Safe Haven ↠ h.s

Chapter Fifty-One

"Harry!" I yell. "Harry!"

Martin stays still, watching me with an evil, sexual glint in his eyes. He stands in front of the mirror, facing me. My eyes continue to dart around. Anxiety begins to fill my chest, my heart pumping so fast that it feels as if it's being bruised. My stomach tightens with angry, psychopathic butterflies that feel like they're eating me from the inside out. My vision is starting to go blurry.

"Harry!" I yell again. Martin's brown eyes are imprinting in my skull again and I don't know if I'll be able to handle it.

"Stop yelling his name, it's giving me a headache. He's not here anymore. So why don't you calm down, breathe easy, and come to Daddy."

I lurch forward, all traces of the vodka I downed splattering all over a rack of dark green silk gowns. I nearly fall forwards as I try to get away but a pair of large, gritty hands wrap around my hips and yank me backwards. A sensation of helplessness hits me as my legs flail freely in the air. Pain shoots through my skull as I accidentally bash my head against a metal pole whole struggling to get away from him. Immediately, I go limp.

He's gone?

Harry's gone?

Tears begin to stream down my face, both the pain and fear blurring my vision. My heart thrashes against my chest but my legs won't move anymore. Martin puts me down but I immediately drop to my knees, more pain spreading through my chest as I collapse harshly onto the wooden floors. Holy fuck, my boobs are killing me now.

"What do y-youu mean, h-he's gone?"

"He's gone, butterfly. Tops or bottom?"

"That doesn't make s-sense!" I cry, terrified.

"You saw the girl at the register? She's gone, too."

My heart drops into my stomach. Immediately, a wail leaves my lips louder than anything I've ever heard. Tears immediately begin pouring down my face faster than anytime I've ever cried. Not even the first time I was raped, or the most violent I cried like this. The pain is my chest is so real that I actually look down my dress to see if I'm bleeding. His words created an illusion so realistic that it clawed its way through my skin and organs, grabbed my heart, and yanked it out. Yet I can still feel it - the ghost of my heart, at least, but the pain is real.

"No!" I scream. "No! He's not! No! Stop lying! You're fucking with my head!"

"Top or bottom?" He asks again, now leaning over my limp body. He nearly spoons me as his lips reach my ear. I'm urged to vomit again at his touch.

"Neither," I cry harshly, breath knocked out of my lungs. "Let me go."

"C'mon, my little butterfly, let's have some fun. It's been too long." He smirks at me through the mirror.

"You killed Harry!" I screech. "You deserve to rot in hell for the rest of eternity! I hope you get raped over and over and over and over again, until the pain is so festeringly painful that you beg for forgiveness! You'll suffer for the rest of your days, I swear it!" My voice is rough, throat dry from screaming and crying.

I freeze again as his hands cup my ass, groping them with as much strength and effort as if it were the last thing he'd touch before he died. It isn't even remotely pleasureful - it feels like he could actually be bruising me. I sob quietly. His hands trail down the lacy fabric, taking me by surprise as he yanks the hem and instantly rip it. It splits all the way up my thigh, revealing the black lace panties that just happened to match my dress.