Their Kitten: Chapter 8

I can’t stop the tears that roll down my cheeks as I peel my dress off. As if the original time wasn’t enough, the violence and brutality of my second session with them will haunt me for days to come.

My mind still struggles to come to terms with what happened down there. I try to rationalize whatever fucked up reason they could’ve had to do what they did, but I keep coming up blank. Why do they want to know my name so badly anyway? The whole point of being at the club was so that we could all have anonymity and privacy, as well as the safety of the bouncers. But the way that Tristan and Talon transformed in Hell felt as if they were doing it because they have something to lose.

What do they think I plan to do?

I turn on the shower and wait until the water is as hot as it can get before I step in. I’m not delusional to think that losing my virginity wouldn’t be messy, but this was overkill. And that’s a freaking understatement.

If Talon hadn’t stopped Tristan, he probably would’ve tried to kill me. They’re so set on knowing my name, which means that they still don’t know who I am. Or maybe they have an idea of who I am and want confirmation. I can’t be sure, but at least I don’t have to see them again.

So many purple bruises cover my ass and the backs of my thighs, all of them sore to the touch. The water from the shower hitting me is painful, even though the water pressure in this shitty apartment sucks. I clean myself as best as the pain will allow and finally wrap up the shower when the ache becomes too much. I slowly pat myself down and pull on a pair of loose pajama pants and a tank top before curling up on my bed, wincing.

Silent tears soak my pillow as I lie there, reliving the nightmare I’ve endured today. When I got up this morning, I didn’t imagine that things would end the way they did. I was prepared to be a little sore, as to be expected when having sex with two guys for the first time ever. But I didn’t expect to be bruised and abused.

And I definitely hadn’t expected it to be at the hands of Tristan and Talon, two men I’d put behind me a long time ago.

“It’s okay. I’m going to be okay now,” I murmur to myself and take a cleansing breath. Today may have sucked, but instead of two hundred thousand dollars, I’ll now have double that. Not only will I have enough to buy any car I want, I can even move to a safer, nicer place.

I roll over onto my side with a sniffle and think of all the other things I can do with the extra money I’ll have. My opportunities have changed drastically, at least. I can now go to school, get a good job, and finally have the life I’ve always dreamed of.

But at what cost? The bitter thought brings fresh tears to my eyes again. The cost of a better life almost killed me today. The cost of a better life was my dignity, my innocence, my morality.

It’s cost me everything, not just my virginity and two hours of time.

I don’t know when I fall asleep, but I’m jolted awake by a crash from my living room.

I sit up in bed and am quickly reminded of my injuries when pain overwhelms me. I rapidly blink my eyes to try to adjust to the growing dark. For a moment, I think that I might’ve just dreamed that I heard something until another noise comes from the living room.

My heart thunders in my chest as I feel under my pillow and grab the knife that I keep there just in case, and carefully get out of my bed. I wince in pain when the soreness reignites and scurry across my small bedroom to my closet. I curse under my breath when the closet door squeaks a little, but I quickly enter the closet and close the door, praying whoever is inside will just take whatever they came to get and leave without finding me.

I hold my breath when heavy footsteps appear in my room. My hand clutches the handle of the knife even tighter as I prepare myself to fight if I have to. I swear, life has seriously been fucking me over today. Who did I kill in another life to deserve this current shit show that I’m living in?

The closet door is snatched open, and I scream, blindly swinging the knife. A familiar, deep male voice mutters a curse as he fights against me. I shriek in pain when he disarms me and manages to accidentally cut my arm. I clutch my arm and glare at him, finally noticing Tristan standing a few feet away.

“Oh, shit, I didn’t mean to do that,” Talon quickly apologizes. I push him away from me and clutch my arm.

“What the fuck are you two doing in my apartment?!” I scream. “Get the fuck out.”

“Not until you give us answers,” Tristan demands.

“I don’t have to explain anything to you,” I fire back.

Tristan takes a menacing step forward and sneers at me. “The fuck you don’t!”

“Is that a deep cut?” Talon asks, ignoring Tristan’s ranting. “Maybe we should get you to a hospital⁠—”

“She’s not going any-fucking-where until she tells us what we want to know,” Tristan interrupts as he takes another step toward me.

“I don’t know how you two got in here, but you need to leave immediately before I call the police,” I threaten. My voice trembles a little bit, and I know it only makes me look weak in front of them.

They share a look between the two of them before Tristan smirks at me. “You know what? That’s a good idea. And when they get here, maybe you can explain why you’re essentially committing fucking fraud by having your apartment in the name of a dead woman.” My blood runs cold at his words as I watch him pull out his phone. “So who’s calling? Me or you?”

I nervously shuffle my weight from foot to foot. Everything in me wants to end this nightmare with them and just tell them the truth, but I know the truth will only make matters worse. I don’t even know why they’re here or how they know that I put my apartment in their mother’s name. Do they think I’m going to tell people they’ve been at the club or something? The way they’re essentially hunting me makes no sense.

What are they going to do once they know who I am? Kill me?

No matter what they plan to do with the information, I can’t tell them. I want to tell them the truth if it means that they’ll leave me alone quicker. I want to tell them who I really am and why I chose a fake name, but I don’t want them to see just how far I’ve fallen from grace. I don’t want to taint the image of me they remember from all those years ago, the girl I wish I still was…

“That’s what I thought.” Tristan tucks his phone in his pocket and folds his arms across his chest. “Now, which do you want to tell us first? Your name or the reason you have your apartment in a name that isn’t yours?”

“Why does it matter to you?” I huff. “Why are you guys still bothering me? You got your two hours⁠—”

“I’m the one asking the questions,” he grinds out. Talon puts a hand on his chest and frowns.

“Will you relax?” he hisses. “You’ve tried the ‘scary, bad guy’ shtick already, and you see what good that did.” Talon’s concerned eyes fall on my pajama pants. “How long has that been going on?”

“What are you…” My sentence trails off when I lower my gaze and notice the blood dripping along my arm and down my clothes.

“If you’re still bleeding, you probably need stitches,” Talon continues. “We should get you to a hospital.”

“I’m not going anywhere with you psychotic fucks,” I snap. “The only thing I want is for the two of you to get out of my apartment.”

“If you don’t get to a hospital, you can slowly bleed out or be at risk of an infection.” Talon’s frown deepens as he watches me. “Now isn’t the time to be difficult.”

“Why the hell do you even care? It’s your fault I’m bleeding to begin with.”

“Boo fucking hoo,” Tristan drawls and rolls his eyes.

Talon gives him a pointed look before concentrating on me. “Look, fight with us later, but we need to get you help.” When I don’t say anything, he sighs deeply. “We’ll leave you alone if you let us do this.”

“What?” Tristan’s hard gaze snaps to his brother, but Talon never takes his eyes off of me.

I stare at him for a long moment. If doing this one thing will get them to finally leave me alone without me having to give them more information, then I’m willing to do that.

“Fine,” I agree with a sigh. “Let’s go then.”