Chapter 9

Chapter Nine

Fin

Out of everything, telling Damon he wasn't in charge anymore seemed to be the thing that broke the dam. His shoulders sagged. The muscles in his back seemed to ripple in relief. He didn't cry. Not yet.

I looked at Sabrina, who was watching the scene unfold with rapt attention. "Tell me what else he did to you."

The sharp inhale came from both of them simultaneously. Sabrina shook her head. "It's okay, Fin. He didn't mean any harm. He was just hurting."

Damon's head snapped up and turned to look at her. "It's okay," he croaked. "You can tell him."

I watched her nervously lick her lips. "He, um… he slapped me. A bunch of times. Maybe four? And he, um… he taped my mouth. And uh…" She stopped speaking and focused on something tucked between the mattress and the wall.

"I fucked her with a bottle, and then my fist, and finally my cock," Damon admitted gruffly. "But you already knew that last part."

"A bottle." I drew out the word, my tone emotionless. "Hand it to me," I commanded.

Sabrina's hands were still zip tied. Damon quickly complied, holding it out behind him. I took it, and turned it over in my hands. The opening was still slick with Sabrina's juices.

"Why a bottle?" I asked. It seemed an inhumane thing to do to someone you loved, and I knew Damon loved Sabrina, no matter what anger he might feel.

In answer to my question, Damon just shrugged. I wasn't an idiot, I could read between the lines. Fuck. That was what they'd done to him.

Reaching between Sabrina's legs, I gathered her moisture with my fingers, then rubbed it along the rim of the bottle and the neck. My throat constricted as I positioned the opening between Damon's cheeks.

His whole body tensed as I pushed it against his tight rimmed hole. Tears pricked my eyelids, but I swallowed them back, pushing the neck of the bottle inside of him. God, I wished I had lube.

Damon just… took it. I wasn't sure what was going through his head as I worked the neck of the bottle in and out of his asshole, but I knew the things going through mine were unspeakable.

"How did they even get a bottle in jail?" I mused.

When he didn't answer, I smacked his ass.

"The guards," he whispered, as I continued to violate him.

"Ah, I see. I'm so sorry this happened to you, babyboy."

"It's fine. My own stupid fault, right?"

My heart broke. I jerked the bottle out with no warning and turned him around to face me, looking at him, really looking at him for maybe the first time. "No," I said emphatically. "It is not your fault that happened. It should not have happened. It was an egregious abuse of power designed to break you." I shook my head. "I'm so sorry I did it too. I don't know what I was thinking."

He slumped against my chest. "It's okay. I'm okay. It… it didn't suck as much when it was you. It hurt, but I liked the pain. I knew it would be over soon, and I knew it wouldn't happen again, and I trust you so… it was different, Daddy."

"Different or not, it was still wrong."

"It was wrong when I did it to Sabrina too." He shifted in my arms to look over at her. "I'm so sorry, babygirl. I think I was out of my mind."

"It's… I forgive you," she whispered, with tears falling down her cheeks."

Damon looked up at me. "Can we… I need to untie her now. I shouldn't have done that either."

Pulling my pocketknife out of my discarded pants, I handed it to him, and watched as he made quick work of the plastic ties keeping her anchored to the bed.

The second she was free, she flew into his arms, wrapped her legs around his waist and sobbed into his chest. "I'm sorry," she cried. "I'm so sorry that happened. And I'm sorry I wasn't there for you. Please forgive me."

I watched as Damon seemed to melt, the anger and toughness he'd been holding to so tightly fading away. "It's okay. I'm sorry. I understand now. We were just kids. There wasn't much you could have done."

"I could have written," she gasped. "I could have helped you not feel so alone."

Before he could respond, she peppered his face, neck and cheeks with soft kisses. "Damon, It sucks the way everything happened. If I could go back and change any of it, I would. But please don't give up. Don't…" She swallowed back tears, her voice choked-up. "Don't leave. Don't let them win. It will get better. I promise."

He drew a ragged breath, while I held mine.

"I don't know if I believe that. Today has been… fucked-up, but almost nice. It was… it was good to see you both again. I missed you both, so much. And I'm… I'm happy for you. I hope… I hope I can be invited to the wedding."

Sabrina's eyes met mine. I read the question there. Would there even be a wedding now? It felt like the past few hours had changed everything. But that wasn't Damon's problem, and it didn't have to be sorted right now.

"You're definitely invited," I promised him. "Just please, please hold on. Please, please believe that it will get better. I'll help you. We both will."

He nodded, his Adam's apple bobbing with the strength of his emotions and the strain of holding them in.

We all held tightly to each other, saying nothing, processing everything we'd all been through.

Finally, Sabrina pulled back, wiped her tears, and said with a strained laugh, "What now?"

I shrugged. I had no idea. The day had wrecked me, torn me in half just like that fateful day six years ago. It felt like nothing was ever going to be the same again. I didn't want it to be, but I wasn't the only one in this equation, and I had no idea what my friends wanted.

The question seemed to hang heavy in the air between us. Finally, Damon looked up at me, his eyes pleading at me to understand. "I think… I think I need more therapy, Daddy. I think… I'm not quite ready to move on, but for the first time ever, I actually feel like I could be."

I looked at Sabrina, thankful when she nodded. The truth was, I wasn't ready to move on, either. I didn't know if I could be.