Undo Me (The Good Ol' Boys 3) - Page 18

My thrashing feet connected with his shin, causing his arms to slack just enough to give me the illusion of freedom. I stumbled forward scraping my knee on the gravel, trying to escape, trying to run toward my happiness.

Dylan.

I wasn’t fast enough.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

He picked me up in the air as if I weighed nothing and body-slammed me face first onto the ground. Pain radiated throughout my body. I choked from the sudden loss of breath, the wind knocked out of me with his entire weight resting on my back. I sucked in air that wasn’t available for the taking as he roughly gripped my hair, jerking my head so far back that I reeled in pain. My vision turned black, blinking away the white spots.

“Please, please don’t hurt me,” I groggily choked out. Pleading with him to let me go.

He pulled my neck back further, and I swear I thought he was going to tear my hair out.

“Please,” he sadistically repeated. “Oh, baby, I want you to beg. I want you to beg me to fucking stop. It only gets my cock harder for that sweet little cunt that I’m about to rip to shreds.”

He rocked his hips a few times against my ass. Grinding his already hard dick on me. I could feel him everywhere, his filthy hands violating me. Bile rose to my throat. The bile I was fighting back was making its way back up.

I instantly started bawling. Tears streaming down my face, my lips shaking and my teeth chattering.

“Please, don’t do this! Please, please don’t do this,” I sobbed over and over again, my body convulsing.

“Shut the fuck up! You’re going to enjoy what I have in store for you, and if you don’t, I’ll fucking do it again!”

He spit on my face and slammed my head into the dirt, smearing it back and forth like he was trying to bury my face in it. The dirt, leaves, and branches on the ground scratching my face even more.

I could feel every little stone cutting into my cheek. I cried harder and screamed louder, whipping my legs around. I screamed till my voice felt raw and my mouth dry. My throat burned and the sounds just faded away.

He pulled back my arm, lifting it higher up my back and I cried out in agony.

“Don’t fucking move. I’ll break your goddamn arm. But, baby, you can go ahead and try fighting me. It’s only going to make me fuck you harder.”

He let go of my hair and slowly, deliberately roamed his hand down to my waist.

“No! No! No! Please, please, don’t hurt me! PLEASE!” I bawled, I pleaded, I begged. My tears so intense, so consuming I couldn’t see anymore. I couldn’t breathe, I couldn’t move. “I’m begging you please don’t do this! I’ll give you whatever you want just don’t hurt me!” I openly wailed, pleading with the man I knew was going to cause me pain.

He pulled the hem of my shirt over my eyes and nose leaving my mouth exposed. Taking away all my surroundings and engulfing me in nothing but Dylan’s scent. My earplugs now closer to my face, Dylan’s playlist my only solace while my soul was getting destroyed. I could dimly hear “Ain’t No Sunshine.”

“Mmm…” he groaned, causing me to cringe. “So much fucking better.”

He touched all along my back with his dirty hands, slowly making his way down to my waist again, snapping my shorts and making me jolt.

“Let’s get to the good stuff, shall we?”

I sobbed, choking on my own tears as he pressed his hand onto my hips, roughly ripping off my shorts and panties.

“No!” I shouted, kicking and fighting with every ounce of strength I could muster. His hand that was holding me down let up a little, and I pushed up ready to run. For a second he let me feel like I had a chance, for a moment I thought this nightmare was over. I was up on my hands and knees, my foot digging in the dirt to get up.

“Why you running? The fun’s just getting started,” he taunted, gripping my ankle, causing me to fall face first back onto the ground. Dragging me back to him. My stomach now being ripped by the dirt.

He was toying with me, I was his prey.

I struggled against him as I heard him lower his zipper, but it was no use. He was too strong for me. I never stood a chance and when that realization hit me, he coarsely flipped me over onto my back and slapped me so hard across the face that I immediately tasted blood. He didn’t let up, he punched my stomach and ribs repeatedly, until there was no fight left in me, and all I wanted to do was die. I never thought there could be pain like that. When he restrained my hands with a zip tie, I knew there was no saving me.

My dying body lay limp in a pool of my own misery while he violated me. I heard what sounded like a switchblade and instantaneously started fighting him off once again.

“No! No! No! Please!” I pleaded in agony. My body was slowly slipping away, my soul dying, all while he violated me over and over again.

I felt the knife at my neck and I closed my eyes, thinking this was the moment that I was going to die. I was going to be killed seeing Dylan’s shirt and engulfed in his scent that he gave me with so much love to protect me, listening to the music that made me fall in love with him.

He ripped down the center of my sports bra, leaving me much more exposed than before. The knife faintly grazed my chest with each flick of his wrist, and then he punched me in the stomach again. My head lay slack against the dirt, and I hazily felt his body get on top of mine before he finished killing me completely. Thrusting so hard inside me that my body jerked forward from the pain of his sudden intrusion.

This isn’t happening, this isn’t happening. Dylan will save me. He will save me.

“Fuck, you feel better than I thought you would,” he growled against my face, gripping his hand around my neck and clutching his other hand on my hip, opposite side to where Dylan’s hands had laid the night before.

I gasped for air, for tears, for my voice but nothing came out. The pain was too overwhelming, too strong, too crippling. I screeched out in agony with each rough thrust. He pushed in and out of me. I blocked out his voice and all the filthy shit that came out of his mouth about my pussy being so fucking tight, so fucking perfect, so fucking his. I closed my eyes silently praying to God that he would kill me, that I would die, and that he would take away the hurt that I felt in every last fiber of my body. The throbbing between my legs, the ache on my muscles, the bruises all over me, and the hole in my heart where Dylan used to be.

I checked out, I detached myself.

Aubrey is gone.

All that was left was the girl being raped.

Nothing would be the same after this.

Nothing…

I felt him come deep inside me. It was in that moment that I lost my faith in God, no hope, no light at the end of the tunnel.

Not for me.

Not ever again.

He shook with his release, grunting, as I resisted the urge to throw up. Soft tears slid out of my eyes, soaking Dylan’s shirt. He sat up and buttoned up his pants, the sound of his zipper would forever haunt me. I kept my face to the side, my vision still blocked, falling in and out of consciousness. Each time I blinked a happy memory came into sight and instantly was ripped from me, one by one. I saw my mom, my dad, Dylan, the boys, and Alex, followed by nothing but darkness. The loneliness creeping back in as if it never left to begin with, as if my mind was showing me one last time what happiness was, because I’d never feel it again.

“Better than I thought it was going to be.”

He threw what felt like my torn clothes on my chest.

“Don’t pretend like you didn’t like it, you dirty whore. I see those fucking bruises on you. Baby girl loves it rough, huh?” he scoffed, kicking what felt like dirt on me.

And that’s when I died a little more.

He kicked me in my stomach one last time and I instantly recoiled to the side, holding my waist, once again choking for air.

“Until next time you little cock tease.”

I gasped, wheezing for my next breath. Bringing up my knees to lay in fetal position, s

haking, and suddenly freezing. I removed Dylan’s shirt from my head, placing it on top of me, trying to find any warmth, any comfort, any solace that I could.

I felt nothing.

I was numb.

Not even Dylan’s scent comforted me or the soft blues tune that I would never bear to hear again.

I don’t know how long I stayed there, cold, broken, by myself with nothing but my despair and I closed my eyes wishing that I would never wake up.

When I heard a familiar voice yell out, “No!”

It was only than that I realized…

Dylan would die, too.

I didn’t expect to stay on the phone that long. A conversation that wasn’t supposed to take longer than a few minutes lasted almost an hour. When I looked down at the time, I realized Aubrey should have been back by now. The hair on my arms stood up and an awful fucking feeling instantly took over.

I ran into the bedroom and grabbed the first shirt I could find from the drawer. Throwing it on over my head as I sprinted toward the door. I didn’t even lock it behind me. I just took off, my feet moving on their own accord. The longer it took to find her, the worse the feeling bubbled up inside me. Soon, all I felt was panic and a deep urgency to see her. I pushed through, my feet hitting the dirt faster and faster, sweat pooling at my temples with my heart beating out of my chest.

The closer I got to her the more I sensed her around me. She had to be close by. The dreadful feeling built higher and higher, making it nearly impossible for me to remain calm.

I shouldn’t have let her go alone, I shouldn’t have told her to go without me. I shouldn’t have taken the damn call.

Plaguing thoughts were assaulting my mind, one right after the other, turning inklings of fear into pure panic that something terrible could have happened to her and I allowed it to. The trail began to ascend, causing me to slow my pace. I knew I had to be close, I swear I could hear her. Right before the trail started to even out I saw one of Aubrey’s running shoes and her white panties, lying in the dirt. Nothing could have prepared me for what I saw next.

Nothing.

Seconds before I came upon her unrecognizable naked body, I heard her whimpering in pain. Someone might as well have taken a sledgehammer to my heart right then and there. Some fucker left the love of my fucking life lying on the ground like a piece of trash that was thrown out as if she were nothing.

As soon as I saw her, I knew things would never be the same.

Our relationship.

Our love.

Our future.

My girl.

She was lying on the dirt, broken. Her once flawless skin now covered in bruises. Her face covered in scratches and her beautiful eyes looked empty now. Tears were rolling down her cheeks and she kept rocking herself while her hands were bound to her front.

I yelled out, “No!” I ran as fast as I could, falling to my knees before I even fully got to her. I ignored the shooting pain that screamed from my knees.

She flinched, recoiling away from me.

From me.

“No, no, no, no…” she repeated with a shaky voice I had never heard before.

“Baby, it’s me.”

She winced like it hurt her to hear me say that.

“Jesus Christ, I’m so sorry, darlin’,” I pleaded not knowing where to touch her, hold her, comfort her. I needed to get her to a hospital right away.

With shaky hands I pulled out my cell phone, dialing 911.

“What are you doing?” she simply asked her voice void of emotion.

“I’m calling for help, Suga’.”

I yearned to touch her and when I reached out for her again she retracted like a wounded child.

“Please, don’t call anyone. Please,” she pleaded in a tone that broke my fucking heart more than it already was.

I set the phone down next to me and put my hands out in the air so she could see them.

“Suga’, I’m not going to hurt you. Do you understand me? You’re safe now, I’m here,” I pleaded with her.

She closed her eyes, a single tear falling down her bruised cheek.

“Baby,” I muttered my voice breaking with my eyes watering. “Baby, please, let me touch you. It’s me, Aubrey, it’s me.”

More tears slid down her beautiful face and I gently swept them away, but she still flinched from my touch. My face frowned and it took everything in me to keep it together. She needed me to be strong for her.

For us.

“Please, baby, open your eyes and look at me, see that it’s me.”

My walls were crumbling down. I took her blood-covered hands that were zip tied together and gently placed them on my heart. “Feel me, Aubrey.”

She instantly pulled her hands away from me and winced in pain.

I took in all the bruises, the finger imprints on her neck and arms. I had to shut my eyes for a minute before I made my way below her waist, already knowing what I’d find. I opened them and immediately saw the dried blood on her inner thighs and the marks on her legs and skinned knees.

I bowed my head in such shame and remorse all at once, hitting me harder than anything I have ever experienced before.

“No, no, no… what did he do to you, baby? What did he fucking do to my girl?” I openly wailed, trying to catch my breath. “I’m so sorry, Aubrey, I’m so fucking sorry,” I choked out hanging my head over her body.

My face drenched with nothing but guilt.

I sat up pulling my shirt over my head. “I’m going to sit you up so I can put this on you, and then I’m going to carry you and we’re going to go to the hospital so that the doctor can check you and make sure—”

“NO!” she shouted, opening her eyes. “No fucking hospitals. I don’t want to go! Please, please, please, don’t make me go. I’m begging you, please—”

“Shhh…” I whispered, caressing her face with the knuckle on my hand. “Shhh… I’m still going to sit you up and carry you, okay? We can go back to the cabin, and I can check you. Alright?”

She didn’t answer, but I took her silence as a yes. She whimpered in pain when I sat her up, and I quickly placed the shirt over her head and down her body. The zip ties not allowing me to pull her arms through the sleeves.

She turned away from me like the mere smell of me was painful.

“I’m going to carry you now. We can go as slow as you need, baby.”

“Just fucking do it,” she replied in a harsh tone.

I picked her up into my arms like she was a baby, being careful not to hurt her. She cried the entire way back to the cabin. Each tear that fell from her face would forever be ingrained in my soul.

Every. Last. One.

I opened the door, trying like hell not to make any sudden movements that would cause her any more pain. I grabbed the scissors from the kitchen and gently laid her on the bed in one of the other bedrooms. I didn’t want to take a risk carrying her up the stairs to our bed. I cut the zip ties, sick to my fucking stomach the entire time. She immediately scooted as far away from me as possible when she heard them snap, even though it caused nothing but more agony to her already broken body.

“Baby,” I whispered, sitting on the edge of the bed, reaching for her.

She put her hands out in the air, stopping me. “Please, just go,” she muttered, barely loud enough for me to hear.

“Go where, darlin’? Where do you want me to go? I’m not fucking leaving you like this.”

She looked right at me for the first time since I found her with dead eyes. Not one ounce of love left in there for me.

“Away. Away from me,” she gritted through her chattering teeth.

I violently shook my head, my fists clenched at my sides. “I can’t do that. Aubrey, let me take you to the hospital. They can check you, and we can catch this guy. Something can be—”

“No,” she sternly argued. “Can't you see, Dylan? It's too late, the damage is done. I'm already dead.”

“Oh my God, don’t say shit like that.

” I placed my hand over my heart, trying to hold it together. I got off the bed and paced back and forth, wanting nothing more than for her to let me hold her, show her she had life in her still.

Most of all, I wanted to take away everything that fucker did to my girl.

“Baby, you’re right here,” I cried, pushing my hands through my hair. “You’re right fucking in front of me. You’re not dead. You’re right fucking here with me,” I argued, pounding my fist on my heart.

“Just go! I don’t want you here. Please just get out!” Her body shook from anger.

“If you’re not going to let me take you in to get help, then please just let me look at you. Let me make sure—”

She crawled to the end of the bed, her body almost giving out on her. I reached once again to help her and she slapped my hands away. She slowly stood, pulling her arms out through the sleeves to hold her ribs and lean against the bed frame.

I stepped toward her. “Let me help—”

“Jesus Christ!” she yelled out, stopping me dead in my tracks.

We locked eyes.

“Look at me, Dylan! Fucking look at me! What more can they do for me? Nothing! What more can you do for me? Fucking nothing! The damage is already done. You can’t help me! You can’t save me! You’re too fucking late!”

I immediately jerked back like she knocked me the fuck out. Fresh tears erupted from her eyes, and it took everything in me not to rush to her side and beg her to forgive me.

“Now leave!” she screamed at the top of her lungs, wincing once again from the pain in her ribs, I was sure were broken.

I stood there, glued to the goddamn floor that was caving beneath me. There was no coming back from this. It took one phone call to rip my happiness away, to take my girl away.

The irony was not lost on me.

“LEAVE!”

She fell to the floor in defeat and rocked back and forth. She shattered and this time I couldn’t pick up the pieces.

I shook my head, bowing it in defeat and walked out of the room. I heard the door slam shut a few minutes later as I paced around the living room, tugging my hair at the back of my neck, wanting nothing more than to rip it the fuck out.


Tags: M. Robinson The Good Ol' Boys Romance
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