Guardian (Sequel to Fearless)

Chapter Twenty Three

This was a nightmare. It continued to be a nightmare. The three friends spent what part of the day they had left together huddled in their room, hoping the world would forget about them --hoping with everything they had that no one would come for them tonight. For hours, they huddled together, speaking in whispers about happy things to distract themselves.

Right around evening-time, the nightmare began again. Their room, along with other girls' rooms, were cleared out. Girls and young women from everywhere were herded like cattle down the same hallways and stairwells that sent Cricket into hyperventilation every time. The hormones from pregnancy only made her panic worse.

Then, the room. The same gaudy red room she'd lost everything about herself in. It was open, augmented by black chandeliers and candles. At the same time as each other, they were all ushered to their usual, assigned spots and tied tightly over familiar tabletops --preventing any means of escape and any means of defense.

Cricket watched as everyone was tied. Sunny and Elizabeth were two tables over, and Cricket could barely see them from where she was --and that was a welcome relief. She'd never want to witness what was about to happen to them --to all of them.

The men would pay the baron outside for the service the girls were held captive for, and for hours on end, they would get what they payed for. Man after man after man... Cricket couldn't help but wonder which one of these nasty human beings was the father of her child.

It could've been Baron Riasion's. He got the first shot at everyone he managed to pull in before pawning them off to his mercenaries --or whoever else would pay for them. And it could've been the baby of any number of other faceless men too. Cricket had lost count of just how many had chosen her to be their entertainment. Over the course of her maturation, she'd been had hundreds of times.

Across the way from her, a woman whose face was known to Cricket appeared. After all the time in this wretched room, Cricket had never known her name --had never known her as anything other than "the fighter". Everyone else in the room had been broken --had been tormented until they'd accepted their fate. But not this woman. Every time, they'd have to drag her in kicking, biting, and screaming. The fighter had not given up. Ever.

Sure enough, they had to wrestle her down to the table once again. Cricket just watched as they finally managed to break her and rope her down to her spot. Usually, the woman would spend the rest of the night looking angry, seeming to remember and channel every wrong that had ever been done to her. She would say no words, make no sound --give none of the perpetrators the satisfaction of hearing her scream. She would just fuel her rage.

But tonight, something was entirely different about her. Once the guards left her side, she looked up at Cricket --really looked at her. It was the first time that this fighter woman had ever met her gaze. The nameless woman's eyes were filled with serenity, an absolute peace that Cricket had not understood for a long time.

The first batch of men came in. Cricket did as she usually did; she tried her best to disconnect her body from her mind. She would deaden herself to all emotion and feeling. She heard the noise of boots and was thankful she'd never have to see the faces. But she saw the fighter's face. She saw the man that approached behind the fiery woman too.

Cricket did her best to not feel what was going on behind her. As she focused all thought on the mysterious girl facing her... something happened. The man that huddled over the fighter and roughly used her body stopped immediately after he started, and Cricket watched from her spot as his face went a shade of pale white.

He howled. Loudly. The woman shifted backwards and he shrieked even louder, stopping all activity in the room. Cricket didn't understand. The man tried vigorously to get away... but something kept him held right in place. He shook, but each movement sent more bellows ripping through the air.