You Are Mine Little Sister (by Syra Tucker) novel Chapter 148

My world did a long blink. It felt like my skull sprouted extra eyes just to watch it collapse. My lungs clocked out on me, my heart unhooked itself and sprinted for an exit I didn't have.

My eyes went saucer-wide as I looked up at him, praying I'd misheard the universe.

"No." It slipped out on a breath and a shake of my head. "Blayne, you can't—"

"It's already done, love." His hand slid into my hair, threading gently like he was combing a pet he'd just sold. "The money has been wired. Gold has been delivered. Not to mention for those two years, I'll be cultivating a splendid relationship with them." He laughed, my eyes did the opposite with tears.

The room became too hot. All of a sudden, I was sweating like I'd been placed in an oven.

Two years. I'd be dead in six months.

Before sense could catch me, my hand shot out, gripping the hem of his shirt like a drowning woman clutches driftwood. "Blayne, please. Y—You can't do this. You c—can't send me to them. They'll kill me."

"Nah." He plucked my fingers off his shirt with two neat taps. "They won't. We had an agreement."

"No...I won't survive it. I—I won't survive it. They'll... I can't go there."

My head thudded back against the headboard. Memory of what my life had been with them barged in uninvited.

The Ash Twins were real life monsters. Men who breathed better when someone bled. If there wasn't pain and blood involved, they weren't done.

I barely survived my nights with them. Twice, I'd passed out when I was with them and woke up in this very clinic. My back was filled with wounds from them—wounds that hurt from time to time. I'd be doomed if I were to spend two years with them.

Sobs shook me apart in uneven pieces as Blayne turned toward the door.

"Get ready, Rali. Tomorrow night you meet them. By weekend, they take you home with them."

He paused with one hand on the handle, face tilted back to me. "They have a really nice house. Who knows? You could have your own maid. Unless—" He cracked the door. "—they decide to treat you as one."

"Please," I sobbed, voice breaking on the simplest word I owned.

But the door had already chosen his side, closing with a click that sounded exactly like a verdict.

‡‡‡‡‡‡‡‡

Deep breaths. In. Out. In again.

The ceiling must've learned my face by heart.

I stood in the hallway with my hands on my thighs, my feet tapping the small space I stood.

A ball gag buckled across my mouth, making sure I could only spill fractured sounds. Marshall stood before me, right in my middle. My legs were locked around his waist—involuntarily, if that was necessary to add. His hands made a vise of my waist, holding me immobile while he took what he wanted without pause or pity.

Beside me, Mayor toyed with my spine, rolling a palm-sized wheel studded with needles. He continuously teased my back with it, making me dread the moment he'd eventually pierce through.

"How does she taste, brother?" he asked, sliding a finger down the center of my back. "Still good, even after being fucked by the Cos?"

Marshall, maintaining his brutal thrusts, brought a hand to my nipple and pinched. Hard.

I bit down on the gag and attempted to lift my head, but Mayor's hand on the back of my neck kept me where he wanted.

Marshall's lips dragged along the line of my neck, leaving a hot trail before his teeth sank in. He bit, sucked, then pulled back just enough to mumble against my skin: "She's good."

A broken whimper spilled into the gag, my chest rising and falling like I was drowning. I clenched my eyes shut, reaching for the only trick I knew to survive. I forced myself into imagination. Somewhere else. Anywhere but here.

Since my past was nothing but a blank canvas, I always painted new ones. I pictured myself in a snowy city, surrounded by a family that never existed. We'd laugh around fireplaces, eat breakfast together, play games, tell stories. In that world, I wasn't a body to be used. I was loved.

I tried to sink deeper into that memory, to blur out Marshall's hands, his heat, and the filth of what he did.

But then Mayor struck.