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I gag, willing this to be over. But Reaper loves playing games, loves waiting, and loves even more forcing me to take his cum, all of it.

“Shit, she’s going to make me cum before I even get going.” Reaper laughs. Men surrounding us laugh. I didn’t even realize people were down here. I don’t even know how many there are, before I hear him grunting above me, shoving his dick into me. He stiffens, roaring his release before he shoves himself off me.

“Next.” He laughs just as someone else steps up and pounds themselves into me.

“Stop!” I’m crying, my voice rough. I open my mouth to scream but someone is wrapping something around my face, forcing my mouth to stay open. I don’t have time to think before another one is stuffing their dick into my mouth.

Laughing.

Grunting.

I hate them all.

I’m nothing but a toy, a fuck-toy.

My hair is yanked as I’m forced to choke and gag on some prospect dick while another fucks me. I can’t breathe, the force of hitting the back of my throat over and over again. Suddenly I’m being lifted, placed down on top of someone.

A hard slap to my thigh jolts me, and the worst pain of it all. I’m being split in two; a cock is shoved into my ass.

“She’s loving this…all three holes filled.”

I would cry out if I could, but I can’t. All I can do is hope this is over soon, hoping I die and that I never have to see them again. Muffled screams, pain shoots all over my body.

The voice drowns out, letting myself escape to the black hole that once was the only way of surviving.

I’m nothing again.

I’m fucked over and over again, laughter filling the air. I’m no longer screaming or crying. I’m no longer living.

Zion

Pain races through my veins, ripping me apart. My heart speeds up as I limp around the small living area. My brain works in overdrive, the thoughts making everything too loud, the clinking of Killian and Aziza on their laptops making my skin itch.

“Have you found anything?” I grit out. Biting my cheek, I flex my fist over and over again. My fingers itching for my gun.

“Not in the past two minutes since you asked,” Aziza snarks back. Stopping in my steps, I glare over at her. Moments from shoving the gun against my old best friend's temple and pulling the trigger. Killian must sense this because he nudges Aziza who glances up. “Shit, sorry. We’re working, I promise.”

Going back to pacing around, I twirl the knife in my hand. It’s been fourteen hours since she was taken, thirteen since I pulled that bullet from my thigh, ten since I called Gabriel to tell him his sister was taken, five since Killian and Aziza arrived to help track her down.

So far nothing.

I should've trusted my gut and not gone. I should have told her no, told her a million things. I just wanted to make her happy, and now I’ve failed her. Failed her and Gabriel. I didn’t even know what happened until it was too late.

The front door barges open, and a very angry Gabriel marches in throwing a punch into my face. I’ll give it to him; he corrected his thumb, and the punch is solid. But what I don’t expect is another punch to my dick.

I stumble, gripping the wall to hold myself up.

"Where is she!” he screams, tears streaming down his face.

“I’m so sorry,” is all I’m able to mumble before he’s shoving at me. I hit the wall, sliding down as his knee connects with my nose. “Fuck,” I hiss. My nose is definitely broken now. But I don’t stop him. I let Gabriel kick and punch me over and over again. Blood pours down my face.

“Gabriel, stop this!” Ma yells somewhere behind him.

“Where is she!” Gabriel is yelling.

“Get off him!” Killian moves Gabriel off me, dragging a kicking and screaming teenager across the room. “Jesus’ fuck, is this what I have to look forward to?”he mutters.

“Honey, I don’t think any boys will even be going near her, don't worry.” Aziza laughs, tapping away at her computer.