4. Teysha

4

TEYSHA

All sound becomes an echo in my ears.

Everyone in the room turns their heads for a look at me. The Leader grins wider, pleased by the reluctance he's picked up on.

The man I've married— Logan —pauses before giving his reaction. It comes in the form of a resolute nod and slow rise to his feet. He's already disappearing into his head. He's resigned himself to the order he's been given.

Hardly enthusiasm. Thick with unmistakable tension.

Enough insubordination for the Leader to revel in.

This will be a hard lesson that will be learned. I haven't been here long, but I've accepted my captors are the cruelest kind of people. They like establishing how far above they are and how down below we are.

But I can't do this.

Physically, mentally, emotionally. I can't handle what's happening.

Lord, please bring me strength. Please see me through this darkness .

I repeat the prayer over and over again in my head, trying so hard to hold on when it feels like I'm coming apart.

"Teysha," Logan says. He holds out his hand for me to slip mine into.

Each second drags on for its own eternity. In this moment suspended in time, the Leader and the others look on. The guards like Amos inch closer, ready to exert force. Out of the dozens of eyes on me, I find Logan's. I let myself get lost in how vivid they are.

Blue like the Leader's, but a different kind entirely. Peering into his eyes is like swimming deep in the ocean. It's like being carried away by a current, never to return.

The escape I've been praying for.

My hand slips into his and he pulls me to my feet.

He's the only thing I focus on as we do what we've been told. We stop at the table and the Leader instructs him to take me.

I flatten my palms against the tabletop and hold my breath. Logan comes around me, his arms over mine, tucking as much of me inside his arms as he can. I spread my legs and feel him erect, prodding at my entrance.

He squeezes my hips. His lips hover near my ear. "It'll be alright."

He slides into me as slow as he can.

I bite back my sob at the aching discomfort of being penetrated. The table wobbles as he begins to move. The Leader reclines in his chair and sips more of his wine. The others are too enthralled to look away. They watch every drag of Logan's hips and every strangled breath I give.

Entertainment.

Punishment.

Repentance for not falling in line .

I squeeze my eyes shut and listen to the words Logan breathes in my ear.

"It's going to be alright," he says. "Count the days."

My lips move, repeating him, though no sound comes out.

Count the days.

"We'll get out of here."

We'll get out of here.

"You're going to be alright."

I'm going to be alright.

"Harder!" growls the Leader. "Believer Logan, you have more passion for your bride than that. Show us."

I wince as Logan grips me tighter and his thrusts become rougher. I tell myself I'm swimming. I'm making my escape. The fantasy blooms in my imagination and lets me wander away from the moment.

My mind elsewhere, my body responds on its own. I'm hit with a shudder that racks through me, starting in my sex. I've been bent over the table as Logan half collapses on top of me and buries himself deep.

Our heavy breathing fills the room for seconds to come.

Everyone's waiting on the Leader's reaction. His grin has gone nowhere. He's more pleased than ever.

"Bravo, Believer Logan. Guards, take them back to their cabin. They've entertained enough."

Amos and Brody flank us before we've even had a chance to right our clothes. We're escorted out of the dining room in the main house and returned to our cabin.

"That was quite a show you put on, girl," says Amos. "All that panting and shaking."

The insides of my stomach knot up as he bursts into laughter and slams the cabin door shut. His laughter echoes until he's disappeared into the main house .

I feel sick enough to spew what little is in my stomach.

Logan's turned his back on me. He's reached for his workman boots and the rag he shines them with.

I'm a shaky, emotional wreck. I hang by the door wondering if he'll notice. He'll offer the same comfort he did in the dining room as he…

I swallow down more nausea.

My first night as a captive I had my virginity stolen from me. I hadn't consented to being tied down in a bed and taken in front of a room full of people by a man I didn't know. No matter how loud I screamed or desperately I fought, it happened anyway.

I was broken. I was damaged.

As the distraction I found earlier fades away, it's sinking in. I've been broken again, damaged again.

The only solace I can find in a situation so dark and disturbing is that I was with…

"L-Logan," I sputter. I take a couple steps forward.

He doesn't look at me. He scrubs harder into the boot's worn leather. "What?"

"I need…" I choke on the next sob that bubbles up.

"Lay down. Get some rest."

The coldness confuses me. The security I felt earlier, wrapped in his arms, no longer exists.

His only concern is cleaning his boots.

I crawl into my bunk, unsure of what I'm feeling or what's happening and why. I wanted to believe it would be alright, but now I'm not so sure.

When I was a little girl, I saw the princes rescuing princesses in the fairytales and hoped someday I'd experience the same. I've waited my whole life for that kind of fairytale ending. I always assumed it would happen when I married the man I loved.

I imagined he would be everything I ever wanted. He would be the man of my dreams.

I never thought he'd be a man I was forced into making vows with. I never thought I'd be held captive and made to have sex with him for other's entertainment.

And I never thought I'd be finding comfort even in the dark.

More comfort than even my cross brings me. More comfort than the prayers I whisper give me.

Over time it becomes the reality I know. My life from before fades 'til it no longer feels like my own. It's no longer a life I remember.

The days blur together. The warm afternoons collecting fruit. The late nights lying in a bunkbed listening to crickets chirp. Every time we're called upon by the Leader to consummate our marriage.

One night, the lights have already gone out when we're sought out. Xavier comes down to retrieve us. We're brought into the Leader's spacious bedroom where we find him in an armchair, nursing a drink. Mandy's perched on his lap, smoking a cigarette.

I glance up at Logan, seeking reassurance. He's already overtaking me, already easing me against him as if about to wrap me up. He's glaring at the Leader and Mandy.

I can feel the animosity that fills the space between them.

We have sex as they watch. Mandy puts out her cigarette and the Leader pulls down her top to play with her breasts. He barks orders at Logan and applauds when he's pleased by our performance. By the time Logan's spilling himself inside me, the Leader's inside Mandy.

We're not dismissed until after they're done with each other.

The second we're cleared to go, Logan's gripping my elbow. He keeps me pinned to his side the entire walk to our cabin.

We rarely talk when alone. I suspect it's because he knows I'll seek comfort. The same words he whispers when he's taking me. Maybe some affection. Some bonding.

Instead, once it's over, he's distant. He won't look at me, and he refuses to talk. He's my husband only when we're called upon and he's inside me. Yet these dark moments still become some of my most comforting.

Torture and solace wrapped together in moments that change me forever.

I'm still broken. Still damaged.

But I can hang on with Logan's touch. His fingers bruising my skin and his rough breaths in my ear. The little shudder he makes me feel when I fall apart.

They're not much, but they're all I have.

Logan will never be the man I thought I'd marry, but he's enough for a place like this. I count the days with him and admire how he remains strong at all times. He never cracks and never lets them get to him.

It would be great to be that unshakable.

No wonder he's able to comfort me in the darkest moments of our lives. He's so strong, he can withstand anything. I doubt I'll ever be that strong, but if I can hang on for another day, then I'll make it.

Count the days.

It's drizzling out as the evening fades into night, and we're called upon. Logan grabs my hand, and we cross the field leading up to the house.

"Walk faster," Brody snaps, poking the barrel of his rifle into my spine. "He wants you in his bedroom."

Logan taps his knuckles on the door. We enter expecting to be greeted by a familiar sight.

The Leader in his armchair, clutching his drink. Mandy on his knee, puffing on a cigarette.

But tonight, things are different. Mandy's gone.

It's just the Leader waiting for us.

"Close the door," he says.

I can feel how tense Logan is as he grips the brass handle and snicks it shut. His restraint is held by a thin, invisible string.

"Come here. Both of you."

Logan keeps half a pace ahead of me as we step toward him. The mood couldn't feel more tenuous and unpredictable. I'm holding my breath, unsure what to expect.

"Strip," the Leader says. "Then join me on the bed."

Logan's left arm darts out to keep me from moving. "Join you on the bed?"

"You heard me. Tonight it will be the three of us."