broken (k.p.)

Spare Me

"Someone's going to die, Elle," He whispers. "And it's not going to be me, Klaus, or Brandon."

***

I hadn't been sitting here long with Jackson before Klaus and Brandon came back. Brandon looks bored while Klaus just looks pissed off.

"It's obviously taking them a long time to get here," He says through his teeth. "I have other things to do."

"Okay? What do you want me to do?" Jackson asks. Klaus glares at him.

"I don't care what you do with her as long as you don't kill her. Me and Brandon have to speak to Freya. We'll be back." Klaus replies before walking off and dragging Brandon with him. Jackson turns to me.

"You hear that, Elle? You're stuck with me for a few hours. And I have a million ideas rushing through my head." He whispers. I can feel myself literally gulp. Jackson smirks at me before he stands up, walking out of the room.

As soon as he leaves, I start tugging at the rope around my wrists. I can tell this isn't regular rope- Freya probably put a spell on it. I just have to reverse that spell, and I can get out of them. I can feel the rope burning my skin as I continuously move my wrists. I have my eyes close, ignoring the pain as I feel the rope start to give. My eyes immediately open as I feel a hand wrapped around my throat.

"No, you don't." Jackson whispers as he pushes me down, making me fall onto my back on the couch. He climbs on top of me, his hand continuing to stay choking me.

"Don't think you can escape so easily." Jackson says before he lets go of my neck, putting his hands on either side of my head.

"Fuck you." I whisper before I push myself up, trying to get him off of me. His hand travels to my chest, pushing me back down.

But he doesn't take his hand away.

He keeps it on my chest, just barely running his fingers over the hem of my bra.

I think I'm going to throw up.

"Get your fucking hands off of me." I can hear my voice crack.

He hasn't touched me like this since he forced himself on me when we first started dating. The memory keeps flashing in my brain, but I don't want to remember it.

Jackson's other hand goes behind his back, and he suddenly pulls out a knife, bringing it up to my face to run it along my cheek.

"You're going to be quiet." He whispers, barely pushing the knife against my cheek.

His hand leaves my chest, running down my bare body before he reaches the hem of my underwear, toying with it.

I can feel the tears start to pool in my eyes. Jackson sets down the knife and brings his hand up to my face.

"Don't cry. I'll make you feel great." He smirks. I let out a whimper. His face darkens.

"I don't want to have to make you be quiet, Elle." He threatens. I nod with tears starting to stream down my face.

His hand pulls my underwear down, and I can tell that he's pulling his pants down as well.

"Please, Jackson. Don't do this. Please, stop!" I yell out as soon as I feel him brush against my thigh. He lifts his hand up and slaps me, my face turning to the side.

"I told you to be quiet." He scolds before he leans over and grabs a roll of duct tape.

He rips a piece off and places it over my mouth, my noises becoming muffled. He lowers his hand to my thighs, gripping me so hard that I'm sure I'll have bruises.