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Gary Spaulding was trying to get my clothes off—an endeavor that was severely hampered by the thick polyester band uniform I was still wearing. The outer jacket was close fitting and had two long double rows of brass buttons that had to be unfastened completely before it would come off. As for the trousers that went with it, they had a hook and eye and a long, stiff zipper located on the side to avoid ruining the lines of the uniform.

The gray band uniform had a white stripe running up both sides, since gray and white were our school colors, and we had often cursed how difficult it was to get in and out of. Now I blessed the manufacturer who had decided that those double rows of buttons would be the perfect look. My foster father was fumbling with them, trying to get them open, but it was very slow going, which gave me time to find the longest sharpest shard of the broken mirror under my clothes.

The sharp edges of the glass were cutting into my fingers but I didn’t care. I was in a fight for my life at this point and I wanted to kill my attacker.

“God damn it!” Gary Spaulding growled at last, in frustration, giving up on the top of my band uniform. “Take this fucking thing off—I want to feel your tits, you little slut!”

“Feel this!” I snapped and brought the point of the mirror shard down in his face.

I meant to stab it right into his eye—maybe even pop it like a grape. But he must have seen the glint of the glass because he jerked aside at the last minute and I only carved a long, bloody scratch down the side of his face.

“You little bitch!” My foster father backhanded me as hard as he could. Then he grabbed my wrist and slammed my hand down on the wooden floor.

Stunned, my head ringing and my eyes watering, I lost my grip on the mirror shard and heard it tinkle on the dirty floor several feet away from me—too far for me to reach it with him still pinning my bottom half down.

Gary Spaulding was feeling his face. His eyes narrowed with fury when he saw the blood on his fingers.

“You cut me, you little cunt!” he snarled, glaring at me. “You’re gonna pay for that. Oh yeah, you’re gonna pay!”

“Let me go!” I gasped weakly. “Leave me alone!”

“Not until I get what I want!”

Grabbing me by the throat, he slammed my head down hard. I had no pillow and the foam padding was thin. It probably saved me from blacking out, but that was all it could do to mitigate the force of my foster father’s blow. An enormous pain shot through me as the back of my head connected with the floor and I suddenly saw two of the man kneeling over me.

This time Gary didn’t bother with my top. Instead, he started trying to get my band uniform bottoms off instead. And while the zipper was well hidden on the side, he did find it eventually.

With a guttural cry of triumph, he yanked the gray polyester trousers off me, revealing my plain white cotton underpants. He yanked those down too and I was too dizzy and weak with pain to stop him.

“Now you’re gonna get it, girly,” I heard him muttering eagerly as he opened his own trousers and pulled out his shaft. He splayed my legs wide and I saw that he wasn’t even going to use a condom.

“No!” I shouted…but it came out as more of a hoarse, unsteady whisper. I was still seeing double and I felt like I might be sick. “Condom…condom…” I managed to get out. If he was going to rape me, I at least didn’t want to fear getting pregnant from his assault. The thought of having Gary Spaulding’s baby inside me made me ill with horror.

For a moment my foster father sat back and I saw—in my blurry way—that he was considering what I had said. But after a moment, he shook his head.

“No—fuck that,” he growled. “I’ve waited too long. Gonna fuck your little foster pussy right tonight, you little slut! Don’t need a fucking condom!”

A sob rose in my throat and I closed my eyes, not wanting to see him do it.

Take yourself away, I told myself grimly. Go away someplace safe. Think of something else—anything else. Don’t look. Don’t l—

And then I heard a strangled gasp above me and a familiar voice said,

“You son of a bitch I told you not to touch her!”

I opened my eyes and saw two of Nick dragging two of Gary off of me. I blinked, willing my vision to clear. Had Nick’s eyes changed from green to gold? And were they actually glowing as brightly as two lamps in the darkness?


Tags: Evangeline Anderson Paranormal