Page 65 of Saxon
"You're not making any sense. If no one would move against my employer, why did you protect me?"
"I loved you!" She yells. "I wouldn't say a word. Not to give you up, not to say that what happened between us wasn't real. He wanted me to say that you took advantage of me. I wouldn’t say you did."
"You should’ve just told him what he wanted to hear. Saved your own ass."
The mask cracks more: pain lines her features; rage is a rictus. "You know what my brothers did?" She jerks her dress down, baring her breasts.
The burn scars extend down her left side, halting abruptly. Her breasts are, objectively, perfect. A little too much so.
"What am I supposed to be seeing, Camilla?"
"I had to have them surgically reconstructed." She leaves her dress down, palms flat on the table. "My brothers carved them up, Saxon. Sawed off my nipples. They wanted to cut my clit off, but Father stopped them. I'm not sure why. Perhaps he drew a line somewhere, who knows? I have no sensation in my breasts at all, now. None, zero. Because of you."
Terra leans forward, elbows on knees. "Camilla, that's fucking awful. But—"
"SHUT UP! I've waited years to sit across from Saxon and tell him this. So you…you just…" She reaches into a drawer, pulls out a small handgun, and fires a shot—BAM. The round smacks into the wall beside Terra's head. "You shut up. You don't factor in this."
Terra sits back without a sound, but her face is pale and her hands shake.
"They tied me to a bed and let their friends run a train on me," Camilla whispers. "Left me tied to that bed for days, raping me." She licks her lips, and bites her lip. "Then they told the Cabal where I was. And then they did the same. I was tied to that bed for a week. I endured a hell you cannot ever imagine."
"Jesus fucking Christ," I whisper.
"Because of you."
"Why didn't you just give me up?"
"I did, but it didn't matter by then. They knew I was going to run away with you. I…I wish we had." She whispers this. Presses the side of her pistol barrel to her forehead. "You put me in a cab owned by my father and sent me to them. I still had your cum inside me. They couldn't punish you, so they punished me."
Terra pulls her gun out of her jacket pocket, places it on my lap, walks around the desk, spins Camilla's chair ninety degrees, and pulls her into a hug. Camilla doesn't fight it, and doesn't react for a long time. Terra just holds her.
For an uncomfortably long time, they remain like that, until Camilla abruptly and violently shoves Terra away, angrily dashing at her eyes with her wrist.
"Don't," She hisses. "Do fucking not."
Terra sinks to her knees. "It's not your fault. Nor is it his."
"I already killed them," Camilla says. "If I could, I’d bring them back to life just so I can kill them again."
"I know," Terra says.
"Oh? You do?" Camilla’s voice is dangerous. "Do tell."
"I was raped as a child by my dad's friends. Later, my friend killed them, all three of them. I was angry at him for not letting me do it. And the man who raped me as an adult…" she halts, voice quavering. "Well, he got off away too easy. Wrecked his motorcycle and died instantly. I had plans for him. I dreamed about cutting off his dick and feeding it to him piece by piece."
Camilla nods seriously. "That's what I did to my brothers. Well, I didn't feed it to them. I just cut them off, shoved them into their mouths, and duct-taped their mouths shut. I sent them to a pig farm I know of and had them fed, alive, to the hogs. The men who raped me? Well. They suffered far, far worse for far longer. Cabal men, my father's men, all of them. I bided my time. And then I killed my father and took over. With my brothers out of the way, the family business was mine. And I used every resource I had to track down the men who hurt me. Every single one. I personally tortured them until they begged for death, and I didn't give it to them. Especially the Cabal men. They were…the things they did to me…I did it to them. Except, since I don't have a dick to fuck them with, I used a hot curling iron."
"Fucking hell," I mutter, shuddering.
"Eyeballs, mouth, asshole. I cut their dickholes bigger and fucked them there, too."
Terra looks nauseas. Even I feel a little queasy.
“I get it, Camilla." I shake my head. "I’m sorry. Truly, I'm sorry. I thought putting you in the cab would get you help. I had no way of knowing—"
"I know!" She screams, standing up and pacing around the desk, stopping in front of me, gun in hand dangling at her thigh. "I fucking know. Why do you think you're not dead? I could have had you killed at your father and mother's funeral. Or at Luka's. Or any point along the way. I've watched you closely, waiting for the moment you left that club."
"What do you want, Camilla? I can't…" I shrug, gazing up at her. "I can't take your pain away. You wanna torture me too? Fine. Let Terra go and you can do what you want to me. I won't fight."
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