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“You don’t have to do this,” I say softly, holding my hands up.
Garrett walks over to the nightstand and grabs a gun, holding it at his side. “I went through a great deal of trouble to find you after you ghosted me, Cleo,” he says with a sigh. “You were wrong for that.”
“I was, I know.” I take a step back. “I was just confused, that’s all.”
“Confused?” He chuckles, but it sounds cold and menacing. “You weren’t confused. You even skipped town and hid from me.” He pretends to pout. “Now that wasn’t very nice, was it?”
My mouth opens and closes as I struggle to think of what to say. He points the gun at me, and I scream, cowering away from him. “No!” I shriek.
“Take your clothes off,” he orders. When I don’t move fast enough, he moves closer to me, the gun pointed at my head. “Now!”
“Okay, I’ll do it,” I say with a shaky voice. I slowly peel out of my clothes, whimpering when he comes closer to me with the gun.
“Faster!” he barks. Garrett keeps the gun trained on me as he moves over to the dresser, opening the top drawer and pulling something out of it. “Put this on.” I hold the article of clothing up to see that it’s a see-through negligee. He presses the muzzle of the gun against my temple. “Do it.”
With trembling hands, I put the lingerie on and try to cover myself with my arms as best as I can. Garrett looks at me with hunger flaring in his irises, licking his lips.
“You’re so sexy when you obey.” I flinch away from him when his fingertips skim my shoulder and move down my arm. “You’d better kept your virginity for me.” He uses the gun to brush away a lock of hair from my face. “Otherwise, I’ll be very upset.” He puts the gun in my mouth and puts his hand on my throat, squeezing as he gives me a chilling smile. “And you don’t want me to be upset.”
Little does he know, he’s weeks too late.
“Now be a good girl and bend over the bed for me. I need to check if you’ve kept your legs closed while on the run.”
Fear slithers up my spine as he presses the gun to my temple so hard my skin hurts. Slowly, I move to the bed on trembling legs, bending over the edge as he instructs. The gun moves from my temple to the back of my head. I’m so scared, I don’t dare move, as I feel his free hand against my folds.
He enters me with his fingers slowly, feeling around for a barrier that’s long gone. “You fucking slut, couldn’t keep your legs closed, could you?” He roars angrily before pulling his fingers from my pussy.
“I’m sorry,” I whimper through my tears, hoping my apology will somehow calm him. I have no such luck.
“I don’t want your apology, whore! You haven’t even begun to feel sorry.”
He grabs a fistful of my hair, shoving my head down into the mattress while kicking my legs apart with his feet. “Reach back and spread your ass cheeks,” he orders.
Still having the gun against the back of my head, I don’t hesitate. I reach back and spread myself open for him to see.
“Good slut,” he praises, before the gun disappears from my head. “Look at that cunt and puckered little asshole. Which one should I fuck first?”
Big fat tears stream down my face as I shake my head violently, which makes Garrett chuckle.
“Let’s see how wet your cunt will get with this inside…” And then I feel it, the cold metal of the gun against my folds. My whole body tenses as he forces the barrel of the gun inside of me.
“Please, no!” I beg, but he only forces more of the gun into me. Pain radiates through my core as he starts to fuck me roughly with the gun.
With no one to save me, I’m as good as dead.
TALON
Ican barely sit still as Tristan and I race to Cleo’s location. My mind is conjuring up every worst-case scenario that can possibly happen.
“Think it’s that ex-boyfriend she mentioned once?” Tristan asks, breaking the silence that fills the car.
“I wouldn’t doubt it,” I mumble. I remember Cleo telling us about him when we’d asked her why she had her original apartment in our mom’s name instead of hers. My worry increases when I remember Cleo telling me how he’d gotten violent with her when she rejected him, and it makes me wonder if the guy saw her with us and wanted to hurt her because of it.
“Can we drive any faster?” I ask.
“Getting stopped by the cops won’t help us get there any faster either,” he replies. “Just relax. We’re almost there.”
But I can’t relax. I won’t be able to until I know she’s okay. My mind is so conflicted right now. I don’t even know why I care to begin with. After our last conversation, I was ready to write her off and never talk to her again. But knowing she’s in danger only tells me that I care about her more than I’m ready to admit.
