Draft version - Russian Roulette - Family secrets

Ch. 143: Of course, I enjoyed it

Gareth.

Her beloved Gareth was there?

Even from the small distance she saw him clearly. As clearly as possible through her tears.

He was sitting on a crate in his underwear with two big goons holding guns to his head.

Locked to the wall. Pale, like the blood had been drained from him, his skin looked sickly. He had lost weight; Mackenzie knew his body too well not to notice. His skin glistened in the light from a sheen of sweat covering him, she noticed small trembles in him when he breathed. It seemed strained.

That was when she allowed herself to look closer.

A booboo?

Gareth did not have a booboo like a kid, where a gentle blow and a mother's kiss would make everything better.

He was hurt.

Harmed.

The blue-purple bruises on his body made his skin look even more pale. Some places the bruises were almost black, speaking of massive bleeding under the skin.

His torso had big bruises on both sides around his ribcage. The breathing issues made sense seeing the bruises, she suspected his ribs had taken a solid pounding. His right leg sort of dangled, though still bond in a specific position. She saw the bruising and the way his foot was turning slightly blue. There were no bones protruding, the leg was broken, that much was for sure.

It looked painful.

That was when she noticed his left arm. It hung at an odd angle fully supported by the metal cuff around his blue-colored wrist pulling the chain to the wall taut. There was no question that his arm had been effectively put out of commission. It was almost one big black-ish bruise.

Mackenzie cringed at the sight.

She gasped out loud when she at last saw how his fingers were pointing in different directions. They looked swollen and again blue like his foot as if circulation were cut off.

Pained and worried, Mackenzie wanted to scream her horror out. Her wonderful Gareth. He looked so broken, not only physically broken, which was obvious.

But emotionally.

Not sure if she should, Mackenzie sought his face. It had not been harmed, at least she did not think so, the rugged, caveman beard hid most of his face.

She met his eyes and died a little.

Pain.

So much pain was in his amazing blue eyes, and he did nothing to hide it. What shocked her was the disgust he also made no effort in hiding.

Then she realized she was in the room she had been in the night before. Where King and his men had...

Oh, dear Lord.

No!

He had seen her. Seen her give King a blowjob and seen her be used by Iri and those two others.

He was right to be disgusted with her.

Her husband had seen how she had submissively eager given another man oral pleasure. Had taken other men inside her without protesting. Rights only belonging to Gareth. It had no bearing that she did not have a choice in it. He had seen her. And he was disgusted with her.

Shame rose in her.

Self-hatred.

Self-pity.