Chapter Thirty-Two

Ivy

Fight or flight was instinctive.

Although there had been moments in my life when I was willing to confidently hold my position and accept the consequences, this particular situation was not one of those times.

The game of cat and mouse was in play.

And right now, I was the mouse.

The only ace I had up my sleeve was I knew the streets.

He didn't.

Ducking behind a building, I rested against the brick face, taking a deep breath while I tried to get the serene look on Father Dominic's face out of my head. He looked so peaceful, almost like he was happy to leave this shitty Earth. I'd never seen someone in the face of death welcome it as he had.

It was unnerving.

Like he knew what waited for him on the other side and he couldn't wait to get there.

My eyes darted around the area, and I quickly noticed that there was no good place for me to duck low, not that it mattered. He would kick over every fucking rock to find me.

Pushing off the wall, I looked both ways before running across the street when I heard him laugh. "Run, little mouse. Run."

I didn't need to be told twice.

I didn't know where I was going or who to ask for help. Every time I tried to backtrack toward the clubhouse, he was there, smirking, shaking his head as if he knew what I was thinking. Left with no choice, I led him away from the clubhouse, making my way through the streets like a starved rat looking for his next meal.

He was good.

I'll give him that; but I was better.

Snaking my way toward the outskirts of town, I headed for the brush, knowing that on the other side were the railroad tracks. From there, I could easily hop on a railcar and disappear.

It wasn't the best idea, but I had limited options.

Breaking through the tree line, I came to a halting stop when my eyes landed on Miguel Chavarria leaning against a railcar, staring right at me.

"Told you I'd get my hands on you, Puta ." The fucker laughed while he shook his head.

They were boxing me in.

I was trapped.

Off in the distance, I heard him again. "You ready to give in, little mouse?"

"FUCK YOU!" I screamed, turning on a dime, running back the way I came. My lungs burned, desperate for air. My legs felt heavy with each step I took. I needed to find some place where I could lie low, catch my breath, come up with a way out of this fucked-up nightmare. Mainly I needed to get word to Luc that I was in trouble, and this time I wasn't sure I would survive what was coming.

My knife was gone. I didn't have my cell phone on me.

I had no way to reach anyone.

"Think, Ivy. Think," I whispered to myself while I pushed further, deeper into the woods, when a powerful hand covered my mouth. Kicking and screaming, I couldn't break his hold as his other arms held me tight against him.

Moving quickly, he ducked behind a large tree, taking me with him.

"Sweetpea, it's me," the familiar voice whispered in my ear.

Blinking, I tried to calm my racing heart, but my skin prickled with fear. It couldn't be him. Anyone but him.

Releasing my mouth, I turned and stared at Oliver.

Frozen to the ground, I slowly shook my head when the man who liked to torture me, dress me up like dolls, then fuck me brutally and repeatedly until he got his fill stared malevolently at me.

"What the fuck are you doing here?"

He frowned. "Is that how you talk to Daddy?"

"You are not my fucking daddy. You are a sick son of a bitch who likes to fucking rape little girls."

"I understand you are upset sweetpea, but using that language will only make it worse for you in the end. Now be a good little girl and behave. I have a surprise for you."

Yeah, I knew what his fucking surprises were and there was no fucking way in hell I would ever allow him to touch me again.

Fuck that shit.

Before I could bolt, he grabbed my arm cruelly, twisting me back around, my back to his chest as he licked the side of my face. "Disobey me and I will punish you right here and now."

"You touch me, and I will bite off your dick!" I sneered, trying to break free from his iron-clad grip when he whipped me around and punched me in the face. Blood dripped from my nose, and I licked the metallic coppery taste.

A slow sinister smile crept across my face as a calm reverence rolled over me. The darkness I worked hard to keep at bay woke, stretching and flexing her muscles. Sinking back into the void, I welcomed her dark, depraved soul lingering deep within me. She was me and I was her. We were one and the same. Two parts of the same whole. Together, we coexisted, but separately, she was the daughter of the Devil himself, and, well... she was going to show her father exactly how much she learned.

"I think she means it, Oliver," the Devil himself said, chuckling while he walked out of the tree line, shaking his head. "I told you spoiling her would get you nowhere. Now look at her. She's nothing more than a useless whore like her mother."

"She's not useless, Devlin. She still has a womb. Remember our deal. The first girl is mine."

"But first we need to make sure that biker didn't get her pregnant."

"And that's why I'm here," Oliver said, tightening his grip on my arm, making me smile even more. Leaning close to my ear, he bit my lobe hard, drawing blood as he whispered heartlessly, "And you better pray I find nothing because I brought my personal coat hanger for you. You bad girl."

Laughing, I sneered, "Good luck getting me pregnant."

Forcing me forward, Oliver held firm while my father and tormentor walked me out of the woods to a waiting car, where I saw Miguel Chavarria and his henchmen Raul waiting.

This was not going to end well for me.

The room exuded a cold and sterile atmosphere, with its white walls and lack of any personal touches. It was sparsely furnished, with only an examination table—much like the one I had previously encountered in Dr. Lansing's office—and a chair placed discreetly in the corner. A feeble light hung above the table, swaying and flickering weakly, as if it lacked the necessary electricity to shine brightly. The room had a distinct smell—a combination of age, mustiness, and the lingering scent of stale bread. The moment Father forced me into this place, a swarm of men descended upon me, assaulting me mercilessly, and leaving me naked and bound to the table. Securing my legs tightly, spread wide in the stirrups, I prepared myself for what was to come.

I didn't need anyone to tell me why they'd strapped me to this table.

This was Father's game.

His preferred method of torture.

The door opened and in walked Oliver. Father followed closely behind heading straight for the chair in the corner. Sitting, Father crossed his legs, and unbuttoned his suit jacket as if he were at some meeting. His gold signet ring, brandishing a trident symbol, glittered in the low fluorescent lighting in the room.

"You get one shot, Oliver."

"No, the deal was I get the first girl."

A smile formed on Father's lips as he deftly extracted a gun from his jacket, aiming it directly at Oliver.

"I just amended the deal. Take it or leave it. The choice is yours."

I could tell Oliver wanted to fight Father, but Oliver was a pussy. He wasn't strong or dominant enough to engage with a man like Father. No, Oliver preferred showing his dominance over little girls. Gave him the rush he needed. Made him feel like a man he couldn't be in the outside world. Motherfucker was nothing more than a sick, twisted, pedophile who enjoyed fucking little girls, and thanks to Father, Oliver found a way to sate his demented perversions every fucking Thursday, come rain or shine.

Turning toward me, Oliver frowned. "I'm sorry, sweetpea. I wanted more time with you. I've missed you so much."

Glaring at the imbecile, I whispered, "I'd leave if I were you."

"And why would I do that?" Oliver asked.

"Because I know the Devil, you don't."

My father chuckled.

Quickly unbuckling his belt, Oliver stepped up between my legs, reaching for his semi-flaccid cock, stroking it while he rubbed the head of his cock against my clit.

I didn't bother struggling against the leather straps. That would only fuel Oliver's desire to copulate more. Instead, my eyes darted around the room until they landed on Father, who was smiling malevolently in his chair, like some godly king enjoying the show.

Oliver pushed his dick into my pussy, and I narrowed my eyes at my father and sneered, "I'm going to enjoy killing you."

"You can try, sweetheart, but you will never walk away from me alive again."

Oliver stroked in and out of my pussy, and I felt nothing.

Almost as if I had detached myself from the situation.

There was no discomfort, no pain.

Nothing.

All I could think about was Luc. The clubhouse. The brothers.

The family I'd found when, for so long, all I'd had was me.

I thought it was funny in a way. I never knew what family meant. Growing up in a BDSM club, all I knew was pain and the men who rutted around in my body.

I never knew love, kindness, laughter.

Just the stark reality of pain that encompassed my everyday life.

Now, everything was different.

Regardless of the horror I found myself in, I fucking knew that Luc and the others were coming for me. I couldn't explain it. It was such a strong feeling that almost swamped me.

Oliver's dick slid like a piston between the folds of my pussy. His face was heavy with tension as he thrust deeply, emitting an inhuman moan.

Then it happened.

Just like I knew it would.

The second Oliver stiffened, his cock flooding my womb with his semen, my father raised his gun and fired, blowing the back of Oliver's head off. Blood and tissue sprayed all over me, coating my naked body as I laid there staring at the Devil himself.

I did try to warn Oliver.

Father slowly stood as Oliver's cock slipped from my cunt, his body falling to the floor.

"Greedy fucker. I should have never let him near you. You were always too good for him."

I said nothing when Father removed a small bottle from his jacket, and he attached a large tubal nozzle attached to the top. I could clearly see the bottle filled with clear liquid. Walking over to me, Father wasted no time shoving the tubular nozzle deep into my pussy before squeezing the bottle. Cold fluid splashed inside me, causing me to flinch.

"It's only vinegar and salt water. Can't have that man's seed taking root now, can we?"

With the last of the fluid dripping onto the floor, Father dropped the bottle and smiled when the door opened, and Miguel Chavarria and his fuck buddy Raul walked in.

"Sweetheart, I believe you owe these men a debt."

Well shit.

My day just keeps getting worse and worse.