I slink to the floor as my tears fall. I can’t save her.
I hear a slapping sound, and that motivates me to get my ass off the floor and run to the screen.
Liesel’s cheek is pink from where she was slapped.
Beckett steps up to her and slaps her.
I’m going to kill him.
And then I watch as a man slides his cock into my woman and I’m lost, so fucking lost.
Watching Waylon fuck her drove me mad—but this, this will change me in a way I haven’t even figured out yet.
Does watching her get punished like this wipe her clean of the greatest sin she could commit?
No.
But it does weaken me, make me feel like she’s suffered more than anyone. When I kill her, I’ll be merciful. I’ll make it painless and quick. Not torturous, like this.
This is pain.
There is only one time I’ve felt this much pain: when Liesel betrayed everything I thought I knew about her.
I never thought helplessly watching her put herself into a situation like this would make me feel anything for her. I thought my heart had closed to her permanently, but I was wrong.
This.
This…
It changes everything.
I have to win. I can’t let her endure more than this. I don’t know how many rounds are left, but if she doesn’t mutter her safe word now, I have to get her to early in the next round. I have to convince her. Hopefully, this experience will remind her to not push any further.
Maybe if I promise to give her the money when I win, she’ll stop?
I don’t know if she’ll believe me, but I have to try.
I can’t fucking go through this again.
I can’t.
I crumple to the floor, glued to the TV as my heart breaks more and more for the girl who used to live across the street from me. To the girl who, at one point in my life, meant everything. Maybe she means more to me now than I’ll ever admit to myself?
Tears continue to stream down my face. I realize that Beckett’s task is to repeat one of the men’s actions on Liesel. When there is nothing left for Beckett to repeat but fuck her, he says his safe word.
When he turns and looks at the camera, there are tears in his swollen eyes. He hardly even knows Liesel, and he’s a fucking mess.
I’m not going to survive this.
I scream my own safe word, wishing that I could make it stop, but no one is listening to me. No one will come.
I pray to God that this is fake, that this is all a show Liesel is putting on to show me how much I fucking care about her.
I know it’s not, but my brain is trying anything to make sense of this.
I’m broken.
I was already broken, but this—this is as bad as it gets.