothing but my underwear.
Tears stream down my face. How the hell did I get myself into this situation?
My eyes begin to adjust to the dark room and I start to really take in my surroundings. It’s a small brick room with one tiny window above a washing machine but the window has been blacked out, hence why it is so dark in here.
Old wooden stairs lead up towards the main house and my eyes desperately want to remain locked on the door at the top, knowing that is my path to freedom but I can’t. I need to continue looking, searching for something that I could use to help me out of here, after all, no one even knows I’m gone.
Bri is sick at home and as far as she is aware, I am at the game. The triplets would have no idea what is going on and why should they? But Jax, he is my one hope and he is in the middle of a massive game, he may notice I’m not in my spot in the grandstand but would just assume I’m sitting somewhere else.
I’m all on my own.
After I finish scanning the room, I realise I’m fucked. There is nothing sharp left in the room, not that I would be able to reach anything with my hands and feet bound. I locate all my clothes on the ground and realise they are all torn up and my hope starts to plummet.
My brain goes into survival mode and I reach my hands down to feel along the frame of the bed. Hope begins to surge within me as I feel a screw under my finger, I jam my nail into it and try my hardest to turn. That hope is gone quickly as my nail splits in two and bleeds. I curse but try to keep quiet, the last thing I want is to draw attention to myself and let the fucker know I’m awake.
I keep working on the screw but only end up with each of my fingers bleeding.
I hear creaking coming from above and realise the guy must be moving around the house and I pray he isn’t coming this way. Why rush? Not a soul knows I’m down here. I’m all his for the taking.
Fear laces every thought in my mind and I hate that I’m not stronger. For fuck's sake, I grew up with three big brothers, I should know how to get out of shit like this but instead, they treated me like a princess.
I work faster at the screw but it isn’t budging. I realise it’s a waste of time and start searching for something else.
I try pulling at the binds on my wrists to see if I can break them but once again, all I end up doing is hurting myself further.
The door at the top of the stairs is pushed open and my eyes flick to the door. My heart rate picks up impossibly faster to the point where I fear a heart attack. A sliver of light shoots through the room but the light is quickly blocked by a man.
He slowly makes his way down the stairs, leaving the door open behind him, probably so he can see whatever it is he is going to do to me.
He comes towards me with the devil in his eyes, looking me up and down and licking his lips. Bile rises in my stomach but I hold it down. The thought of this creep touching me is terrifying.
“Hello Cassandra,” he purrs, watching me with interest.
My eyes are wide and fearful but there is not a chance in hell that I would look away. I couldn’t risk it. I know what he wants and I realise he won’t stop until he gets it. That knowledge has me in an absolute panic but what I fear more is the unknown.
How far will this monster go? Will he have his way with me and dump me somewhere or will it be worse? Will I remain down here for weeks until someone finds me or will he kill me to cover his tracks?
My eyes track his movement as he comes closer and runs his fingertips up the length of my body. I try to move away but my bound arms and legs make it nearly impossible. His eyes heat at the touch and I choke back vomit. “So beautiful,” he says with his eyes on my chest. “I’ve been waiting a long time to have you but that damn hockey player just keeps getting in that way.”
My mind spins back to the night at Micky’s when Jax was punched and I can’t help but wonder if this was the guy and I pray that Jax did a number on him that night.
His eyes continue to look me over with darkness and excitement within them which has me wondering if this has happened to some poor girl before me.
He sits down on the bed beside me, leaving his fingertips trailing over my stomach. His eyes remain locked on mine. “I’ve been watching you,” he tells me, “day in and day out for months now. I think I might even know your schedule better than you do and I must say, you’re quite a predictable little thing. Your schedule never changes, but I like that in a woman. No surprises,” He continues as his fingers lower on my tummy, making their way down.
No, no, no. Please don’t, I beg silently, I’m not ready, I know it’s ridiculous to prepare for a moment like this but if I could mentally check out, it would make taking the abuse that bit easier. I mean, the only man I have ever been with is Jax and I know he will still love me afterward but I can’t stand the thought of my body being ruined for him. How could he love me the same when I’ll never be able to love myself again?
His fingers linger on the inside of my hip, right where my tattoo sits. “But you know what really surprised me and quite frankly, pissed me off?” he asks. I refuse to answer and my silence spurs him on. “I was there you know, the day your skank friend convinced you to mark your beautiful skin with this filth,” he spits, pulling down the edge of my underwear to reveal Jax’s name. “It’s was the same day I stopped you on your run, I introduced myself but I bet you’re too shallow to remember my name, aren’t you?” he questions. He is right, I can’t remember his name, maybe I am shallow, but I honestly don’t give a fuck right now.
“That little bitch deserves to be shot for the way she talked to me,” he says. “I knew I should have just taken you then, knocked the bitch out and had my way with you but there were too many people around, too many witnesses. They wouldn’t understand.”
I scowl up at him. How could someone be so freaking deranged? I can’t hold my tongue any longer. “You’re fucking scum,” I spit at him. “Just you wait until my brother’s and Jax catch up with you. You’re going to regret the day you ever saw me.”
He smiles down at me, the same way a parent would smile at a misbehaving child. “Darling, that isn’t going to happen,” he says so sure of himself. Though I know the truth. My brothers would never let this guy get away with it and who knows what lengths Jax would go to.
The guy takes a breath and looks around his sickening little basement. “This is special, isn’t it?” he muses as his eyes come back down to me adoringly. “Just you and me with all the time in the world.”
“You’re fucking delusional.”
He shrugs his shoulders before pushing up off the bed. He reaches into the back pocket of his jeans and pulls out a pocket knife. My eyes go wide and I can basically feel the blood draining from my face. I watch as he looks down at his knife with love then flicks open the blade. His eyes light up with excitement as he looks back down at me. “I think it’s time we got this show on the road.”
My breathing becomes laboured as his knife lowers to my body. I didn’t expect this, well, I mean, I’m expecting he is going to hurt me in the most volatile ways possible but the scenario where he pulls a knife on me never entered my brain and I feel I need a few moments to mentally prepare. But it’s too late, I’ve run out of time.
The knife comes towards me and I watch it with wide eyes. I try my best to squirm away but the bounds on my hands and feet are keeping me in place. Tears flow down my eyes as I realise this could be the beginning of the end, “Hold still, baby,” he grins wickedly as the blade comes in contact with my skin at my hip.
Instead of the knife plunging down into my flesh, it slips shallowly under the side of my underwear until the material is held up off my skin by nothing but the blade. With a quick flick of his wrist, the material slices in two and the fabric bounces away from each other, clearly revealing my tattoo.
His eyes focus in on the tattoo as darkness and anger flashes over his features. I sense him move before he does it, “No,” I cry out as his blade comes down on me and slashes deeply through my tattoo. I scream out in pain and instantly feel the warm blood oozing down my hip and in between my legs. Sobs are ripped from my chest as the stinging intensifies but he doesn’t stop there. His blade comes down once more in the opposite direction and slices through the tattoo once again, making an X.
I scream and cry out, not just in agony but for the symbolism behind the tattoo in which he has just taken away and destroyed.
His hand connects with my face in a harsh slap as he tries to get me to shut up, but it’s no use. I can’t stop and I won’t. “You better quit that shit before I show you what else my knife can do.” Yep, that shut me up. I try my hardest to swallow my sobs and I close my eyes, not wanting to see anymore.
“Open your eyes,” he demands, slapping me again. “I’ve waited too long for this for you to not see.”
I reluctantly open my eyes to find him sitting back down on the bed. His eyes trail over my body once again and linger on the bloodied tattoo. “Much better,” he muses to himself before pulling out his knife once again and slicing the other side of my underwear and up through the centre of my bra.
I lay before him, naked as the day I was born with tears in my eyes wishing it was already over. A small amount of relief comes over me as he folds the blade back into the hilt and tucks the damn thing in his back pocket.
His hand comes up to my chest and he takes my breast in his palm, giving it a painful squeeze before rubbing my nipple between his fingers. The touch has bile rising in my throat once again. His other hand skims down my stomach and over my bloodied tattoo. Pain rips through me at the touch but it is quickly forgotten as he continues on down and cups between my legs.
His hand is wet with my blood but the feeling spurs him on. “You like it don’t you?” he grins at me as he forces his fingers between my folds and presses down while feeling my clit between his fingers. He continues rubbing my nipple as he painfully explores my clit. “Fuck yeah,” he groans. “I’m so fucking hard.”
He suddenly let's go and stands beside me, his hands go to his jeans and he makes quick work of removing his clothes.
He palms his pathetic excuse for a dick, rubbing the blood from my wound into his skin and I realise the sick fuck is using my blood as a fucking lubricant. His hand comes down between my legs again, though this time he bypasses my clit and heads straight for my entrance.
His fingers dive in painfully and I cry out. “Yeah, I knew you’d like it, you fucking slut.” He says as he continues to palm his dick and thrust his dirty fingers into me.
A loud banging comes from the house above and has the creep freezing before ripping his fingers from me and pulling his jeans on. “Don’t say a fucking word,” he warns me before dashing up the stairs, two at a time and closing the door behind him. I hear a distinct lock before I hear him rushing through the house.
The banging on the door intensifies and I realise it sounds more like someone trying to break the door down.
I fucking hope so. I listen out desperately, trying to hear voices or some kind of evidence that someone is here to get me. I hear the familiar sound of wood splintering and feet rushing across the floor.
There is another loud bang, different from the earlier bang before I hear his angelic voice. “Where the fuck is she?” Jax bellows out.
Jax?
I scream out over and over again. “HELP, JAX, I’m here,” I cry “In the basement.”
The sound of something or someone being dropping to the ground is heard throughout the room before the basement door is kicked in.
Light comes shining into the darkness and I have to squint my eyes as the figure stands at the top of the stairs. My eyes quickly adjust and there he is.
My freaking bad-ass hero.