Fragment

Chapter 2-2

My body is no longer able to contain the excessive amounts of alcohol I consumed tonight. The acidic burn of the previously fruity concoctions spew out from between my trembling lips, taking my dignity with it to the stained carpet below. I continue to heave off the side of the bed as Alec simultaneously thrusts into me with grunts of pleasure.

My head falls back on the bed when the vomiting has ceased. I can feel my body rocking back and forth, but all other feeling is gone. My brain hazy, I allow it to retreat and take my conscious state with it. I stare above me at the ceiling.

I have nothing left.

My fight is gone, forced out with all the self-worth I have worked hard for my entire life.

All eighteen years of trying to be someone of value is gone—dead. I’m weak and alone in my personal walls of hell.

Alec’s groans become white noise in the disconnected surroundings as my conscious retreats further within. My body continues to thrust up and fall back down in a hurried frenzy of movement, but now it’s almost calming, like a rocking ship in a tormented sea. With each upward assault, I count in my head.

One. Up. Two. Up. Three. Up. Four. Up. Five. Up. Six.

My mind focuses on the numbers, and the counting comes with more welcomed detachment.

A small c***k is next to the light fixture, and it’s working its way toward the corner of the room. I stare at it, studying it closely. The thin c***k weaves across the ceiling in a haphazard fashion, yet it seems determined to reach its destination.

I can’t feel anything now. I feel no pain. I feel no pleasure. There’s nothing but the paralyzing numbness now radiating throughout every muscle, every bone.

I block out the grunts and the sound of skin-on-skin slapping, only focusing on the welcoming sound of a calming buzz vibrating from within my ears and the c***k in the ceiling.

I’m aware of my tepid tears streaming down my face, carrying bits of my soul with them.

Tears falling down my face.

Buzzing in my ears.

Crack on the ceiling.

Black hole of nothing.

Tears.

Buzzing.

Crack.

Black hole.

Nothing.

Nothing.

Nothing.

Nothing.

I awake and open my eyes. I am lying on my side in a bed facing an unfamiliar wall.

Where am I?

My eyes are down to slits and my head is throbbing. I can feel pain between my legs. Terror flashes then invades my mind and body as the memories come back to me.

No. No. No. Oh my God, no!

I lie completely still, not wanting to bring it to anyone’s attention that I’m awake. I become aware of something against my back. It’s soft and round, moving up and down my spine. I hear hushed, deep moaning. I feel the mattress rocking slightly in a rhythm. Panic explodes through me, and I force my eyes closed as I remain still.

Stay still, Cam. Stay still. Breathe slowly. Stay still.

I go into preservation mode, biting my tongue to keep out the cry and willing myself to appear asleep. A deep groan permeates my surroundings followed by a sudden warmness hitting my back.

Stay still!

Tears roll down my face as the warm, sticky substance falls from my back onto the mattress. I have to fight the urge to vomit again as all my inner strength is focused on forcing myself into my complete stillness.

Many minutes later I hear the rhythmic breathing from the person behind me, indicating sleep.

Okay, I need a game plan. Get up quickly and quietly. Find my purse and get the hell out of here. Where is the door in relation to where I am? I think it’s directly behind me. Is it? Where did I leave my purse? I don’t remember leaving it anywhere. Did I drop it during everything? Alec must have taken it from me.

My chest vibrates from the pounding of my heart within.

Oh my God. Oh my God...focus.

Squeezing my eyes closed, I attempt to halt the fresh tears from falling. I just need to hold it together enough to get out of here. Please? God, please? Please? Please? Please? I beg. Just let me get out of here. My heart is hammering in a nervous, frenzied rhythm.

I can do this.

One. Two.

Deep breath.

Three. Four. Five.

Focus.

Six. Seven. Eight.

Focus.

I will my breathing to calm but it’s as if I can’t get enough air in. My lungs burn, but I continue to take shallow breaths. I listen carefully and the only sounds I hear are of people sleeping, the light snoring resonates throughout the room. I open my eyes and slowly slide my feet to the floor. I pull my dress that’s bunched up above my breasts, down.

Please. Please. Please! Don’t let anyone wake up. Please don’t let anyone hear me!

My heart is racing, and all I can hear is the thrum emitting from my chest. I stand up as quietly as I can and turn. I’m frozen in place as I take in the scene before me.

One of Alec’s friends is lying behind me with his c**k hanging out of his pants. The evidence of his pleasure lies in a goopy pile on the comforter right behind where I just was. Oh my God. Bile fills my mouth and I swallow hard, feeling it burn down my throat.

Alec and his other friend are sprawled out on the opposite bed, both sound asleep. I scan the room for my purse and see it on the night table next to them. I tiptoe around the foot of the bed toward the small table, every miniscule sound from my feet sliding across the grungy carpet echoing through my ears like church bells. My heart is beating rapidly and I’m so nervous that I’m holding my breath. I reach for my purse, and as I grab it, I feel a strong grasp around my wrist. My body immediately stiffens, and although I try to breath, I can’t get air into my lungs. Terror chokes me and invades every pore.

Fuck! No! No! No! No!

I raise my eyes to meet Alec’s sleepy gaze.

Oh God, no.

“Hey, beautiful. Are you ready for round two?” He asks through a yawn.

His term of endearment makes me want to crumble into a slobbering mess on the ground. The word, now tainted with such ugliness, renders me physically sick. From his lips, it’s now a threat, a promise that causes acid in the recesses of my belly to bubble and burn.

Willing my voice to remain even, I say, “I just need my purse, Alec.” My heart’s wild tempo is increasing.

“Hmm…I don’t know, baby. I feel like I deserve a trade. What are you going to give me?”

I hate him. My mind is racing wildly. Think fast, Cam.

Desire to hurt him courses through me, and my eyes quickly scan the room for objects I could use. A lamp? A chair? No. These thoughts aren’t going to help me.

Even now, after last night, I can’t find the courage to physically hurt him. I want him to hurt badly, the way he hurt me, and maybe someday he will. But it won’t be from me. Outweighing my need for revenge is my need to escape, to save myself from another round of misery at the hands of this man—this monster.

Mustering every ounce of courage I have, I speak as evenly as I can. “I’ll give you a blow job.”

“What?” Alec remarks in surprise.

“I’ll suck your d**k, if you let me have my purse. Seriously.” The words burn as they leave my lips. I inhale and exhale audibly. “Unbutton your jeans and pull them down.” I work to keep my voice steady.

Alec pauses momentarily, most likely gauging my sincerity. My gaze doesn’t waver from his. I work to calm my body and convey my resolve through my expression. I’m screaming in dread inside, but I hope my eyes communicate the opposite to Alec.

He nods slightly, giving me a sly smile. “I knew you’d come around, baby.” His grasp around my wrist releases, and his hands reach for the button on his jeans.

I bite my lip so hard that my mouth fills with the metallic taste of my blood, and I wait. Mere seconds slow to a painful eternity as he lifts his hips off of the bed and shimmies down his jeans.

Yet, still I wait.

Then, the very moment his pants hit his calves, I grab my purse, turn, and run as fast as I can toward the door. I can’t feel my legs beneath me. There is barely room in my pounding head for logic to tell them to move, to run faster. Regardless, they act on their own accord as they carry me hastily toward the exit—toward freedom.

I turn the handle of the door, my sweaty palm slipping on the metal lever. Crap! I bear down, grasping the knob with desperation, begging for it to turn. I need to open it. I have to get out. Relief encompasses me as it starts to open, but the split-second of liberation I feel abandons me when the door stops after opening only a couple of inches. I look up to see it’s caught on the chain lock.

Shit!

I slam the door shut, my heartbeat pulsing in my ears. My hands tremble as my fingers work to unhook the chain. After a bone-chilling eternity that fits into the space of several heartbeats, the chain falls slack against the door and I throw it open.

Please don’t let me feel his hands on me.

Please let me get away.

I’m so afraid that he’s going to stop me at any second. I bolt from the room as fast as my feet will carry me without looking back. Tears fall from my eyes as my heart races, and I run.

I don’t stop until I make it to the front desk. An older man with gray hair looks up from his newspaper. His eyes bulge when he sees me.

Hysterically I cry out, “I need a taxi!”

My body is shaking so violently I feel I will just crumble apart. I glance behind me, terrified of finding Alec. I can’t stay in this hotel for another second. Before the man at the front desk can answer, fear propels me out the exit. I hit the sidewalk bordering the main drag of hotel chains and I sprint as quickly as I can from the hotel, distancing myself from the monster who resides within.

I run until my legs feel like jelly and my sides burn and ache with pain. I stop and lean against a metal light pole, inhaling deeply and gasping for the breath I am struggling to find. Terrified, I peer behind me. I don’t see anyone coming, so I take a step forward to the curb and raise my arm, flagging down a passing taxi.

I fall onto the slick seat of the cab. My shaking legs stick to the plastic-coated surface as I tell the driver the name of my hotel. I bring my legs up to my chest, wrapping my arms around them. I bury my face against my sticky skin, blocking out the world around me. My entire body quivers, and my brain works to register the unpleasant sensations coursing through me—fear and adrenaline, along with pain screaming the loudest beneath my skin.

My hotel room is vacant when I enter. Lexi apparently is still at her sleepover with Gage. I close the door and lock it before heading to the bathroom. I tear off my dress and throw it into the garbage. I stand n***d in front of the mirror, taking in the reflection of a girl I no longer know. I don’t recognize the person staring back at me. She is ugly and dirty. Her rat’s nest hair falls around her puffy, tear-streaked, red face. Her makeup has transformed into black raccoon eyes with streaks of mascara trailing down her cheeks. Red marks are all over her body with purple bruises forming on her arms. She has dried bloodstains running from her inner thighs to her knees. She looks sad and empty. The sight of her repulses me. I watch, detached, as the girl clutches her belly with both hands as her stomach lurches with the need to expel the ugliness.

I can’t believe I let this happen. It’s all my fault. If I had used an ounce of my brain, I never would have found myself in a position for this to happen. I’m so stupid. I deserved this for being so incredibly senseless. I should have known better. I do know better. What was I thinking?

The thoughts circle in my head in a constant litany, like a children’s rhyme that has gone evilly wrong.

I step into the scalding stream of the shower. Closing my eyes, I lift my face into the water, letting it pelt my skin. I hesitantly lower my head and peer down at my body as the water carries away the evidence. I need the stains and smells off me.

Grabbing the soap, I violently scrub over every inch of my skin, pressing so firmly that my skin burns. When I reach between my legs to wash, the sting is acute, focused and burning. I cry out in pain.

I double over, acidic bile projecting from my mouth. I pray that I’ll be able to forget the sights, sounds, and smells of the past few hours, but I know I never will. This incident in my life will change me forever. I know that no matter how hard I try, I will never be the same girl I was yesterday. The person I was when I arrived in Mexico is gone now, and she will never be back. Everything good in me was pushed out by force. I don’t know how I’ll find the strength to get past this. Maybe I never will.

I fall to my knees, sobs racking my body as I wail into the dark, lonely shower. My body convulses as I cry, now in a fetal position on the floor of the shower. I lie there on the ceramic floor of the tub, being pelted by water that has now grown cold for minutes, maybe hours. All my skin is wrinkly and raw, but I still can’t get rid of the creepy feelings plaguing every surface of my body. My belly burns as I dry-heave on the shower floor, but I have nothing left to come out. I have nothing left at all. I’m empty. I lost everything.

The water trails across my skin as the memories and sensations from last night linger and haunt me. I cry out again, a terrifyingly lonely sound from the knowledge that they always will.