Mason glares at me as he brings in a small tray of food. I flinch back at his angry face. I don't know what I did to make him to so angry at me. He sits the tray down on the nightstand next to the bed and instead of walking out like he normally does, he just stares at me, his arms crossed.
"You're lucky that I need this money," he says. "If I had it my way, you and your snot-nosed brother would both be dead by now."
A little bit of anger goes through me and I spit out the retort before even realizing it. "Don't talk about Caleb like that." Mason just chuckles. "Or what? You're not really in the position to be making threats kid."
"What do you want," I ask. "Do you just want to make fun of me or is there something else?" Before I know it, Mason is in front of me, his hand wrapped tightly around my throat.
"I don't take kindly to being talked to like that kid. Unless you want to end up dead, you'd best watch your mouth."
He won't doing anything to me. He said it himself. He needs the money and he wouldn't risk losing it by hurting me. But I can't feel protected by that thought. Mason is technically clinically insane at this point. There's no telling what he can and will do. I just have to be careful.
I look back at Mason but don't say anything. He takes something out of the back of his pocket and brings it near my face. I hear a click and a shiny knife stares me in the eye. One jerk of his hand and my eye is done for. Mason chuckles and takes the knife away from my face. Suddenly, he swings his arm and I feel a sting on my cheek. I touch it gently and wince. I look at my hand and a smear of blood decorates it.
Mason smirks and puts the knife away. "Take that as a warning. Don't fuck with me." He walks out of the room. I sigh in relief and let my body relax from the tension that had built up. I look at the tray of food. I peanut butter and jelly sandwich and a glass of water. I'm about to reach for the food when I realize something. What if they put drugs in this too? I open the sandwich to look for any drug remnants but there's nothing there. I look at the water, contemplating whether or not I should drink it. I mean, it looks normal, but they could also have put drugs in it and let them dissolve.
I decide to not eat the food. I sit back against the bed and pull my knees up to my chest.
A few hours later, my dad walks in the room. He smiles at me then looks at the tray of food. "Why didn't you eat bug?" I don't want to tell him that I don't trust him to not put drugs in my food, so I just settle for an, "I'm not hungry."
He frowns and sits next to me on the bed. I slowly move away from him. "I didn't put anything in your food." I still don't trust him. My dad sighs and picks up the sandwich. He brings the food to my mouth, telling me to open up. When I don't, his face gets a little stern. "Jace you have to eat. I don't want to have to punish you." The threat is enough to make me take a bite of the small sandwich. When I don't feel anything weird, I take another small bite. My dad smiles and ruffles my hair. I think about glaring at him, but at this point he's a convicted rapist and is technically insane. I don't want to set him off.
My dad sits the sandwich down and sits back against the large headboard. He puts his hands under my arms and picks me up, putting me in his lap. My chest tightens and I try not to panic. I take deep breaths. In and out. In and out.
His hands go under my shirt and touch my back. I flinch and he pushes me, forcing me into his chest. I put my hands on his chest and try to push myself away from him, but he firmly holds me there. His hands run down my back and go towards my ass. When he squeezes it tightly, I jump and he chuckles.
Then he pushes me back on the bed so that he is over top of me. I look up at him in fear. I squeeze my eyes tightly when tears threaten to fall from them. I know what's coming next. My shirt comes off. When he tries to take off my pants, he can't because of the chain attached to my ankle. He takes out a knife similar to Mason's from his back pocket and hold it to my pants. It's sharp enough to cut through the material and I'm stiff as a board, nervous that he'll cut me. He does the same to my boxers and puts the knife back into his pocket.
Suddenly, I feel a finger enter into me and I cry out. He puts 2 more fingers inside without warning, shoving them in and out of me. The familiar wetness of blood leaks out of me. When he takes his fingers out of me, they're covered in blood. To my shock and disgust, he licks the blood off of his fingers. I think I throw up a little in my mouth. Dad smirks at me and starts to remove his clothes. He's only in his boxers when I start kicking and screaming.
Dad pins my arms down next to me and sits on my legs so that I can't kick him. Without thinking, I bring my head up full-force onto his and head butt him. A sharp pain goes through my skull but I ignore it. When he lets go off my arms to rub his head, I punch and scratch his face. My dad's weight is lifted from me for a moment and I take the opportunity to kick his crotch. He cries out in pain and I slide from beneath him. I forget about the chain on my ankle and I fall to the floor when I try to run towards the door.
The chain attached me is pulled back, forcing me to go with it. I'm still on my stomach kicking and screaming when he suddenly enters me. My breath leaves my body and when I finally feel the pain, I scream. My dad roughly thrusts in and out of me. I can't get away and my body is hit with sharp pain. I can hear my skin tearing, making me cry out. Blood begins to leave my body faster now and soon covers the floor. My dad grabs my hair and pulls it, forcing the top half of my body to leave the floor. I can feel the hair being ripped out of my scalp and I try to lift higher in attempt to lessen the pain.
He begins to lick and suck on my neck, leaving marks. He bits too hard on my shoulder and it draws blood. The blood runs down my arm and drips on the floor. He lets go of my hair and I flop down on the floor. He doesn't stop his movements though, roughly moving his hips.
I lay on the floor for hours, being mercilessly fucked by my dad. Once he's done, he doesn't to give me clothes. He leaves me there on the floor covered in blood, sweat, and tears as he gets dressed and leaves the room.
Mason comes in a while later, throwing a towel and floor cleaner on the floor near my head. "Clean up. I don't need blood staining the floor." He leaves back out of the room without a second thought.
Eventually, I sit up and take the towel in my hands. I wet it with the floor cleaner and I begin to scrub the floor. It takes hours for me to get all of the blood off the floor. Once I'm finished, it hurts too much to sit on my butt, so instead I lay on the floor. The bed is coated in blood and I don't have it in me to take the sheets off. I just lay on the floor and the tears finally fall.
YOU ARE READING
Dancing With The Devil
Teen Fiction(Sequel to The White Rabbit) It's been a year since Jace and his older brother Caleb put their father in jail. Since then, Jace has tried to make his life as normal as possible. But when demons from the past come to light, how does Jace handle this...
