I sit in the bathtub, the water cold. My mind on my mom…her body. The way Tyson stabbed her. No emotion. The Lords are trained to do as they’re told. They’re puppets to a master. Every day of their life before they’re even born is mapped out. Who they’ll fuck, who they get to marry. Where they’ll work.
A part of me wishes Tyson had just killed me. My family is gone. I know it. No one wanted to tell me. A Lord doesn’t want to deal with a woman, much less one who’s alone now. My bloodline is gone. I’m the last of my family. You’d think I’d be important. But I’m not. I’ve got a cunt. Not a dick.
The door opens, and I stare straight ahead at the glass shower that stands next to the tub. My knees pulled up to my chest and my arms wrapped around them. The water is bloody from washing my body and hair. I don’t know what’s mine or my mother’s. It’s crazy that this is all that’s left of her.
“Come on, sweetheart. Your water is cold.” I hear Saint’s voice, but I don’t acknowledge him in any way. What’s the point?
He grabs the towel off the side of the tub and then his hands are on my arms. I allow him to lift me to stand and when my legs give out, he picks me up. Getting himself wet in the process as water drips from my trembling body.
He sets me on the edge of the tub and begins to dry me off. “You should have let him kill me,” I whisper.
His hand stops, the towel pausing on my legs. He’s kneeling in front of me but drops the towel. He stands to his full height, grips my chin, and shoves my head back, forcing me to meet his stare. “I took a vow to protect you.”
I snort at that bullshit lie. A Lord will tell you anything he wants you to hear and make you believe it. It’s one quality they have that makes them like any other man in this world. “You just don’t want to lose your toy.”
His hand lowers to my throat, and his grip tightens, restricting my air. He pulls me to stand. My lips part as I watch his eyes grow cold, sending a shiver down my spine.
“Sweetheart, I’ve been going easy on you. But that is about to change.” Letting go of my neck, I cough as he bends down and picks up the towel and continues to dry me off.
I stare at myself in the mirror in front of me where the his and her sinks are. I’m covered in bruises from Tyson and Miles. From being choked, slapped, and restrained. I feel as hollow as I look.
He tosses the towel to the side and runs his hand up into my hair, gripping it tightly. Then he opens the bathroom door and shoves me into his room.
I stumble to a stop when I see what looks like a smaller version of a hospital bed now by the window and something that resembles a gown wadded up on top of it. I spin around to face him. “Saint—”
“I’m sorry, sweetheart.” Reaching out, he cups my cheek. “But I’ll do whatever I have to do to keep you.”
“Wh-at?” My voice wavers due to the lump in my throat.
He looks over my head and nods, signaling to someone. Before I can react, an arm wraps around my throat from behind. I reach up to grip it, my nails digging into the muscular arm that takes my air away.
I’m lifted off my feet, and I kick and squirm as I’m spun toward the king-sized bed. They fall onto it, me underneath them. Their free hand covers my mouth and face, pinching my nose.
I buck and kick trying to get them off but they’re too heavy, suffocating me. “I’m sorry, baby girl.” I hear a familiar voice rasp in my ear. “I always thought you deserved better.”
My lungs burn, tears roll down my heavy eyes, and my hand fists the sheets. I’m trying to crawl away but can’t get anywhere. My feet kick nothing but air as he lies on top of me.
My body jerks involuntarily, trying to breathe. Dots start to dance across my vision. A soapy taste fills my mouth. My limbs grow heavy, my body abandoning the fight and giving up.
“That’s it, Ash,” Haidyn says softly. “That’s a good girl. Just relax, baby girl.”
I try to breathe, but all it does is suction his large hand to my wet face.
He rolls over onto his back. I think he’s going to let me go, but instead, he wraps his jean-clad thighs around mine, locking my legs in place.
I stare up at the ceiling while his arm tightens around my throat now that he’s got me in a better position like a snake and his hand remains covering my face.
My heavy arms begin to tingle, and they fall to my sides. My body sinks into his muscular one that lies under me. Fresh tears roll down the sides of my face before my eyes close. A calmness washes over me, accepting my fate. Maybe this was the plan all along. To kill me themselves.
SAINT
Haidyn slides out from underneath her, and Ashtyn’s head falls to the side. Her eyes are open but unfocused, and she sucks in a ragged breath.
“You could have sedated her,” he offers.
I shake my head. I know our fathers… “They want her awake.” I knew she’d never agree to what I have to do. I had to force her hand. It was my only option. I promised her after what she saw that I’d never hurt her. I didn’t think I’d break that promise so soon.
Picking up the heavy straitjacket that Jessie delivered, I walk over to her where she lies nearly unconscious. “Help me get her dressed.”
We place her arms into the front sleeves, and he jumps onto the bed to kneel behind her while we sit her up and secure her arms around her chest. She’s gasping, still trying to breathe but her body isn’t fighting. I didn’t want to hurt her. I knew the moment Ashtyn saw the straitjacket, she’d be reminded of what happened to the woman brought in by her husband. Having Haidyn choke her out was better than broken bones. They take too long to heal. Plus, she’s already going to have a long road to recovery, mentally and physically. She’s lost all of her family in one day. She thinks I’m all she has left, and I’m about to prove I’m not here to save her.
“Done,” Haidyn states after he’s finished buckling all the straps in the back. He gets up off the bed and I look over her.
The straitjackets Carnage uses are of the strongest material—both canvas and duck cloth. It’s not meant to protect those who wear it from themselves. Ours are meant to torment. The inside is made of burlap linings—to drive our prisoners crazy. So the more you fight, the more painful it will get.
We carry them in multiple sizes. They sent me the smallest one, and I made sure we put it on as tight as possible. Leaving it loose won’t do her any favors.
I had to put her in naked. Our fathers will know if she has clothes on. As much as I want her fully dressed, it just wasn’t an option. If our father’s think I’m going soft on her, they’ll take over. And I won’t let them harm her. I’d rather I do it than them. They’ll kill her because they don’t need her. At least, I’ll keep her alive.
Haidyn helps me lay her down on her back, and I grab the two straps between her legs out from underneath her. I pull them up tightly on either side of her cunt, buckling them below her crossed arms to the front. We have both styles: open crotch—two straps and closed—one strap. It just depends if we want it to keep something inside the person wearing it or leave it open for use.
Then I do the last one that runs vertically across her arms. She won’t be able to move.
“Come on, sweetheart.” I pick her limp body up and carry her over to the stretcher that Jessie also delivered while she was in the bathtub.
Once I lay her down, Haidyn spreads her legs wide to each side and buckles her ankles into the built-in medical restraints. The stretcher has a total of ten restraints. Her ankles, knees, and upper thighs, along with her chest and neck. She doesn’t need the wrist option since she’s in the straitjacket.
I do one across her chest and then one that wraps around her neck.
“Sa-int?” She coughs, body jerking.
I lean over, cupping her tear-streaked face and meet her heavy stare. “I love you, Ashtyn.” It’s the first time I’ve ever said those words out loud, to anyone. But I’ve felt it for years.
She arches her back the best the restraints allow and begs. “Please…”
“Remember that, sweetheart. I love you so much that I have to hurt you.”
She shakes her head, tears filling her pretty blue eyes. She’s starting to come back around, and my chest tightens. She’ll survive. But I can’t promise my love won’t be what kills us both. The Lords have taught me to fight until death to get what I want. I’ll do the same for her.
“Let… me go.” Her voice is rough from Haidyn choking her out. So she coughs trying to clear it. “Please…Saint. I just want to go home.”
My stomach knots at her words. This is her home now. There is nowhere else for her to go.
“Just let me go.” The stretcher shakes as she fights harder.
“Don’t hurt yourself.”
“Let me go.” She arches her neck, screaming before she breaks into a sob.
Haidyn taps my shoulder, and I look over at him to see he’s holding out the last piece of her outfit.
Taking it from him, I shove the large black rubber mouthguard into her mouth, making sure to position her lips around it. It’s to protect her teeth and tongue. It has a tube that sticks out the front so she can breathe through if need be.
“Help me out.” I bark at him as she goes feral. I’m afraid she’ll hurt herself. That’s for me to do.
He holds both sides of her face as I rip off the end of the duct tape that they obviously wanted me to use. He holds her head helping me as I wrap it around her head, covering everything from her chin to underneath her nose, making sure not to cover the hole in her mouth guard. Once done, I toss the tape to the side and go over to my nightstand and pull out what I need. Then I go back over to her, grip her taped cheeks, and bite the lid of the Sharpie and write on the tape.
They want me to make her mine? Then I’ll do just that.
I grab the blanket and toss it over the lower part of her body, so no one sees her as we push out of her room.
