WARNING: This is unedited and it contains major triggers. Scene set-up: this is ten years ago. Zoann is seventeen and she just finished with a visit with Christopher and Val.
Giggling—again—Zoann dug her key out of her backpack and unlocked Grand’s door. Although she didn’t recognized the pickup truck in the yard, it didn’t concern her too much. Grand always had gentlemen who visited him.
Stepping into the cool house, Zoann heard the low hum of the kitchen radio.
“Grand!” she called, regretting not inviting Val in. Grand would be so angry with her for her lack of manners. Setting her backpack next to the coat rack, she walked down the hall, ignoring the photos of her, Johnnie, and Patricia on the walls.
Jeez, sometimes Grand could be so weird, proven by the photos. He had four additional granddaughters, a son, and another grandson. Who knew by the photographs on display?
Closer to the kitchen, the cigarette smoke hit her nostrils and the sound of the radio grew louder. Unease slid into Zoann and she counted to ten. Grand’s farm was safe, located on a dirt road and surrounded by fields and trees. There was even an apple orchard on the back of the property, but it had been years since Grand had allowed her near it.
She didn’t care, anymore. The last time she’d gotten close to it, a horrible stench had hit her and she’d almost been sick.
Reaching the kitchen, she found it empty, although a cigarette burned in an ashtray, a plate filled with half eaten cheese and crackers and the stems from grapes, and an empty glass sat on the table.
“Grand?” she called again, her voice cracking.
Releasing a frightened cry, she whirled around and meet a green gaze. Christopher had green eyes, too, but where her brother’s eyes were beautiful, the man before her had eyes like stone. They were flat and emotionless. He had a buzz cut and he might’ve been handsome if he didn’t look so scary.
She backed away, her nerves rising up when she noticed his bare chest. Grand allowed no one to walk around his house so indecent. “Who…who are you?”
“Cee Cee.” He perused her from head to toe.
Another inch back. All she needed was get to the phone and call Mama, ask her to come over. Normally, she’d call Christopher but he was already mad at her and Big Joe was already mad with him.
“Where’s my grandfather?”
She stopped moving. Each step she took away from him made him take one step closer to her. Instead of allowing herself to be wedged into a corner, she scooted around the table, heading to the door.
Cee moved quick, blocking her escape. “I never answered you.”
She’d forgotten she’d asked her grandfather’s whereabouts until then. “That’s okay,” she blurted. “I need to get home. Mama…my mother is going to need my help with my little sisters. Nia is probably in her room pouting and Ophelia won’t want to do her homework and—“
His thumbs brushed her nipples and Zoann froze. She needed to defend herself before things got any worse.
“My grand will be home soon. I’m here to cook dinner for him and he’ll be very angry if you hurt me.”
Cee Cee lifted a black brow, the gesture so reminiscent of Christopher that Zoann blinked. “My brother…all I have to do is tell him and he’ll hunt you down and kill you for touching me.”
Whether Christopher would really kill him was debatable, but he didn’t need to know that.
“Christopher, huh?” He hooted with crazy laughter and Zoann knew things spiraled out of control, faster and faster. “The bane of Logan’s existence.”
“I love my brother.”
He shrugged. “Don’t give a fuck. He’s not here. Only me, you, my dick, and your pussy. I intend to fuck you until I’m satisfied I’ve taken everything I’m supposed to have.”
“You don’t want to do this.”
“Oh, but I do, princess.” He reached for her and Zoann ducked under his arm, running toward the front door and screaming. No one would hear her, though. Their closest neighbor lived half mile away.
Cee Cee got to her as she reached the door, grabbing her around the waist and pushing her into the wood. His hard penis pressed against her back and she started to cry, the fear inside of her making her sick.
“I’m going to fuck you, Zoann.”
He knew her name? Not that it mattered. Only his intentions did.
He tightened his hold on her. “I’ve wanted you forever and I finally figured a way to get you.” He bit her cheek, then blew on the sting. “I don’t want to see you in pain yet, love,” he crooned. “If you cooperate, I’ll make you feel good first. Okay?”
Not okay. So not okay. “I’m a virgin and…and I-I don’t know what to do. You won’t feel good, so if you just let me leave I can call my brother. He always talks about different girls.” Not that he talked about them in front of her. She heard snippets whenever he visited Mama.
He bit her cheek again, harder, drawing blood this time and more tears.
“I’ll cooperate,” she gasped out, her cheek stinging, the warmth of the blood flowing down her skin. “Don’t hurt me.”
If she capitulated, maybe, he’d show her some mercy. If he showed her mercy, then, she’d find a way to escape. Hopefully, before, he actually raped her.
“Turn around,” he instructed.”
She hiccupped and shook with fear. This wasn’t right. She needed to fight. She couldn’t blindly follow his orders.
He slammed her against the door and she bumped her forehead and her shoulder. “Did you fucking hear me, you spoiled little cunt?”
Grabbing the shoulder she’d hurt, he yanked her around. Unlike when she’d first seen him, his eyes were blazing and his face was a mask of anger. She stared at him, silently begging him not to do this to her.
Not heeding her, he grabbed her wrist and dragged her down the hall, toward the bedrooms. Zoann plotted her next move and swiped at her cheek again. He opened a door to the biggest guestroom and shoved her inside. She skidded to the floor and moaned at the contact of her knee and the wood.
Bowing her head and covering her face with her hands, she listened to the sounds of his movements.
Light pierced the cracks of her fingers, hurting the back of her eyes.
A blow to side of the head knocked her over. She moaned.
Cee Cee’s voice floated to her through her dizziness and pain.
“I’m not telling you again. Stand the fuck up,” he ordered, kicking her side.
Gasping, she jumped to her feet and swayed, the blows he’d given her already impairing her. He wore a cut now. And nothing else.
His patches proclaimed him President of the American Scorpions. He was a biker. Like Christopher and Val and Johnnie. If she could just get him to understand hurting her would cause problems, maybe…
He was naked now. Maybe, she could get out the front door and get to the dirt road. She turned.
Gritting her teeth against the pain, she headed for the door. But her injuries slowed her down and he caught her before she reached the hallway.
Self-preservation kicked in and she struggled against his hold, sinking her teeth into his arms and screaming again. He slammed her onto the bed. She bounced up, butting into him shoulder first and knocking him back.
Her feet hit the floorboards, but he grabbed her by the shorts she wore. By the time he got her back onto the bed, they were halfway down her legs. A belt lashed against her face.
“Move again and I’ll beat your face with this belt until it’s unrecognizable.”
She stilled, but another sob escaped her. Cee yanked her shorts off and glared at her. “Sit fucking up and take off your goddamn shirt. I have to put you fucking back together when I’m through fucking you and send you home to your cunt of a mother.”
Home. He was going to send her home. He would rape her, but she could get home to Mama.
She sat up, her hands shaking, and pulled off her brother’s Tee-shirt.
Now, she was naked, vulnerable, more frightened than she’d ever been. But he would send her home. Christopher would fix this for her.
“To your knees.”
Obeying him, Zoann willed away her desire to cover her breasts and vagina with her arms and hands. She’d been shaving her pubic hair since she was fifteen years old but the way he stared at her private area made her think she’d done something wrong.
He pulled her nipple before bending his head and tugging it into his mouth, suckling her. Not hard.
“Relax,” he said, like it was easy to do.
“I can’t,” she whispered, gasping when he licked her nipple. “I don’t want to do this with you.”
He raised his head. “Am I hurting you?”
“N-no. That isn’t the point, though.”
He pressed his fingers against her clitoris and she jerked. No one had ever touched her there. She touched herself, even though the nuns said masturbation was a sin. To them, everything was a sin. It shocked her they didn’t think deep breathing didn’t send someone to hell.
“Touch me while I touch you.”
When she didn’t comply, he grabbed her hand and wrapped it around his penis. Keeping his hand over hers, he tugged his length, his other hand still working between her legs.
Sucking back the last of her tears, her mind focused on the moment when she could leave, she listened. This…she didn’t know what this would be called. He was forcing her but not really forcing her. She was scared but aroused and aroused but scared.
He crawled between her legs and opened them, rubbing his penis against her seam and staring into her eyes. She wished this was Val. That it wasn’t made her tense again and he scowled at her.
Rearing back, he rested on his heels and gave her a crooked grin. “I promised I’d make you feel good, huh?”
Zoann already knew he expected an answer so she nodded.
“Open your legs wide.”
She prayed this ended quickly. Squeezing her eyes shut, she spread her thighs. A moment later, she hissed in a breath, the long lick he gave to her both shocking and embarrassing. Her eyes flew open. Another lick. She trembled, feeling the sensation to the tips of her nipples and in the core of her belly.
His tongue moved faster and faster. Zoann groaned, her body melting at the way Cee Cee used his mouth on her. She twisted, not wanting the orgasm she felt building inside of her, but the way he used his mouth…She cried out, shaking, her release stealing her breath.
When he moved from between her legs, she closed her eyes and curled up, wondering how she’d face herself in the mirror.
“You little slut,” he snarled.
Zoann opened her eyes just as his fist flew toward her belly. He hit her hard enough to knock her off the bed. Her arms flailed and she landed with a hard thud on the floor. He followed her to the floor, grabbing her arm and yanking her to her feet, then shoving her back onto the bed.
“You’re just like every other bitch I’ve fucked. Telling me no then coming on my tongue.”
He hit her across her face and she cried out, raising her arms to shield the blows. He grabbed her hand and twisted until the bone in her wrist snapped. She screamed.
“Not feeling so fucking good now are you?”
Zoann moaned, sweat popping off her cold skin at the pain rolling through her body. He’d broken her wrist but it felt as if it affected her entire body. Too busy crying over the pain, the feel of the belt hitting her on various parts of her body shocked her away from the bone break and catapulted her into even worse pain.
The leather landed against her eyes and she shook her head, denying the screaming agony. The next several blows landed on her breasts, then went to her belly, before landing on her vagina so many times she swore she’d be ruined forever.
Unable to bear anymore, she reached out blindly. “Please stop. Please!”
One more blow and then he stopped. She was trembling, her body so very cold, but the pain flaring through her in hot waves.
“You liked to have your pussy licked?”
“No,” she sobbed.
Silence. A few moments passed, then she felt him climbing onto her and settling between her legs. She tried to open her eyes, but couldn’t. Or, maybe, they were opened and she could no longer see.
He thrust into her, tearing into her body.
Zoann screamed with each hard drive into her. He’d already hurt her there with the belt. Now, he was ripping her insides out with his penis, slamming into her over and over again. It seemed to go on forever but he finally stiffened and grunted before trembling and collapsing on top of her.
The sudden removal of his weight allowed Zoann a moment to draw in air. She was going to die. Everything hurt her and she couldn’t see. She held onto consciousness, but it was the voice keeping her away. She heard voices.
“Fucking kill you…”
“Kill that motherfucker…”
Words. That’s all they were. Zoann couldn’t make sense of any of them.
She sobbed again. She’d never get to say her speech. She’d worked so hard. She’d never see Mama, Christy and Fee again.
Because she was dying. And she was dying with Christy angry at her.
“Christy,” she managed around more tears. “I-I love you.”
She couldn’t hold on anymore. She just prayed, one day, she’d see her beloved Christy again.