Bitter Angel (8 page)

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Authors: Megan Hand

BOOK: Bitter Angel
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I went limp, and Alpha carried me into the bathroom. He set me in the tub, still wearing my bra and underwear, and he turned on the faucet. The water was freezing cold.

“Shit!” I squeezed myself to the back of the tub-shower combo, knees to my chin, toes curling against the frigid water. My teeth were chattering. It was my own personal response to the mixture of chill and pain.

Forcing myself to focus, I tried to gather clues in the bathroom. There was a window above the nasty toilet. It was about the size of my head. The idea of fitting my hips through there was laughable.

The state of the bathroom was worse than the bedroom. What used to be caulking in the tile around and behind me was now only mold. The retro flowery shower curtain was decayed and torn, barely hanging onto the shower rod. The mirror above the sink looked like it’d been hit with a baseball bat. The pedestal sink seemed decently clean from this short distance, but the only personal effects stacked beside the faucet were three large boxes of condoms. I started to gag.

Alpha splashed a handful of water in my face. His eyes lit up. “We could have some fun in here if you want.”

If I want? Is he serious!
“Go fuck yourself.”

In less than a second, his face was at my shoulder, the blade pressing to my neck, moving slowly up my jaw. He spoke in a near whisper. “I would really hate to ruin such a pretty face, but I’ve done it before and I’ll do it again.”

The dark truth in his words made me gulp. With the sharp end of the blade still shoved against my skin, he began kissing my neck. The tub was filling with icy water, and I was sure my breath was rancid. He must’ve lost his concentration.

“So worth waiting for you to wake up,” he mumbled. “Fighters are much more fun.”

My mind went to work, panicked but swift. I let his lips work around my ear and waited for his grasp to loosen on the knife.
Weak as I am, I might be able to get out and shut him in the bathroom, then I could—

As I felt my window opening, I retched again, vomiting what little liquid was left in me but mostly dry heaving. It all landed on Alpha. Startled, he leaned back and lost his footing. The knife sliced across my cheek. My eyes stung with fresh tears as I gasped and pressed a hand to the cut. It wasn’t deep, but it was long.

Alpha’s bloodshot eyes were wide and enraged. “Shit!” He wiped my spit off his face and sneered at me. “That’s what you get.” He stood up. The knife hung at his side. “Screw this. I’ll go fuck your friends.”

At the thought of him on top of Heather or Nilah, I leapt to my feet, grabbing the rotting shower curtain for support. “No!” I swiped at him with my free hand, the other still clamped to my face. “I’ll do anything.” I meant it this time. Sort of.

“Sorry, baby, you missed your chance.” His grin was back. “When I come back later, it won’t be fun.”

As he pulled away from me, I slipped and toppled over the porcelain side of the tub, taking the shower curtain with me. My entire left side smacked against the cheap tile floor that looked like it was a hundred years old. Grime from the floor scraped the unwounded side of my face.

“Please,” I begged.

But he was already turning, his retreating figure swimming in and out of focus. The volume of the music and voices amped up, a thundering bass under me, then it went quiet again as the door slammed shut.

On the floor, tears ran fast and hard down my good cheek and the hand covering my bloody cheek. As much as I wanted to retreat to a nice, numb spot in my brain, I wouldn’t let myself. I had to stay here, in the now. I had to escape.

Hearing the door squeak open and softly close again, I silenced myself.
The bed creaking was the only sound for a minute. I twisted around to see Trigger sitting there, hands folded in his lap. He wasn’t looking at me. Another zip tie hung from his fingers.

I let go of my face, hoping the blood was clotting. I didn’t dare catch my reflection in the cracked glass of the bathroom mirror. On my knees, I braced my fingers against the wall to stand. Weepiness was just under the surface. I felt sick, weak, pitiful, and stupid. Maybe taking the tough girl approach wasn’t so smart after all.

“What did you give me earlier?” I asked him. “What did you give my friends?”

I was treading carefully in the bathroom doorway. Maybe if I could get him to tell me what it was, I could rewind to freshman chem class. As a pre-med major, I should know something! If you were to ask me what all the branches and nerves of the nervous system are, I’d tick them off in seconds. But chemistry? I’m not inept, but I’m sure there’s a word close to that with a picture of me next to it.

Still…

He remained silent, whipping the zip tie around like a lasso.

I had to know what was going on, but I didn’t want Alpha coming back in, so I kept my voice low. “What are they doing out there? What the hell is this?”

He didn’t speak, didn’t move.

In the stillness, I visually measured the distance from where I was to the window that was to the left of the bed. One look out showed me a wall of windows recessed into brick about twenty or so feet away, which told me we were high up, probably in some slum apartment building. That seemed like good news. Apartments meant fire escapes.

Please, God,
I prayed.

My feet teetered, rising slightly to the balls. I wasn’t sure if I had the strength to sprint, but I would try. Adrenaline would hopefully be my best friend.

Suddenly, Trigger looked at me, and I tucked my plan away for the moment. As he approached, I felt myself sliding to the ground, either from my shaky legs or the sheer need to put some distance between us. In an instant, he grabbed me by the hair and yanked me back up. I yelped.

“So, it’s my turn,” he said harshly. He gestured to the zip tie. “Alpha said I might need this.”

With one hand, he tossed me on the bed, wrestling me to my stomach. My thrashing and writhing didn’t slow him down in the slightest as he bound my wrists again. I was making noises that were meant to be words, but they only came out as grunts and cries.

He turned me onto my back. “You girls are all the same.” He seized my face by the jawbone, trying to be stern but noticeably avoiding my injury. “You all think you can toss me aside. I don’t matter. Go ahead. Say it!”

I ignored him. “Where are my friends? Are they really okay? What did you give us…me…”
Hell, I can’t think.
If my hands were free, they’d be rubbing my forehead, but they weren’t. They were trapped beneath me. Once again, cutting my chances of escape.
How can I get out the window with no hands?

He leveled me with a black stare. “Tell me, who did you torture?”

“What?”

Gripping my shoulders, he held me up. “Tell me,” he demanded. “What did you think when you first saw me? Pathetic, right?” His eyes were wide with vindication.

That’s what that look meant earlier when he’d pulled me out of my daydream. This geek was pissed off for being tormented in high school and for probably never getting laid?

I chose a new tactic. “I’ll pay you,” I offered hastily. “Let me go, and I’ll pay you.”

He laughed humorlessly. “How could money equate to what I’m going to get tonight?” The lust in his eyes was prevalent as they slipped down to my black lacy bra that left little to the imagination.

“This is not revenge! It’s rape!” I fired back, forgetting to keep my voice low. I took it down a few notches, keeping my tone fervent. “This is sick, and you’ll never be able to undo it. You know this is wrong.” I was trying really hard to level with him and not plead as I looked him straight in the eye. “And what if my friend dies? Then you and your rat pack will be going to jail. For murder.”

His split-second hesitation told me everything I needed to know. He was breakable. I just might be able to win this guy.

“Let me go.” I tried again, softer and more urgent. “Let my friends go, and we’ll never speak a word of this to anyone. We won’t go to the police—”

“You all say that.” His face twisted in anger again.

“This is your first time, isn’t it?” I was totally going on instinct with this one. By the looks of it though—the awkwardness and delay as he touched me, the fact that he was still fully clothed—I was dead on. “I can tell. Whatever this is these assholes are running, this is your first time. You can end this now. Please.” My last word was a whisper.

His lips hiked up into a sneer, and I saw a small minute shake of his head. “No,” he said, determined. “It’s my turn now.”

With that, he kissed me hard on the mouth. I couldn’t fight back because I had no hands. Every brain cell was screaming at me. Every inch of my skin crawled as he ripped my bra and dug his fingers into my hip.

His lips made it down to my collarbone, his body now on top of mine. I hadn’t realized I was crying again until I felt his cheek smearing my tears. Even if I could knee him somewhere, it’d be useless.

“No, no, no,” I wept so softly. I was resigned now, I realized.
How on earth did this night get so fucked up?

“Shut up,” he barked. “Or I’ll get the needle again.”

I began rambling, appealing to any fiber of morality left in him, because I knew there was none left in the other three. “Don’t you want to get married someday? Have kids? A good job? A mortgage? How can you do this and think you’ll have a normal life? Those guys out there are probably rich and used to getting their way. They’ll never have normal lives. They’ll be in and out of rehab, probably have a million divorces with kids they never see. Just because you got shoved into your locker or rejected by a cheerleader doesn’t mean you can do this to me. To us.”

He grabbed a fistful of my hair. “Shut up!”

Cheers resounded from the front room. They were congratulating him on putting me in my place. How kind of them.

“Please,” I whispered. “Just let me go. Just me.”

He didn’t have to know that I planned on bringing hellfire back to this place.

A muscle jumped in his jaw. He backed away like he wanted to hit me, but I could see he was at war with himself. He was trying to be rough and dangerous, but he also knew that what these guys—and he—were doing was wrong. All of this was wrong.

“What did you give Heather?” I asked again, keeping my voice subdued, alluring.

He had to at least think I was on his side and that I wasn’t blaming him for all of this. I didn’t have much experience with this level of evil, but I’d seen enough hostage-type movies to know that I needed to pretend to be his friend, even if I wasn’t.

“Is she okay? She has a heart condition. She could die!” I raised my voice again, and I swore under my breath. My gaze darted to the door as I waited, dreading Alpha’s face. Thankfully, it stayed shut, music still blaring beyond it.

Trigger slowly, dazedly rolled off of me. His expression was like he’d just woken up from a horrendous nightmare. He swallowed a few times, his eyes growing more haunted by the second. I told myself not to get too eager. In choppy, methodical movements, he came to the edge of the bed and sank his head into his hands, rubbing his fingers from the nape of his neck to the crown of his head. Back and forth, back and forth. “Oh God.” The words had an ill edge to them. “Oh God, oh God, oh God...”

I waited, not patiently, but I didn’t want to push it. He was cracking.

“What did you give them?” I asked again, trying to tiptoe around his mental break.

“I…I can’t tell you. It’s new. A mixture.”

“Of what?” I whispered fiercely.

He held his hands out, palms up. “I don’t know how to help you.”

“My friend is going to die unless I get her out of here.”

“I…I…” The whites of his eyes were turning red as he fidgeted. “I didn’t even give her that much,” he said, more to himself than to me. “I dosed you all the same.”

“Shit.” The words slipped out. My head sank to the bed. “I have to get her help. I have to get her out of here.”

“They promised me,” he babbled, attention nailed to the wall across from him. “They said it’d be easy. The girls never remember. Best time of my fucking life.” His lower lip quivered, and he started…sobbing.

I don’t have time for this!

“Okay.” I wiggled myself upright. My face was fiery with pain, stiff with drying tears. “So you can undo what you’ve done by letting me go.”

He turned glistening eyes on me. “They’ll kill me if I do, and my—” He stopped abruptly and continued with, “I know it. They already threatened me earlier when I wanted to back out.”

I don’t give a shit!
I wanted to shout at him, but the ounce of rationality in me kept me momentarily sane. I asked the question that I’d really wanted to ask since he’d appeared in the room.

“Is she really still breathing?” As drunk and sick as I was, I was pretty damn sure I had felt no pulse. “Tell me.”

It took a full thirty seconds of pure silent agony for him to give me the smallest nod. “Her pulse is low. They have her on a monitor to make sure. They promised me that if it hit the danger zone, they’d let her go.”

They have her on a monitor?
I was stunned silent. These guys were for real.

He wiped his face with the back of his forearm. “Now I don’t know. I’m a first-year pharmacology major. I wouldn’t even know how to help her if I could.” He was bawling again. “I was just supposed to make the drugs. This wasn’t supposed to happen.”

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