Save Me 18+ Sequel to Protect Me✔️

Chapter 23 Refusal To Be A Victim✔️

A/N

This chapter comes with the attempted SA trigger warning that I mentioned before the start of the book and at the end of the last chapter.

While part of it may be hard to read... I assure you it ends on a brighter note than what it starts.

Still, if you are easily triggered by these kinds of scenes, please proceed with caution. OR SKIP ENTIRELY!

THE EVENTS IN THIS CHAPTER ARE ONLY BRIEFLY REFERENCED IN A COUPLE FUTURE CHAPTERS; THEY DO NOT GO INTO ANY KIND OF EXPLICIT DETAIL, SO IF YOU SKIP, IT IS FINE. I WILL ALSO ADD A BRIEF NON-DESCRIPTIVE RECAP AT THE BEGINNING OF THE NEXT CHAPTER SO THAT YOU DONT MISS ANY KEY STORY POINTS ❤️

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As he comes into the room and grabs me, shaking me by my shoulders like a rag doll, I can tell immediately that he is messed up. Drunk or high, it doesn't matter; his eyes are those of a mad man.

"I asked you a question." He slurs, backing me towards the bed.

"What are you?" I begin, but his loud, booming voice cuts me off, leaving me silent for fear of what he will do if I'm not.

"It's time you gave me what I've been waiting for, little Flower." He says. The sound of his voice, what he is insinuating, and the smell permeating off of him all turn my stomach.

I try to fight back, trying to remember my training and put it to use, but he easily overpowers me. I am still weaker than I normally am, and he is in some kind of hyped-up drug rage; it is like a toddler trying to wrestle with a lion. And honestly, it doesn't matter what kind of training you have or how strong you are; in a situation such as this. I make a decision in my mind that no matter what happens next, my only goal is to survive.

I can hear the sounds of the others as they continue to ignore what is going on, instead still screaming at the TV, this time cheering because apparently the team they are rooting for has scored.

"Touchdown!" I hear Rich yell.

"They aren't the only ones ready to score." John slobbers as he stares down into my eyes, pentrating through my own.

He drags me out of the room and down the hallway into what was once River's old room, effortlessly tossing me towards the bed.

The purpose for this is unknown to me; the best I can figure, though it is the farthest thing from my mind, is that he takes me here because the walls are thicker and the bed is bigger, but who knows what goes on in the mind of a madman.

I sit up, swinging wildly at his face, actually landing a blow or two. If he is going to do this, then I will at least do what I can to make it harder for him.

He wrestles with me as he tries his best to force me down on the bed and onto my back.

I swing again, and he catches my hands, grabbing my wrists with little effort and pinning my legs with his against the edge of the bed.

"I told you I like it when they're fiesty." He licks his lips as he reaches down with one hand between us, undoing his pants and pulling his small, hard dick free.

"You fucking bastard." I spit, still fighting against his restraints.

"Oh, Sky, you are going to be so much fun to break. Look, Flower," he says, looking down. "See? My dick is hard just thinking about all the dirty shit you will soon be begging me to do." he says, hovering above me. Reaching down, he grabs ahold of himself and strokes his short length.

"You disgust me!" I spit, still struggling.

"That's what they all say. Then, when you all get a taste of it, you become the whores you've always been. Pretty soon, little Flower, you will be begging me to fuck you. "

He holds my wrists with one hand and reaches into his shirt pocket with the other.

He pulls out another syringe, though as my eyes shift over to it, its contents are different than the times before.

He keeps me pinned, putting his weight on me so I can't move. He pulls a band from his shirt pocket and somehow manages to wrap it tightly around my arm. With his weight on me, my arms are already rapidly becoming numb. All I can do is lay here and watch it happen.

He sticks the needle into my arm, and just as his finger lands on the plunger...

The door bursts open, and an enraged Marvin comes running in.

John pulls the needle out of my arm and holds it between his fingers.

"Get off of her, you bastard." He screams, enraged.

He starts toward the bed, toward John, but I see his eyes fall on the needle, and he pauses.

"Fuck off, old man; you can have your turn when I'm done." John answers unmoving. "My guess is she will be much more compliant by then, won't you?" He grabs my face and squeezes it.

"She's your fucking daughter!" Marvin screams at him, which distracts him just enough to loosen his grip, shifting his weight off of me a little.

I don't have time to think about or care about what Marvin has said; I just see an opportunity and have to take it. I twist my wrist out from under him, reach into my waistband, and grab hold of the letter opener.

Before he can react, I reach down and shove it upwards as hard as I can, deep into his exposed groin.

As it sinks in, we are both instantly drenched in blood. I don't let up as he reaches, wrapping his large hands around my throat.

I twist it deeper, and I manage to get out from under him when he lets me go, pulling back from the pain and falling towards the floor on his back.

I realize that this isn't because of the injuries I inflicted but because Marvin grabs him by the neck from behind, quite literally dragging him to the ground and off top of me.

Marvin and him shuffle on the ground, and an elbow to the nose sends Marvin backwards across the room.

Still on my back, I swing my right leg up and around, catching his jaw, and he falls backwards. I jump up and straddle him in his dazed state, the silver blade still sunk deep in his groin, his pants and underwear almost off of him now in our struggle.

I don't stop; I can't. I grab the letter opener again, pulling it completely out of him. I wrap my hand around it tightly and, this time, stab it into his shriveled sack.

I stand up, leaving the sterling blade behind once again.

"I refuse to be another one of your victims." I say spitting on his face.

He is losing a lot of blood and is notably weak and pale, but as I start to move over to help Marvin from the floor, he grabs my ankle, causing me to trip.

I hit the ground with a thud, my head striking the corner of the bed rails on the way down...

...

I groan in pain, the blood rushing to and out of the injured spot on my head.

I can feel as he grabs at my legs, pulling me backwards towards him across the floor on my stomach. I don't know how he even has the strength. I suppose whatever drugs he took are what are still fueling him now.

Everything is blurry and messed up, but I think—I hope—what I see is real.

I see Marvin get up from the floor with a large object in his hands...

All I know in the darkness of the room and as I pass out is that John's grip on me is gone, and I hear Marvin say...

"Like my daughter said, Skylar is no one's victim."