I have to get to Liesel.
I have to stop this.
I pull harder, determined to get the door to budge. All I end up doing is pulling my side of the handle clean off. I throw my body against the door. I kick as hard as I can, but this isn’t an ordinary door. This one is thick, most likely bulletproof.
I slink to the floor as my tears fall. I can’t save her.
I hear a slapping sound, and that motivates me to get my ass off the floor and run to the screen.
Liesel’s cheek is pink from where she was slapped.
Beckett steps up to her and slaps her.
I’m going to kill him.
And then I watch as a man slides his cock into my woman and I’m lost, so fucking lost.
Watching Waylon fuck her drove me mad—but this, this will change me in a way I haven’t even figured out yet.
Does watching her get punished like this wipe her clean of the greatest sin she could commit?
No.
But it does weaken me, make me feel like she’s suffered more than anyone. When I kill her, I’ll be merciful. I’ll make it painless and quick. Not torturous, like this.
This is pain.
There is only one time I’ve felt this much pain: when Liesel betrayed everything I thought I knew about her.
I never thought helplessly watching her put herself into a situation like this would make me feel anything for her. I thought my heart had closed to her permanently, but I was wrong.
This.
This…
It changes everything.
I have to win. I can’t let her endure more than this. I don’t know how many rounds are left, but if she doesn’t mutter her safe word now, I have to get her to early in the next round. I have to convince her. Hopefully, this experience will remind her to not push any further.
Maybe if I promise to give her the money when I win, she’ll stop?
I don’t know if she’ll believe me, but I have to try.
I can’t fucking go through this again.
I can’t.
I crumple to the floor, glued to the TV as my heart breaks more and more for the girl who used to live across the street from me. To the girl who, at one point in my life, meant everything. Maybe she means more to me now than I’ll ever admit to myself?
Tears continue to stream down my face. I realize that Beckett’s task is to repeat one of the men’s actions on Liesel. When there is nothing left for Beckett to repeat but fuck her, he says his safe word.
When he turns and looks at the camera, there are tears in his swollen eyes. He hardly even knows Liesel, and he’s a fucking mess.
I’m not going to survive this.
I scream my own safe word, wishing that I could make it stop, but no one is listening to me. No one will come.
I pray to God that this is fake, that this is all a show Liesel is putting on to show me how much I fucking care about her.
I know it’s not, but my brain is trying anything to make sense of this.
I’m broken.
I was already broken, but this—this is as bad as it gets.
I don’t know how long it goes on. I don’t know when it stops, but at some point, I look at the screen, and she’s no longer on it.
That’s when I collapse again. I fall into the darkness of sleep, and that’s where I plan on spending the rest of my life: swimming in the dark.
19
Liesel
I’m barely conscious as I’m dragged out of the room, but I survived.
Now, I get a break. A hot bath and warm food. I won’t be watching any of the other rounds. I don’t care. I just need to refocus before my next round.
A door is opened in front of me, and I’m pushed inside.
There is a body on the floor.
“Sorry, we went to the wrong room.” The men start to turn and lead me away.
“Stop. I want to stay here.”
The men look at each other and shrug. Then they leave me barely able to stand on my own two feet. Langston better not have eaten all the food because I’m going to need something to eat.
As soon as the door is locked behind me, I stumble forward to Langston’s body on the ground, and I collapse next to him.
I can hear him breathing. He’s alive, just passed out.
He looks so beautifully broken lying on the floor. I reach out and stroke his hair back off his forehead. I want to press my lips to him. I want to feel him moan against my mouth after everything we’ve just been through—I need something warm and comforting.
He opens his eyes.
“Are you real?” he asks.
I smile. “I’m real. I survived, just like you.”
“What are you doing here?”
“A room mixup, but it worked out in my favor.”
He finally smiles. “Mine too.”
“Think you can sit up?”
“Do you think you can?”
I sigh. “As long as you promise to feed me lots of pizza.”
“That I can do.”
We both inch up slowly until we are in a sitting position leaning against the base of the tub. Langston reaches back and grabs a towel and hands it to me. It’s only then I remember I’m still naked.
“Thanks,” I mumble as I wrap the towel around my body. He ties a towel around his waist.
Then he pulls the tray of food in front of us. I grab a slice of pizza, and he grabs the burger. We both eat, trying to regain some strength.
“You care about me,” I say.
He stops mid-bite.
“No, I don’t,” he says.
I smile brighter. “Liar. You care about me.”
He frowns and shakes his head. “I don’t.”
“You can’t lie anymore. I know the truth.”
“How?”
I grin around a bite of pizza as he stares deeply into my eyes. I can feel my cheeks blushing like
