Blood to Dust
“Until one day, Dad called and said there was an emergency. Preston had disappeared. No one knew where he was.
“I hurried back home, taking the first flight to San Francisco and crying my eyes out all the way there. I’d felt guilty enough about leaving Preston in the first place when I’d moved to London, but this was too much.
“I walked into my family home for the first time in over two years, and Preston wasn’t there. But you know who was? Godfrey, Sebastian and Camden.”
I suck in a breath, eyes burning until my lids give in and flutter.
“I marched straight into an ambush, perfectly orchestrated by my own dad. He kept crying and banging his head against the wall, chanting that he was sorry, which only infuriated me even more. Dad said they told him they’d kill him if he didn’t rat me out. Better me than him, right?”
I don’t answer, because I have zero control over what’s about to leave my mouth.
“The men sat me down and explained that despite everything, Camden still loved me, forgave me, even. Can you believe that?” A bitter laugh escapes those pinks. “Forgave, but didn’t forget. Which was why things were going to be a little different from that point forward. He was going to keep me as his ‘stateside piece.’ What he did to me then—” She chokes on a sob. My chest f*cking hurts. Why you, Country Club?
“He broke me. They all did. Him, Godfrey, Seb. . .they locked me in an apartment, not too far from Godfrey’s office, and I became entertainment. Pure, cheap, entertainment. A pet. No cell phone, no friends, no family. Just me and my two thuggish guards. And they came for me. They came every week.
“Sometimes it was Camden, who paid a visit and played with my body.
“Sometimes it was Godfrey who wanted to have fun.
“I was a whore. A nothing, a no one. The only one who didn’t touch me was Sebastian. No. Sebastian liked watching. Hetero sex was not his thing, he didn’t get off on watching them f*ck me. He got off on watching them hurt me. My pain brought him pleasure, and when I screamed, he came. Until, after a while, I stopped screaming. Just to spite them.”
Kicking off my covers and springing to my feet, I punch a wall before stalking to the bathroom to run for cover. Her voice chases me.
“Godfrey said that time was of importance, so we had a timeframe. Every time he walked into the bedroom to strip me of my clothes and humanity, he turned over a three-legged, thirty-minute hourglass on a nearby dresser. He said that it’d all be over in thirty minutes or less, because he didn’t want to waste too much time on a whore like me. I had to look at that hourglass every day and every night and hate it silently. Every time I broke an hourglass, he brought two along the next day. By the time I broke free, the room was littered with dozens of them, staring at me, taunting me, reminding me that life was happening and that time was moving on without me. The funny thing was that Camden didn’t know his dad was raping me. He thought I was exclusively his. When I tried telling him about his dad, he didn’t believe me. Said that not all fathers were bastards like mine. Then Godfrey would punish me for ratting him out.”
I punch the mirror above the sink. A web of blood cracks my reflection, disturbing my false looks with the truth of my ugliness. If Pea’s telling the truth, I’m the biggest * to walk this earth, and Godfrey Archer’s a dead man.
“I never stood a chance, Beat, until I did. One night, I took a risk. I did something they couldn’t foresee or expect.
“I fought back.
“I didn’t even have a butter knife at the apartment, but I did have plastic cups. I stole a lighter from one of my guards and prepared a weapon in the bathroom. Burned the plastic of the cup, molded it into a spear. . .”
Storming out of the bathroom, I slide into my boots with every intention of getting out of here.
“Camden arrived and forced himself on me. Only this time, I was prepared. When he closed his eyes and moaned my name, I took the spear out of the linen and shoved it into his chest. He rolled off of me, and it was only when I watched him bleeding on the floor, that I realized I stabbed his right side and not the left. I wanted the left, Beat. I wanted the left,” she says, crying loudly.
Don’t go down.
Don’t care.
Don’t. Fucking. Care.
“I plucked the gun he always kept in his holster when he came to see me and threatened the guards behind the door with it when I broke free. They let me run away. Somehow, I was out of that place. Somehow, I was free.
“I hid under a bridge for two days. No money. No food. No friends. I couldn’t contact my dad for obvious reasons. On day three, I arrived at Preston’s preppy school during his lunch break and told him I needed help. He was in Blackhawk all along. Dad sold him out so I’d come and see him. Preston agreed to help. The same afternoon he came back with five grand in cash. It was more than enough to see me through the next month. I told Preston he could never talk to me again, at least until I sorted this out. I hid at Motel 6. The minute I walked in the room and turned on the TV, I saw what was left of my life hitting the five o’clock news. A story about how my dad was suspected of drug trafficking and was forced to step out of his position as mayor of Manor Hill. By then, he’d already filed for bankruptcy after Godfrey forced him to hand over all the money I stole from Camden. Dad paid my debt.”
I breathe quietly, standing in my boots in the middle of the murky hallway, not making a move. Such a fighter. Such a goddamned fighter.