Page 50 of Drowning

I breathe heavily, feeling panic surging through me as little beads of sweat form on my brow.

He tried to shoot me. I mean, fuck, he shot me, but there wasn't a bullet in there.

"I told you that I'd pull the trigger if you didn't listen. Did you think I was fucking joking?" He brushes his lips across my cheek and presses his cock into my stomach, slowly easing the gun out of my mouth.

He opens the gun and spins it, showing me that, in fact, there are bullets in the gun—two, to be exact.

"You wanna play a little Russian roulette, I see. Well, baby, I'm fucking game," he laughs coldly, putting the gun back between my lips. "Now give me your fucking hand." He glares at me, his eyes dark and diabolical.

Fearing him, I comply, giving him my hand so he can secure it to the post.

I squeeze my eyes shut as he works his pants off, feeling his naked body against mine. He violently rips my thighs open as much as he can since my pants are still half on, and he maneuvers between them, guiding his cock to my pussy. I squirm, trying to fight him off, but he slides the gun outof my mouth and hits me across the forehead, drawing blood immediately.

"You wanna play another round?"

"No, Damon," I cry, refusing to look at him. "Please don't do this."

"It's too late for all of this begging shit. You're fucking mine, Emerson, not Seven's, not Kane's,no one's." He licks the blood dripping from my forehead, groaning in satisfaction. "You know what's funny?" he asks, and I can tell I'm not going to like the answer just from the tone of his voice. "I had no idea that it was me who hit and killed your parents until I watched my dash cam footage the next morning." He forcefully thrusts into me, painfully ripping through my pussy.

My jaw drops, and my entire body stiffens, tears filling my eyes until everything I look at is blurry. I ignore the fact that he's inside of me, taking what he wants. I focus on his admission, feeling my heart shatter all over again.

He was the hit-and-run. He was the drunk driver who ran into them, killed them, and then took off. It was Damon.

I gasped in shock and disbelief, feeling sick to my stomach at the revelation. All this time, the person I had been in love with was the person responsible for my parents' deaths. The intense hatred I felt towards Damon welled up inside me, intensifying with every thrust he made.

But at the same time, I knew I had to play this smart. I had to get through this and lull him into a false sense of security.

Damon continued his sickening assault, the weight of his body pressing down on me, taunting me with his cruel laughter. My mind raced with possibilities, each second feeling like an hour. As if sensing my hesitation, Damon tightened his grip on the gun, pressing it into me even harder, a twisted smirk dancing on his lips.

Despite the fear coursing through my veins, I knew I had to be strong. I couldn't let him break me. I had to find a way out of this, no matter what it took.

So with a gun to my head and my wrists tightly bound to the bed, I just laid there while he ruined me, praying through every vicious thrust he delivered that an opportunity would come for me to escape.

twenty-eight

Missing Posters

S e v e n

"I've got her!" Eli screams, running over to us as we gather in the back of the bar, still trying to track down a lead on Emerson's whereabouts.

I look up from my laptop, my heart thundering against my ribs. "Where?" I ask, my shaky hands trying to rest on the keyboard.

"I don't know. She called me, though; it's still connected," he says winded, out of breath as he hands me his phone so I can start a trace on it.

Working diligently to find a ping that'll tell us where she's at. There's nothing but silence on the other end, but the call is still connected, so I focus even harder. While the program does itsjob to triangulate her location, I fiddle with my hands in my lap as everyone gathers around me and holds their breath.

"How fucking long does it take?" A frustrated Eli growls behind me as he paces with lead feet.

"Try to relax, brother. This shit takes time, but it'll work." I force a smile as I turn around to face him, trying hard to believe my own words.

"I'm finished with the missing posters," Ace speaks softly, his voice full of worry and concern.

"Just hold off. Let's see if we can find her with Seven's program."

The tension in the bar is heavy and palpable as we wait for any indication of Emerson's location. After what feels like an eternity, the program finally comes up with a result. "Got it!" I exclaim, relief flooding through me as I relay the coordinates to the rest of the group.

Without a moment to lose, we all spring into action, racing out of the bar and piling into our cars. We speed through the streets, following the directions provided by the GPS, until we finally reach a rundown apartment building deep in the ghetto of Southie.