Chapter 15

Ophelia

We stayed in bed all day, dreading the confrontation that would surely arise. We played a few games of checkers, but mostly we just sat in silence. We couldn't stay holed up in that room forever, though, and Alex finally went to feel things out when early evening set in.

Minutes passed like hours as I sat on the mattress and listened for the argument to begin, but instead of shouting and destruction, I only heard birds twittering outside the window. When he returned, he had a puzzled look on his face.

"He's not here," he said, running his hand through his hair.

"Where would he go? Is he in the basement with Sam?"

He shook his head. "No, the door's still bolted shut. I have no idea."

As if to end our confusion, the front door slammed and heavy footsteps stomped through the front of the house. Moments later, the sound of clanging pans was followed by the scent of burning food.

"Is he cooking?" I asked.

"I don't think he knows how to cook. We'd better get out there and see what's up. Maybe he has Sam in the kitchen."

He dressed me and made sure I was buttoned to the top to avoid drawing Gunnir's attention when we left the room. The moment we stepped into the kitchen, Gunnir shot us a merry greeting.

"Glad you two could finally join me," he said as he piled burned eggs onto a couple of plates.

Alex and I exchanged a quick glance before I turned my attention to the charred globs and wished I'd been commanded to cook the breakfast. At least it would have been palatable.

"Have a seat, girl," Gunnir said as he gestured toward a chair with the spatula.

The hair on my neck stood on end. He never allowed me to eat with them, let alone take a seat at the table. I needed to obey, however, so I did as I was told and sat in the chair he'd chosen. My eyes flitted around the room, searching for a sign of the plan he had up his sleeve.

Eggshells littered the counter, and a haze of smoke hung in the air. A black mess coated the pan he'd used to char the eggs, and it would take a week's worth of elbow grease to get it clean again. Gunnir walked over and threw a plate of dark, sticky eggs in front of me. My eyes rolled up his body, lingering on the unclipped strap slapping against his belly as he stepped back. I tried to avoid looking at his hideous face, but I was drawn up to his mouth. It tilted at the corners in an uneven, sadistic smile. He reached over and nudged the fork toward me.

I lifted the food to my mouth and tried to hold back a grimace when charcoal coated my tongue. After reminding myself to be grateful, I swallowed. This was probably more than Sam had gotten all day. If she got anything at all.

Alex ate as much of the noxious eggs as he could, but Gunnir didn't dig in with his usual gusto. Instead, he picked around his plate and kept glancing at Alex. I worried the eggs might have been poisoned. It would have been an easy way to cut me from the equation. Then again, I didn't really care to be part of their fucked-up math problem, so I kept eating.

The mumble of fuzzy daytime television drifted from the living room, but the meal was otherwise silent. When Alex finished eating, Gunnir finally spoke.

"Got a deer this afternoon," he said to Alex. "I need you to dress it so we can get the meat in the freezer before it spoils."

Alex lowered his fork and glanced at me.

"Quit worrying about her," Gunnir said with a grin. "I swear on the Bruggar name that I won't lay a hand on her. Just dress the fucking deer so we can feed ourselves. It's out back, close to the bend in the creek. Can't miss it."

Alex slid the chair away from the table and got to his feet. "You didn't bother dragging it closer to the house?" He shook his head. "Of course you didn't," he mumbled.

I didn't like where this was going, but Alex didn't seem too worried. Gunnir said he wouldn't lay a hand on me, and that left no room for argument as far as he was concerned. If I tried to argue, it would only show Gunnir how much I trusted Alex, and that would be bad for both of us.

Alex put on a jacket and went to the door, daring to look at me one more time before leaving the house. I pleaded with my eyes. Without words, I begged him to find some reason to stay.

But he left.

Gunnir went to the kitchen window and watched until Alex's figure disappeared into the trees. "This will do," he said as he pulled something from behind the fridge and pointed it toward me; it was a long rod with two points at the end. "I said I wouldn't lay a hand on you, but I don't need hands to make you move. Get up." He pressed a button, and a loud clicking sound erupted from the points, jumping together in a bright arc of electricity.

I looked out the window and considered screaming for Alex. He wasn't too far off, but Gunnir's weapon was closer. Instead of calling for help, I stood on shaking legs and waited for my next command.

Gunnir motioned toward the hall, talking as we walked. "You like sleeping with Alex in a nice comfy bed, huh? Spoiled girl."

I shook my head.

"Sure you do. I saw you two, all curled up in each other's arms. It was so dang sweet." Gunnir snatched my chain, bringing me to a halt in front of the bathroom as his smile morphed into a frown. "I'll show you a nice little bed, girl. Get in the tub."

I swallowed. "I don't understand," I whispered as I stepped into the bath. I was so fucking confused.

He gripped the chain and snatched me into a sitting position. "Unbutton your shirt," he whispered as he squatted beside the tub. When I didn't, he brought the tip of the cattle prod into view. Fear overtook my nervous system, and my hands hurried to unfasten each button until I'd fully exposed myself. Gunnir groaned at the sight of my chest. "Shrug outta it. I don't want it getting all wet."

Wet?

I removed my shirt and drew my knees to my chest to hide my breasts.

"Boxers too," Gunnir said as he motioned to the underwear concealing what I desperately wanted to keep hidden. I slipped them off and pulled my knees to my chest once more, but my legs could only cover so much.

Gunnir undid his remaining strap, and his overalls fell and bunched at his knees. He stood beside me, his belly hanging past his dingy white underwear. His hand went for his small, limp cock, and another bolt of fear tore through me. I was too scared to move, so I dropped my gaze and tried to ignore the hardening dick beside my head. I waited for him to grab me and put himself in my mouth, and my stomach lurched with disgust at the impending intrusion. Alex couldn't save me this time.

Warm liquid splashed my skin, focusing on my chest, and a pungent scent filled my nose. The stream moved toward my head, soaking my hair in a waterfall of urine. My stomach climbed into my throat and up came the eggs, which tasted worse the second time around. Warm piss and chunks of vomit coated my chest and collected between my legs. I couldn't even open my mouth to cry out because if I did, his piss would worm its way onto my tongue. I could only cover my head with my arms to protect my eyes and nose. I called to Alex in my mind, wishing he hadn't left me, begging him to save me.

Please...

* * *

Alexzander

I'd intentionally "forgotten"my hunting knife in a drawer in the kitchen so I had a reason to return, but I still had to make it believable. Gunnir needed to think I'd gotten all the way to the deer carcass before realizing I'd left it behind. I waited at the edge of the woods, listening for a scream or a scuffle inside the house, but the silence was more unnerving than a shout for help. Adrenaline built up in my muscles until I had to move. I had to know she was safe from him.

I ran toward the house and steadied my breathing as I opened the front door. They weren't in the living room or the kitchen, and the basement door was still bolted shut. I stopped and listened. Odd sounds drifted from the hall, and when I turned the corner, I saw what was causing the noise. Gunnir's overalls were around his knees, and he was pissing into the bathtub. He groaned, a hand on his hip as the stream sputtered out and ended. Only once he took a step back did I see Ophelia, naked and curled into a terrified ball. She was soaked.

"What the fuck?" I asked. It was all I could think to say.

Gunnir held his hand toward Ophelia, showcasing his handiwork as if he'd just painted a masterpiece with his dick. "Just showing the girl here what kind of bed she deserves."

So I'd been right. He'd seen us asleep in the bed.

Gunnir put his arm around my shoulder and reached toward my fly. I knocked his hand away and lost my footing on the slick floor, but his grasp on my neck kept me on my feet. His hand reached for my fly again, but I shook my head.

"Piss on her," Gunnir snarled.

My head never stopped shaking. Not until he pulled the cattle prod from behind the toilet. For being as big and stupid as he was, he wasn't a complete moron. He was intelligent as hell when it came to torture.

I didn't care. I'd take the prod. I refused to piss on her.

Instead of turning the weapon toward me, the humming crackle moved toward Ophelia. She screamed, her body trembling as the prod inched closer to her bare skin. Her eyes snapped to mine.

"Fine!" I said, just before the prongs reached her. "I'll fucking do it."

"Atta boy," Gunnir said, clapping a hand against my back.

I opened my fly, unable to look at her through the veil of guilt hanging over me. With my eyes aimed at the ceiling, I began to piss. My stream connected with ceramic and flesh, and she let out a weak whimper. That sound broke me; it would have taken me off my feet had Gunnir not been holding me up. Once I finished, he let me go and I fell to my knees.

"A pussy and his whore," Gunnir snarled as he pulled up his overalls and left us alone in the bathroom.

The door slammed and I tried to gather the strength to sit up. Ophelia was sobbing, and the smell of urine hung in the air like a nightmarish perfume.

"I'm so fucking sorry," I whispered, but she didn't acknowledge me. Her eyes told me everything I needed to know, though. That she was right. That she was in hell and no matter how much I tried to shield her from the heat, I couldn't stop the encroaching firestorm. And now the flames were burning me too.

Ophelia went silent, which was worse than her crying. She sat there, bathed in the devil's piss, unable to move. Fighting through the adrenaline crash, I gathered enough strength to reach up and turn on the shower. The water fell from the showerhead, spraying us both, and her chest drew in with a sharp gasp as the cold water struck her and soaked her hair. Without getting undressed, I climbed into the tub and helped her to her feet, but she was deadweight in my hands.

"Ophelia, come on," I said in a strained voice. I finally got her onto her feet and pushed the hair from her face. "Oh god," I whispered as I looked into eyes so full of mistrust. My participation had destroyed her, and that gutted me.

Ignoring the heaviness in my arms, I washed her off. She leaned into me as I scrubbed her hair until the floral scent overtook the urine. Once she was clean, I helped her out of the shower, wrapped a towel around her, and brought her to my room. I locked the door and pulled the dresser in front of it.

I stripped the wet clothes from my body and dressed in something dry, and when I turned around, I found her shivering and staring at me. I lifted the blanket on the bed, urging her to disappear into its warmth, but she wouldn't move. She was scared of me again. Afraid of what I would do to her once I climbed in beside her. I grabbed her arm, eased her onto the bed, and pulled the blanket over her naked body. Her eyes never left me, anticipating what she feared would happen next. Instead of crawling in beside her, I locked her chain to the anchor and curled up on the floor. I pulled the thin blanket over me and found comfort in its scent. It smelled like her.

I didn't know why I was so bothered by what happened. Gunnir and I had done worse than that to nearly all the women. We used to make them drink our piss before bed so they'd taste us all night. Ophelia was different, though. Seeing that defeated look on her face reminded me too much of what Gunnir and The Man had done to me. Before my eyes, she became that traumatized little boy tied to the post outside because he snuck his mother some extra food. Ophelia was the good part of me, the part that was beaten into oblivion, leaving just the monster in my skin.

Lulled by the hum of the radiator beside me, I let myself slip into sleep. Gunnir would kill me if he knew I gave her my bed, but I was the one who deserved to sleep on the fucking floor.

How would she ever forgive me? How could I forgive myself?