He only laughs as he brings the knife down, down, down to my throat. I gasp, holding my breath, my eyes trained on the blade. I can’t make a move, or else he’ll stick me. That’s how close the blade is to my skin.
Instead of slicing me, he slices my shirt, then opens it. His mouth is open as his breath comes in short, ragged little gasps. It would be hideous enough without his face being the way it is.
“You don’t know what it does to a man to go so long without something he wants. I’ve had way too much time to imagine this—all the things we would do together once I had you alone.” He slides the knife under my bra strap, and I try not to whimper, but I can’t stop myself. One quick jerk and it’s cut, the same with the other strap.
Finally, he slides the blade under the strip of satin between the bra cups. I get the sense that he’s savoring this, taking his time, letting all the sick fantasies he’s ever had about me run through his head before he slices my bra open.
I hate that he’s looking at me. Tears roll down the sides of my face as he stares at my tits. “Fucking perfect,” he grunts. I want to put that knife in his dick. I want to use it to pull his eyeballs out. More than anything, I want to die of shame.
He reaches out, and I watch in growing horror as he comes closer to my nipple. No, no, no—it plays on repeat in my head as I try with all my might to pretend this isn’t happening—even when he touches me, when his fingers close over my nipple and tweak it until I scream.
My high-pitched cry echoes through the small cabin, making my ears hurt. I hope it would make him stop, but he’s only getting more excited. I see his tiny dick getting hard, jutting out over my stomach. His breathing is faster, sharper. My stomach clenches, and I have to fight off the vomit trying to race into my throat. I don’t even think it would stop him if I threw up all over both of us. He’d probably make sure to hurt me more to punish me for it.
“I want you to call me Daddy.” He starts to tug at my pants. “I want you to call me Daddy while I fuck you.”
“Oh, my God, no!” I have to stop this. I have to get away. I’ll break the ropes, or I’ll kick him as he’s taking off my pants. I’m going to find a way out of it. I have to. This can’t happen. I’m screaming and sobbing, begging and sweating, and he’s loving it. All of it.
Until the window breaks.
We both freeze, eyes moving to where the glass suddenly burst inward. Could it be? Did he come for me?
A second later, I get my answer. The door flies open, and Knox storms in with another man, one of his brothers. I don’t care who he brought so long as he’s here and he’s saving me. “Knox!” I sob in relief while Dale sputters and curses.
Knox sizes up the situation in a single glance, then throws himself toward the bed and tears Dale off me. Dale hits the floor, his knife skittering across the wood planks. He’s dazed, obviously. I think he might’ve hit his head when Knox launched him.
“Hey, you’re okay. You’re safe now. I’m Ace, Knox’s brother.” Ace unties my wrists, and I work my way to a sitting position while Knox pulls up one of the wooden chairs on the other side of the room. Dale’s fat, but Knox is strong. He puts Dale in the chair with no trouble.
“Here.” Ace gets my attention and drapes his jacket over my shoulders. I must be in shock because I just now realize my tits are out.
“Thank you,” I mutter, but my eyes stay glued on Knox.
He leans in until their noses are almost touching. “I told you, didn’t I? I told you I’d finish the job. But you couldn’t let it go, could you? You couldn’t keep your fucking head down and mind your own fucking life. No.”
He points at me without looking my way. “You had to fuck with what’s mine. Nobody fucks with what’s mine and gets away with it. You hear me?” He slaps Dale upside the head. “Answer me, you fucking prick. You sick son of a bitch.”
“Fuck you,” Dale snarls, which only gets him a backhand. His lip splits again, and fresh blood oozes down over his chin.
“That was the wrong answer, Dale.” Knox laughs when Dale tries to get up from the chair, as if somebody of his size—not to mention age—could outrun a younger, fitter man. Especially one as enraged as the one standing in front of him.
He looks at me, and the pain in his eyes reflects the pain I’m feeling. “What did he do to you?”
“Not much. Yet.” I glare at Dale, remembering what he said. “He was going to rape me and make me call him Daddy.” Ace flinches as he stands next to the bed, and I tuck the jacket closer.
Knox snarls, then turns back to Dale and smashes a fist into his face. “Oh, really? You think it’s okay to rape women? Your own stepdaughter? How sick do you have to be to even think about shit like that?” This time, he punches Dale in the stomach and makes him double over.
“Come on. I should get you out of here.” Ace reaches for me, but I shake my head.
“I want to stay.” I look at Knox, hoping he agrees with me. “Yes. I need to watch this.” The brothers exchange a look.
Knox turns back to Dale. “Fair enough. I guess she deserves to watch this after everything you’ve done to her.”
He then reaches into his back pocket. Dale gasps when he sees the blade protruding from the handle. I don’t gasp, but my eyes do go wide at the sight of it.
He’s going to kill him. He’s actually going to do it.
I want him to. The feeling is so strong, so real. I want him to do it, and I want to watch every second.
Dale’s mouth falls open. “No. No, no, you’re not gonna do this. You’re trying to scare me, is all. Fine. I’ll leave her alone from now on. Okay? Is that what you want?”