Freeing Anvi

Chapter Twenty-One

I've always found it difficult to stay awake in a car. 

The reason why evades me, but every time I've ever been in a car (with the exception of the ball), I've fallen asleep. It's been the cause of many of my punishments and each time I make sure to set in my mind that I won't fall asleep again, yet another trip comes along and I once again find myself succumbing to the gentle lulling of the motor underneath me. 

It's only the three of us in Jackson's BMW. I sit in the shotgun seat and Delia is behind me. She's quiet and tense the whole ride. She has an airpod in her ear and sometimes bounces her head to the tune of the music playing from her phone, but apart from that she hardly moves. 

I'm only awake long enough to see Jackson reach for the controls of the radio before I allow my eyes to flutter and let the darkness envelop me. It's my safe space, because if I see light, then I know I'll be hurt. The dark hides me and keeps me safe, and now that we're out of pack lines I have every reason to be hiding in my quiet corner. 

For a blissful hour or so, I sleep dreamlessly. Sometimes I can feel Jackson's hand hovering over mine or dragging over my leg, but apart from his touch, I'm numb to every other sense. 

Then, the nightmare begins. 

It's a form of slow torture, carefully peeking into my mind as its ugly tentacles wrap around the curtains of my mind and thrust them open. I'm blinded, thrown into the one place that I never want to step foot in again. 

Alpha Banastre's home. 

My stomach churns uneasily and tension weighs on my head like I'm attempting to balance dumbells above me. The room that I find myself in is as white as the teeth in a dental commercial and everywhere that I look, my eyes burn. 

Agh! I can't hear my voice, but my mouth is open. I try to stand. My knees immediately buckle and I'm pulled against the wall behind me. Two icy cuffs bite my wrists and seem to sink into my skin. 

You've come back, you silly girl, Alpha Banastre's voice looms above me, and I'm helpless. A slideshow of Adonis's lessons plays rapidly in my mind, but when Alpha Banastre tilts my head up, I freeze. His rough thumb goes over my jaw and my body recoils in disgust. It's nothing compared to the way that Jackson touches me. 

Let me go! I try to scream and shake my hands. Alpha Banastre cackles, and immediately a sharp crack echoes through the room. My cheek stings and a part of my lip bleeds into my mouth. 

Fucking whore, he swears, slapping me again. His hand fists my hair and he slams my head into the wall. I wish for it to crack and end my torture, but I'm mercilessly kept alive - blind, sore, and frightened, but alive. 

I'll show you what happens when you cross me, Alpha Banastre growls. There's a low hiss, then something warm is in front of my face, flickering across my skin. 

No! No! I cry, wiggling and shaking. It's all futile, though, and a part of me wishes I could just grab the flame and sink it into my chest myself to end my suffering, but I'm left with the vivid image of my torture; the result of my failure. 

The burn that stabs my stomach elicits a scream that could rival that of a banshee. Over and over, it goes in and out of my stomach and I helplessly cling to the chains that hold me against my will as Alpha Banastre works on his punishment. Alarms ring in my brain and the fire that suffocates me seems to be pulling my bones out of my body one by one, waiting for the crack to sound before yanking them. 

Please! Stop...stop! Jackson! Jackson, help! I shout weakly as I begin to accept my fate. Tears stream down my cheeks as hot as drops of boiling oil and Alpha Banastre rises to deliver the final blow...