Firethorne

Chapter 21

Chapter Twenty-One

Maya

T hump.

Thump.

Thump.

My head pounded and swirled as I came around, noises were muffled, voices I didn’t recognise echoed in my ears. Everything felt foreign.

Thump.

Thump.

Thump.

My body didn’t feel like my own. It was as if I was stuck inside someone else’s body. A body that didn’t work.

I felt nauseous and achy.

I tried to swallow, but it was like swallowing sandpaper.

Everything felt wrong.

I prised my eyes open, and the room I was in seemed hazy and out of focus, like I was viewing it underwater, submerged in a sea and I couldn’t breathe.

I was stuck in an eternal nightmare of pain.

Dots and stars danced in front of my eyes, and then slowly, so, so slowly, I began to gain focus.

I didn’t recognise the face looming over me, and on instinct, I tried to move, but I couldn’t. I was shackled, restrained on whatever surface I was lying on.

I went to speak, to cry for help, but all that came out were grunts, noises that didn’t sound like they were being made by me. I was gagged, and my eyes bulged when I realised, pleading with the man who was looking down at me, begging him to help me.

“She’s awake,” I heard a familiar voice announce, and Firethorne appeared behind the strange man. “Just in time for the best part.”

His eyes were glowing with a sadistic need, telling me the best part wouldn’t be the best for me.

I thrashed on the bed or whatever it was I was tied to. Glancing to the side, I could see my wrists were secured by cuffs, there was a leather strap over my chest, but that wasn’t the worst part. My legs were strapped to stirrups that were open wide, and all I had on was the old T-shirt I’d gone to bed in. Nothing else. I felt degraded, defiled, and there wasn’t a damn thing I could do about it.

Mentally, I checked my body. I had no pain other than my pounding head and sore throat. I hadn’t been raped. But was that about to happen? Was that why they had me strapped here?

The room was dark, but I knew I was still at Firethorne Manor. I recognised this room. I’d cleaned it only days ago, and now, it’d be etched into my mind, my very soul, for the rest of my life. From the open fire that crackled at the end of the bed I was on, to the landscape painting of the estate that hung above it, the one with the shadow of him hiding amongst the reeds by the lake. The dark window to the side of me showed it was still nighttime, reflecting the horrors back to me that were about to ensue in this room. Taunting me. Reminding me that I was helpless.

“I’m going to get this on video,” Firethorne announced, taking his phone from his pocket and pointing it in my direction. “I need to confirm this so my client doesn’t pull out.”

He was going to video whatever sick thing he was about to do to me.

I wanted to throw up.

I wanted to run as far away from this place as I could.

But another jolt on my restraints told me that was useless.

I was trapped.

“Sir, are you sure about this?” the stranger standing next to him asked, and a flutter of hope took flight in my belly.

He wasn’t sure.

Maybe he’d save me.

“Of course I’m sure,” Firethorne barked. “And you need to get on with it. This is why I keep you on a retainer, doctor, for issues like this.”

He was a doctor.

A fucking doctor, who was going to do something to a helpless woman strapped to a bed.

He was no doctor.

Doctors swore an oath to heal and protect their patients.

This man was a monster, the same as Firethorne.

The man sighed, and I watched as he put a medical bag onto a table close by and opened it, taking out what looked like a fucking medieval torture device.

I screamed as loudly as my muffled voice would let me through the gag, and Firethorne rolled his eyes.

“For goodness sake, Maya, calm down. We just need to do a little examination and then this will all be over.” And then his eyes became slits, throwing an evil glare my way. “This could’ve been avoided if you’d behaved yourself. But you couldn’t help yourself, could you... and neither could my bastard child.” And then he muttered, “If she thinks this is bad, she’s not going to last five minutes when we do the handover.”

Handover?

Behaved myself?

Bastard child?

What the hell was going on?

I didn’t have time to process any of it as the doctor came to stand between my open legs. The stirrups clattered as I tried to move, tried to close them to protect myself, but I couldn’t. Firethorne stood next to him, holding his phone up as he recorded what was happening, and I closed my eyes as he held up the long metal device, smearing it with gel, and then, as he pushed it inside me, I held my breath. Sweat trickled down my face and back. My body shook. And warnings blared loud in my ears, ringing as my heart felt like it was about to give out.

“The hymen is still intact,” the doctor announced, and then he pulled the device free, and my eyes flew open as I gasped for breath.

“Good. I’ll get this video sent to Edward right away. I want this deal finalised before noon tomorrow. And until then, she stays right here. There’s a lot of money at stake, and I’m not fucking around anymore.”

What the fuck?

He was selling me to Edward?

“She’ll need food and water, she’s very dehydrated,” the doctor said, and then with a hint of remorse in his eyes, he added, “And she needs to be allowed to move her arms and legs. It’s dangerous to keep her restrained like this.”

“I employ you for your medical expertise,” Firethorne snapped. “And you gave me that two minutes ago. I have no need or desire to hear anything else that you think I should or shouldn’t do in my own home. And besides, she needs to get used to being restrained. It’s not barbaric, it’s training. She’ll get a lot worse with her next owner.”

Owner?

I started to thrash and scream again. I was no one’s fucking property.

The doctor nodded, and as he walked towards the door, I hollered through the gag, begging him to come back, to do something. And then, I saw Beresford standing outside the door as the doctor opened it and walked away. And Beresford entered the room, taking the doctor’s place.

“The father is asking to speak to you,” he said to Firethorne, giving me a quick and shame-filled glance before refocusing on his boss. “I told him to wait next door.”

“I’ve got nothing to say to him,” Firethorne shot back. “Tell him the transaction has been completed and his role in all this has come to an end. I want him off my property.”

“I told him that,” Beresford replied. “But he’s refusing to leave. Says he needs to see his daughter one last time.”

“She isn’t his daughter anymore,” Firethorne hissed, then he clenched his jaw as he barked, “Deal with him. I don’t have time for this. You know what to do.”

Beresford nodded, and with his head hung low, he made his way out of the room, leaving the door ajar as if he was taunting me.

Firethorne huffed and came to stand over me.

“I’ll give you ten minutes out of these restraints,” he said. “But don’t fucking try me.”

I nodded as he unbuckled the straps on my legs, feeling relieved that I was able to move my legs back onto the bed. Then he untied the strap on my body, and finally the ones around my wrists. But if he thought that in my weakened state, I would be docile and obedient, then he was wrong.

Instantly, I shot up, kicking my legs into action and jumping off the bed. He made a grab for me, but I was so desperate to escape I managed to evade his grasp and lunge for the open door.

As I sprinted past Beresford, who was struck dumb in the hallway, reacting too slowly to put his arms out and catch me, I heard Firethorne bellow, “Stop her.”

My legs burned as I raced down the corridor, running a marathon for my life, aching to be free. And suddenly, in front of me, Lysander appeared, and I ran right into him, gasping as I stared up at him, begging him, “Please. Please help me. They’re hurting me. They’re going to send me away. You have to help me.”

Lysander frowned. “What’s going on?” he asked, as Firethorne hollered down the hallway, “Don’t let her go. Hold her.”

“You were right,” I said through panted breaths. “I can’t trust them. They lied to me. But I know... I know you weren’t lying. Please.”

“What are you talking about?” Lysander asked as he held me by the tops of my arms.

I didn’t have time for this.

“The sketch. The warnings. You need to help me.”

Even after everything I’d seen tonight, I still believed Lysander would help me.

I could feel danger hurtling towards me. Firethorne was right behind us. But when Lysander said, “What warnings?” the bottom fell out of my world.

“Hold her,” Firethorne shouted.

“I’ve got her,” Lysander replied, and his grasp tightened, painfully so.

“No,” I begged, pleading as I stared at him, but he wasn’t going to save me. He was holding me for his father.

So, I did what any sane person would do.

I kneed him hard in the balls, and when he let go of me to grab his crotch, I ran. I fucking ran down that hallway without looking back.

My bare feet pounded the wooden floor, my hands grabbing for the rail as I reached the stairs, and I flew down the steps, barrelling forward, praying the front door wouldn’t be locked.

I could hear them coming after me as I raced across the foyer, heading for the door. When I reached it, I grabbed the handle, turned it, and to my relief, it opened and I shot out of the house, running down the sandstone steps in the cold night air.

My bare feet ached as I shot across the gravel drive, but I didn’t care; I’d have raced over broken glass to get away from this house. I ran in the direction of the iron gates that I’d driven through a matter of weeks ago, figuring I could scale a wall, climb the gates, do anything to get myself off this estate to freedom. The Victorian lampposts that’d been lit when we’d arrived that night weren’t lit up tonight. Instead, they stood like shadowed guards, watching my plight, bearing witness to my escape. I ducked to the side, running across the grass, willing my legs not to buckle as my feet screamed in pain, and then, I felt like I’d been hit by a truck as something charged into me, knocking me to the ground.

I face planted the grass as someone made a grab for me, trying to pin me down. But I fought them; I fought so fucking hard to break free, to crawl away from them. I kicked my legs and flailed my arms, but the weight of their body stopped me from gaining any traction.

Then a deep voice muttered in my ear, “You can stop running now. I’ve got you.” And I felt a sharp prick in my neck before my world turned to darkness for the second time that night.