Chapter 29~ Training

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Chapter 29

I couldn't tell if my eyes were open, not with the thick, inky black clouding everything around me. The burnt aroma of cigarette smoke filled my nose, and all the little hairs on my arms stood on end.

"You crossed a line, Jessie." Drake's voice echoed from somewhere behind, just as dark and twice as terrifying.

I froze, too afraid to move. My heart, however, tried to run. It beat against my ribs in frantic, desperate attempts to break free.

"What do you think I should do?" His footsteps slowly approached, like a pendulum. Tap. Tap. Tap.

I tensed, readying myself for what I knew was coming. The smell of the smoke grew stronger, and my back burned in anticipation. A traitorous whimper slipped past my lips.

Not again.

"Are you afraid?" It was fun for him. Every time. Always. So much fun.

I knew not to fight back, not to run, not to call out for help. It would only make it worse. The sick fuck would only enjoy it more.

His steps drew to a stop right beside me. His body heat seemed too warm, his familiar scent too strong. It was the same cologne he always wore, but to me, it smelled like pain.

"You fucked up extra bad this time, Jessie." The fury I knew laid just beneath his surface leaked out into the words. "You fucked up really fucking bad..." Rough hands yanked my shirt up.

I squeaked and huddled in on myself. Be small. Be a harder target. Protect your face. It was always the same. It would always come back to this. There was no escape.

"You know..." he started. "Every time you force me to do this, it only makes me angrier." He ran his palm across my skin, tracing each scar. "You think I like fucking up my things?" The cherry of the cigarette made contact, sizzling as its red, hot fire sunk into my already mangled back.

My teeth pierced my lip as I bit back a scream.

"You think I enjoy making you uglier and uglier?" Again, different spot, same agonizing burn. It was too much. I lost the battle. My screams broke free and echoed out into the darkness.

Drake chuckled. "I do love to hear you scream, though."

Again, harder this time, right into the fresh ink, excruciating. Burning plastic wrap and flesh filled my nose, choked me. I screamed again, louder, so hard my throat could bleed.

"Tequila!" Bard call out, distant, far away, too far away to help.

"He can't save you, you know. I'm going to kill him. Hell! I'm gonna kill all of them, and you're going to watch. Maybe, I'll even have you help." Again, right onto the healing tattoo. The sizzle all too familiar. The pain too much. Another  anguished scream ripped out of me.

"Tequila!" Someone shook me.

I woke with a start. Bard looked down at me, eyes wide, a cigarette hanging loosely from his lips.

I scrambled away from the offending item and backed into the far wall.

Bard held up his hands. "It's okay. You were having another nightmare." His voice was soft, like how someone would coax a frightened animal.

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