“Would someone please gag this bitch? For fuck’s sake. I’m so tired of listening to her. Does anyone have a strip of fabric or something?”
Grecia shrank back in horror, kicking harder, fighting with all her strength. She was no match for these men. There were twenty of them. At least ten were pacing around her waiting their turn. The other ten were doing the same thing to Cora across the room of this rundown warehouse in the middle of nowhere.
“Use her panties,” someone shouted in a taunting voice that made her blood run cold. “She won’t need them anymore anyway.” He leaned over her and spat on her face. “We ain’t lettin’ no bitch traveling with us wear fuckin’ panties. All they do is get in the way when I want to fuck her cunt.”
The man cackled as he stepped back one pace. A moment later, he lifted one leg and kicked Grecia in the side.
The air rushed from her lungs. Pain blindsided her. She drew her knees up and squeezed them tight, trying to pull into a ball. It was impossible because two of the men were holding her arms, tugging so hard it felt like they would pull them out of the sockets.
A moment later, someone leaned over her, their shadow looming in a way that told her things were about to get worse. Sure enough, the man slapped her so hard across the face that her head whipped to the side. Pain shot from her jaw down her shoulder and arm and chest.
Her head was pounding. Blood ran down her face. Her eye swelled so fast she lost half her vision. Blood vessels must have busted around the eye socket.
Someone grabbed the front of her shirt and yanked hard.
She cried out, fear giving her renewed strength.
“Shut that bitch up already!”
Grecia could no longer hear Cora crying. She didn’t know if her friend was dead or had been gagged the way these men were threatening her.
A knife flashed in front of Grecia’s face. She stared in horror, frozen, wondering why they would stab her before they’d had their way with her. She knew what these thugs wanted. She’d known it from the moment she and Cora had been kidnapped from the back steps of the shelter where they’d been living.
These bands of militia moved across the country taking what they wanted and leaving havoc in their wake. At this point, Grecia thought it might be better if they simply killed her now. Easier. At least she wouldn’t have to endure the rape.
The man with the knife laughed. “Ain’t nobody gonna hurt you, whore.” He slid the knife under the edge of her shirt and yanked upward so hard and fast the material quickly gave way.
It was ironic that he’d said no one would hurt her. She’d been so badly injured that if they stopped now it would take weeks to heal from her injuries.
Grecia screamed as loud as she could when the man bent down again and set the knife on her chest. It seemed as though he’d lied. He was going to stab her right in the heart.
He hesitated a moment, laughing again, before flicking the knife right under the edge of her bra, destroying it and sending it popping apart in both directions. She couldn’t even cover herself.
Humiliation sent heat up her body as her breasts were exposed to the taunting men. Multiple hands reached out to greedily squeeze her breasts. More pain as they pinched her nipples hard.
“Those are some fucking fine tits, bitch. I’m going to enjoy fucking your chest while my boys squeeze them around my cock.” He unzipped his pants.
“Please, don’t. Let me go,” she begged, her voice too hoarse for anyone to hear her anymore. All she had left were her screams.
“Don’t get your dick out yet, Bronx,” the man who seemed to be their leader ordered. “I mean it. Fucking muffle that bitch before I lose my cool.” The asshole glared at her, hands on his hips, staring while his men did the dirty work of holding her down and tormenting her.
“Someone get her jeans off.” That voice came from her left.
Hands descended. She tried to kick and fight them off, but she was no match. Two men held her legs down while two men opened her jeans and jerked them off her body.
“Oh, good,” the leader sneered. “Her panties are huge. A thong would never fill her fucking pie hole. Get them off.”
The knife appeared again. This time she wasn’t as panicked. She knew they weren’t going to stab her yet, but she still screamed as the man cut away her panties before slicing the straps of her bra next, leaving it in tatters under her.
She was completely naked now, and the leader bent down to grab the scrap of cotton panties she’d been wearing. He balled them up and leaned over her. “Open your fucking mouth, bitch. If you’re good, we’ll take your panties out and let you suck our cocks later. Right now, we’re all in the mood for some tight cunt.”
The leader grabbed her jaw, yanked hard to force her to part her lips, and stuffed the panties into her mouth. The sound of something ripping sent chills down her spine, and a moment later a thick piece of tape covered her mouth, forcing the cotton deeper.
For a moment she thought she might suffocate. Her nose was partially obstructed. Her eyes went wide as she panicked again.
“You blocked her nose, you douchebag,” the leader pointed out.
After a quick adjustment, she could breathe again. Not well, but enough to stay alive. Though Grecia wasn’t at all sure she wanted to stay alive at this point.
Fight, she screamed into her head. Fight for your life. Close your eyes and ignore them. They might be able to rape you one at a time, but don’t let them take your spirit.
“Let me see that cunt, bitch. I bet it’s nice and tight,” the leader shouted.
Grecia arched her chest, bucking wildly, trying to get away. It was useless to even attempt it. There were too many of them. They were stronger. They could hold her down without even tiring themselves out.
“Spread your legs, whore,” the man named Bronx shouted. His was the only name she’d heard so far. Not that it mattered.
Hands grabbed her. So many hands. She was yanked flat on her back on the hard concrete floor. Two hands held her arms up above her head. Two arms pulled her legs so wide she thought she was going to split in two.
Still she struggled, screaming futilely into the gag.
A foot landed on her chest between her breasts. The leader stared down at her as he rocked forward, his toe cutting off her airway at her neck. He glared daggers at her. “This is your life now, whore. If you accept it and stop fighting, you’ll live. If you’re stubborn and continue to struggle, we’ll stab you dozens of times and leave you to bleed out painfully while we find us another whore who has better manners. Am I understood?”
Grecia’s one eye was wide, and she held her breath.
“Nod that you understand,” he ordered.
She nodded. She nodded to save her life. She nodded because it was the only thing she could do at the moment to survive to see the next moment.
The leader lifted his weight from her windpipe but left his boot on her chest.
Grecia gasped for oxygen through her nose. It didn’t seem like enough.
The moment fingers touched her pussy, she arched and screamed again. Almost no sound escaped around the gag and the tape, but she screamed anyway.
“Hey Bronx, since you’re so horny, why don’t you blow one off in your palm to lubricate her cunt with your spunk?” someone shouted.
Grecia closed her eyes, willing this to be… She didn’t even know what to wish for. Death? That she not be permanently harmed? Was one option better than the other?
She didn’t realize she was still fighting against the hands holding her down until something whipped through the air, the whistling sound making her heart stop. She recognized the sound. She’d heard it many times in her life. It was a crop. The headmaster used one at the school for girls where Grecia had been raised. Any time a girl misbehaved, he would make a spectacle out of her by forcing her to hold her dress up in front of everyone and bend over the desk. He would pull the child’s panties down to her knees and whip her with the crop.
Grecia knew that sound, and she knew she was about to experience the worst pain she’d ever felt in her life. Time stood still while the whooshing sound swished through the air.
She screamed louder than ever.
“Grecia…” Someone was calling her name. How did they know her name? No one had asked her what her name was. They’d simply referred to her as bitch or cunt or whore for the last several hours.
“Grecia.” It was louder this time. The voice was wrong. The diction was off. The voice sounded educated.
People were holding her down though. They were going to rape her.
When she screamed again, she was surprised to hear her own voice so loudly in her ears. How was that possible through the gag? Had they taken it out? Had she blacked out?
She realized she had indeed blacked out. Burning pain consumed her from her shoulders to her feet. Muscles pulled too tight. Her pussy… Wait? Hadn’t the crop hit her right on her pussy? How long ago had that been? Had they raped her yet?
Wait… There was no pain. Something was off.
She yanked her eyes open, surprised they weren’t swollen shut, especially the right one. Lights were on. She squinted against the brightness. Blinding lights.
She was gasping and sweating and confused as she stared up at… Not the leader of the militia. Not any of his rough filthy men. This man was clean-shaven with a nice haircut. His expression was filled with his own kind of fear and caring, not hatred and evil.
Someone released her and she jerked her arms toward her chest to cover her nudity. Except she wasn’t naked. She was wearing a nightgown. She was sweating so badly that she was soaked and suddenly shivering.
“Honey, you’re okay. You’re safe. It’s just us.” Jeremy’s voice.
Grecia rolled onto her side and curled into a ball, trying to catch her breath.
Someone else sat on the side of the bed at her feet. A third person stood near her head. Fingertips stroked her hair from her face. “I’m so sorry we held you down. We were afraid you were going to hurt yourself.” A kind familiar voice. Dawson.
A hand landed on her foot, not gripping her, just patting gently. That would be Elias. She sensed that Jeremy had squatted down in front of her.
She was trembling violently now. It wouldn’t stop.
“How about some water, honey?” Jeremy suggested. “You’re shivering too. You’re chilled from sweating.”
Elias pulled a cover over her soaked body. It helped a little. Not enough. Nothing could chase away the violent trembling.
She squeezed her eyes closed though she knew she should open them to fully ground herself in reality. She wasn’t in that warehouse about to get raped by ten men. She was safe here. Safe at the compound. Hiding from the bad people.
“You were flailing so badly, honey,” Jeremy explained.
“I’m sorry,” she murmured.
“No reason to be sorry, Grecia,” Dawson said gently.
“Can you look at me, honey?” Jeremy asked.
She squished into a tighter ball. Wait… Where was the baby? Suddenly, she jerked her eyes open. “Amelia?”
“She’s asleep in her crib,” Elias informed her.
Grecia blew out a breath. “Was I loud?”
Jeremy nodded.
“You had a nightmare,” Dawson stated unnecessarily. She was beyond aware of that fact. “We didn’t want to hurt you or make things worse, but you were very agitated.”
“I’m sorry,” she said again. She couldn’t stop herself.
Elias patted her foot again. “We’re sorry too, sweetheart.”
She drew in a deep breath, but nothing would stop the shaking.
“Why don’t you change clothes, honey,” Jeremy suggested. “You’ve been sweating for a while.”
She pulled her arms in tight and groaned. “I need to pump or feed Amelia.”
“Okay. That too.” Jeremy rose to his feet. “We’ll leave the room so you can change.”
“When did Amelia eat?” she asked.
“It’s been three hours. You want to try to feed her instead?” Dawson suggested.
As if on cue, whimpering sounds came from the other room.
“Good timing,” Elias said. “I’ll get her. You change. I’ll be back.” He left the room in front of everyone else.
Dawson followed.
Jeremy stayed behind. “Will you be okay for a minute? You’re still shaking.”
“I think so.” Suddenly everything felt overwhelming. She didn’t want to get up and change. She didn’t want to feed the baby. She was too heavy and tired and emotionally drained to move even if both of those things would make her more comfortable.
Jeremy’s brows were furrowed and he squatted back down in front of her, putting them at eye level. He set his hand, palm up, near hers.
She lowered her gaze to his broad hand and slowly eased one of hers out from under the covers to grab on to him. She held on so tight, and somehow it calmed her racing heart. Like someone had tossed her a lifeboat in raging waters.
Jeremy gently wrapped his much larger hand around hers, keeping it loose. Carefully making her feel safe without restricting her.
A tear escaped her eye and slid down her face.
“I’ve got you, Grecia,” he whispered. “You’re not alone. You’ll never be alone.”
Another tear fell. Tears of relief. She took a deep breath as the tears continued. “Thank you,” she barely murmured. She surprised herself when she pulled his hand in under the covers and hugged it against her cheek. “Thank you,” she repeated.
She’d been at her breaking point yesterday when somehow the stars aligned to bring her help. It came in the form of three men, and she struggled to trust men. Usually they scared the hell out of her. But these three had proven over and over in the last day that they meant her no harm. Could she trust them?
She pulled in another deep breath, filling her lungs as if they hadn’t been fully inflated in over a year. Her body was still shaking but not as violently. “I’m not sure I can stand,” she admitted. “I’m not sure I want to.”
“How about a bath?” he suggested. “Warm water will chase away the chills and then dry clothes. I can change your sheets while you soak.”
“The baby…”
“I bet we can keep her entertained until you’re ready to feed her.”
Grecia considered her plight. There was no way she could climb into a relaxing bath right now. She was engorged. “Do you have enough milk in the fridge to feed her?”
“Yes. You want to pump instead?”
“If you don’t mind?”
“Not at all. Whatever is easiest for you, honey.”
Grecia bit her lip. She didn’t have choices here. She had responsibilities. Another human was counting on her to not give up and crawl into a corner. She needed to keep up her milk supply. She didn’t have the option of deciding she’d rather go back to sleep, wet and engorged and cold.
“I’ll warm myself up in the tub and then pump in the bathroom.” Hopefully her breasts would tolerate the slight delay so she could warm up first.
“Okay.” Jeremy didn’t move.
Suddenly, Grecia realized she was still gripping his hand against her. “Oh, sorry.” She abruptly released him.
He smiled. “Happy to help.” He rose to his feet, picked up the pump from the end table, and headed for the bathroom. There was only one bathroom in the apartment. Everyone who stayed here shared it, but in this world, having a bathroom with running water was a luxury. Sharing it with only those living in your apartment was heaven.
Grecia slowly eased to sitting, swinging her bare feet over the side of the bed. Before she could stand, Dawson was in the doorway. “Want some help?”
Grecia smiled at him and found herself nodding. “Please.” She didn’t have the energy to be strong and brave right now. All her strong and brave had run out. Conveniently, three people were in her space offering a shoulder to lean on, literally. She needed to accept their help.
Dawson rushed across the room. “Can I help you stand?”
She nodded.
He gently bent at the knees and slid his hand around her back. “I’ve got you.”
She rose to her feet, feeling like she’d been in the hospital for a month or something. Depleted. The nightmare had caused it. She hadn’t had that particular one for a while, and it always sucked the life out of her.
It was always the same. It started not from the moment she and Cora had been abducted and thrown into a van but from inside the warehouse where they’d been taken. It always ended with the violent swoosh of the crop through the air, a fraction of a second before it struck her pussy.
It wasn’t that it hadn’t happened. It had. They had struck her. She had no idea how many times because in real life she passed out right before the pain. In the aftermath, she always woke up from the nightmare in that same moment.
Dawson helped her to the bathroom and eased her to sit on the closed toilet seat.
“Shoot. I need clothes.”
“Can I grab something?”
“Would you mind?” She tipped her head back to look up at him.
“Not at all.”
“Top shelf in my drawers. Another nightgown.”
“I’ve got it.” Dawson turned and left her there. He was back in less than a minute, setting a clean nightgown and panties on the vanity. Bless him. “Anything else?”
“No. Thank you.”
The pump was also on the vanity, and Jeremy leaned in the doorway.
“You good?” He held out a bottle of water. “You’re going to need to hydrate.”
She smiled at him. There was no way to express her gratitude. Today was her breaking point. Today was the day Fate put help in her path.
Moments later, she was alone in the bathroom as the door snicked shut. For a moment she simply sat there, depleted of energy, trying to breathe deeply. For some reason it had been easier to breathe while holding Jeremy’s hand. Now that he wasn’t in the room, she felt the walls closing in again.
It wasn’t logical. But it was true.
Hoping she could soak without her breasts protesting, she leaned over to turn on the water and put the stopper in the tub. Next, she pulled the soaked nightgown over her head and dropped it on the floor. Before the tub had begun to fill, she climbed in anyway and leaned back.
Warm water rose around her. A luxury she would never take for granted. So was the tub/shower combination. She’d had baths when she’d been young at the girls’ home, but the women’s shelter she later moved to had only had communal showers.
Fourteen months ago, she’d been abducted. In all that time, the only bathing she’d done had been in streams or the occasional lake. She’d rarely been given soap.
Shockingly, none of the men had cared how badly she and Cora smelled. They raped them both regularly no matter what. Of course, all of them smelled like shit too, so they probably didn’t notice.
As soon as the water rose high enough, Grecia slid down under, letting her head dip into the water. Her hair floated all around her. It needed washing anyway, even though it was the middle of the night. It was down to her butt.
When she sat up, she grabbed the shampoo and managed to wash and condition her hair, soap her body, and soak for a few minutes more before her breasts went into full revolt mode, too engorged to wait any longer.
The nice thing about pumping—now that she had people to feed the baby in another room—was that she could completely drain herself instead of worrying about Amelia falling asleep halfway through.
She felt one hundred times better after she’d warmed up in the tub, dried off, combed out her hair, pumped, and put on clean nightclothes. She almost felt human.
When she opened the door to step into the main room, she was surprised to find all three men sitting in the living space. They all straightened and turned their attention to her.
She felt self-conscious as she hurried to the fridge to put the bottle inside. When she turned around, she crossed her arms. The nightgown covered her, but she felt oddly exposed. Probably a result of the nightmare still lingering.
Grecia always felt out of sorts for a few days after that particular nightmare. Mostly because it wasn’t a nightmare. It was a reality she’d lived through. Haunting her whenever it pleased.
Jeremy stood and held a blanket up, coming toward her to wrap it around her. “Would you like to sit for a minute or go back to bed?”
She appreciated the gesture and the warmth, so she shuffled over to the open armchair and curled up in the bucket seat, tucking her legs under her. “Thank you. All of you. I feel much better.”
“I changed your sheets. Hopefully you can sleep several more hours,” Jeremy said.
She smiled at him. “I guess Amelia went back to sleep?”
“Like an angel,” Elias confirmed. “Sucked down every drop of milk and nodded off. She’s in her crib. I’ll sleep in there with her tonight in case she wakes up again.”
“You’re all a godsend.”
“We’re just humans helping another human out. It’s what people do,” Dawson said from the other armchair.
She shook her head. “Not most people. Maybe down here in this bunker, but you know good and well that the majority of society above ground has become savage and inhumane.”
Dawson nodded. He knew. He knew things no one should know. He’d been through things no human should face. She’d heard some of his story this morning at the group meeting. It had made her chest seize. She had her own burden to carry, but in some ways, she thought what he’d gone through was worse. Watching another person suffer was harder to bear than one’s own suffering.
Dawson nodded again. “It’s true. It takes time to trust people. I struggled for a long time when I got here. I had nightmares like you. Not the same ones I’m sure, but I woke up screaming more than a few times. It never goes away, but it gets easier.”
“He’s right,” Elias agreed. “We’ve been friends since we were kids. Dawson’s wife…” He drew in a deep breath and stared at his feet before lifting his gaze and looking at Dawson. “Stacy was my friend too. I wasn’t married to her, but I felt her loss deeply. I’m sorry we don’t talk about it enough. It’s hard.”
Dawson smiled at his friend. “I know you miss her too.”
Grecia cleared her throat. “And you had a child?” she asked gently. She got that impression, but she wasn’t sure.
Dawson nodded. “Justin. Cutest baby ever.” He smiled. “Except for Amelia of course.”
Grecia smiled back. It felt weird. Smiling. Unnatural. She didn’t know when she’d last smiled. “I bet he was just as cute.”
“Babies are all cute,” Elias added.
“Truth,” Jeremy agreed. “Except the ugly ones. And no one ever mentions that out loud.”
They all chuckled.
Grecia took another deep breath. Not deep enough though.
Suddenly, without overthinking, she rose and moved toward the sofa where Jeremy and Elias were sitting on opposite ends. She lowered cautiously between them and then leaned to one side, pulling her legs up against Elias’s and setting her cheek on Jeremy’s thigh.
Jeremy set his hand carefully on her shoulder.
Yes. This. Grecia took a deep breath and let it out slowly. It hadn’t been a coincidence. She really could breathe easier when he was touching her.
Elias set his hand on her ankle over the covers. “Rest, sweetheart.”
She thought she might finally be able to do just that. She closed her eyes and relaxed her muscles. She had a fleeting thought that no one else was going to be able to rest if they had to watch her and also take care of the baby, but all she could focus on was how good it felt to be treated kindly and gently.
It meant the world. It filled a huge void that had never really been filled in her life. She drifted off to the feel of Jeremy’s palm rubbing her shoulder.