Marked (A Dark Serial Killer Romance)
Marked: Chapter 12

My sister cries beside me. Soft sobs, so not to draw the attention of the man sitting at the door.

He’s in charge of watching us. To be sure we don’t do anything other than eat, like we’ve been told.

We each have a bowl of oatmeal in our laps. I hate oatmeal, but it’s the first bit of food they’ve given us since we woke up in this pit of hell. So, for the moment, it’s my favorite dish.

“Eat,” Mom chides my sister, but she’s shaking her head. “You have to eat. You need strength, sweetie.”

Her head is down and her hair blankets her face, so I can’t see the bruising on her cheek. When they brought her back, she had more marks on her than before. Her eye is swollen now.

More blood dries on her legs. On the inside of her legs.

Rage builds in me, but I have to control it. I have to keep docile or they’ll hurt her or Mom again. I have to stay calm, so they keep their attention on me. If I draw them to me, I can keep them both safe from more hurt.

“You got two minutes,” the guy at the door yells.

“Hey, Artie!” A voice calls from across the expansive space. It’s too dark to see anything clearly, but I can make out a form. “You got a phone call. I’ll watch them.”

“Shithead, don’t use my fucking name!” Artie’s chair hits the floor when he jumps up from it.

“Whatever, they won’t tell anyone. Will you girls?” The sneer in his voice makes my stomach turn. “You got a call. In the office.”

“They got one more minute to eat, then take that shit from them.”

“How long you gonna play with them, anyway?”

“As long as fun can be had.” Artie laughs. “Be right back.”

A door opens and shuts. My sister jumps.

“Not gonna eat?” The man appears in front of me, sticking his finger into my oatmeal.

I raise my eyes up to him. He’s not horrible to look at—clean-shaven, and his hair is swept back. He’s wearing a business shirt and slacks.

“I hear you’re the mouthy one. That right?” He grabs my chin, shoving his thumb into my mouth. “Feels nice and warm in there.” He grins. “Maybe you’d be a better girl if you had something else to eat.” He lets me go and rubs his crotch.

My sister whimpers.

“Leave her alone,” Mom demands.

He looks over his shoulder at her.

“Is Mom jealous?” He laughs, taking my bowl of oatmeal and tossing it away from me. It clanks and splatters onto the floor. My stomach twists. I should have shoveled more of it in before he got here.

He twists my arm behind me and gets my wrists bound before moving over to Mom. He shoves her bowl out of her lap, and another rag into her mouth. She’s completely gagged before he cuffs her hands, too.

When he looks at my sister, he chuckles.

“Fought too much, that one. But I think she learned her lesson,” he says, moving back to me.

“Please. Just leave us alone,” I say through gritted teeth.

Mom yells behind her gag, which only makes him laugh.

“I think she really is jealous. It would be cruel not to let her watch, right?” He winks at me, then shoves my shoulders. I fall backward, hitting the concrete floor hard.

I cry out from the pain.

He’s over me again, straddling me. My wrists hurt from landing on them.

“Can’t see well like this.” He jerks on my arms until I’m lying sideways. Mom can see me, but I don’t look at her. I can’t.

He moves to my left side, leaving her on my right. I close my eyes, praying whatever he’s going to do, he’ll do it fast and then leave.

A zipper sounds.

Material shifts.

“Open up, girlie.” He pats my cheek.

When I open my eyes, his hard dick hovers over my mouth.

I shake my head, but he slaps me harder. And when I still don’t comply, he pulls out a knife.

“I can just cut off your fucking lips if you’d prefer.” He presses the blade to my mouth.

I shake my head.

Fine.

I’ll get through it. I’ve gotten through so much already.

As soon as I part my lips, he shoves his cock down my throat. I gag, choke, but he doesn’t care.

He thrusts and thrusts. I try to turn away, but there’s nowhere to go. He’s over me, fucking my mouth as though it’s just another hole.

I think to bite, but I know what will happen then. And he might do it to me.

“Fuck.” He grunts as his thrusts get deeper. He angles his hips. I gag again. This monster won’t care if I choke to death on my own vomit while he rapes my throat.

“Fuck yes.” He pulls out just as he comes, and he jerks his cock, spilling his mess all over my face and neck. I gag, turning away as I throw up.

He laughs.

“See? Better than oatmeal, huh?” He pats my cheek, then drags my gag back up between my lips. It’s soaked with his grossness.

Grabbing my shirt, he yanks me back up to seated. The salty taste of him sits on my tongue.

“Don’t worry, Mom. Maybe next time,” he says as he pulls the zipper back up on his pants.

I bring my tear-filled gaze up to my mom.

She’s looking away.

The tears fall, mingling with the mess he made on me. The lights go out again. Now that we’re bound, they don’t need to watch us.

The door opens and shuts.

The silence deafens me.