Hello fellow Weekend Writing Warriors!
This is from my WIP Irrevocable, and a continuation from last week’s post.
The man clutching my hair had vivid green eyes, but they may as well have been black given the emotionless void they displayed. His hair was shaggy, brown with a mix of grey, the same colors that stood out in his unkempt stubble.
As if he needed any help looking rough.
He exhaled and his breath settled over my face, reeking of booze and cigarettes. The smell made me queasy, but I didn’t have time to dwell on that, as another set of hands tugged at my jeans.
My gaze traveled around the room, taking in the small crowd. At least half a dozen men surrounded the table where they had me spread out like a holiday feast. They all projected an air of unchecked danger, tattoos peeked around the collars of their dark shirts, their hands covered in callouses and scars.
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Sometimes when you can’t go back, the only way out is to descend into the darkness.
When I woke in that place, I just wanted to survive. But survival came at a cost, for which they demanded my will and body.
With pain came acceptance. Fully-dependent on the man who claimed me, I learned to appreciate what I had-life and relative safety.
I watched him spill blood and tend my injuries. With betrayal came a revelation.
The only way out was to bring them all down or die trying.
Warning: This isn’t your rainbows and love sonnets kind of romance. This story explores topics of abduction and slavery, and contains explicit scenes of dubious consent, graphic violence and sex
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