Russian Roulette: Family secrets [2021 version]

Ch. 53: Princess, princess, princess

Cold.

So fantastically cold.

Not only her body, but her insides froze.

Mackenzie shivered, and her teeth chattered around the gag as she bounced in the trunk of whatever car Iri had stuffed her in.

She had been barefoot, in pajama pants and a t-shirt, when they took her down the stairs from the floor of her room at the hotel. They had threatened her to stay quiet and cooperate, or they would kill whoever came to her aid.

It had been a much better pressure point than threatening her life. Death she would welcome because it would save her from whatever punishment she had coming. The card in the box had said it all. If King would explode over her close relationship with Gareth, or her lack of information to stop Gareth from signing with Niehauser, was no concern of hers.

Mackenzie expected pain either way.

The fact that they had not drugged her like all the other times sent her head spinning. That probably meant the punishment would begin the moment she got wherever they were headed.

Though she tried to push through her fear and the cold, she could not concentrate. Listening to the car and the music in it stopped her from listening for trains, other cars, or city life to figure out where they went.

In the end, she gave up. It would do her no good.

Hopefully, the guys would try to find her when Alyssa informed them of what had happened. Not that it would help her in time, she just hoped King would release her one day.

If she had anything to come back to, that was the question.

Maybe, just maybe, she would see her friends again. And hopefully, they would have found Gareth. That was the one thing she dreamed of. She held no hopes for herself, but Mackenzie wished for him to be rescued and have a good life. For him to lead his men once again and prosper into an even more remarkable man than the one she loved.

Mackenzie wished Gareth would live on without her.

Those thoughts gave her a sense of peace while she waited for them to reach their destination.

It felt like hours before the car stopped, but when Iri's grim face came into view from the open trunk, she wished for more hours in the car.

Days if possible.

The way he smiled at her before he tied a cloth around her head to blindfold her, sickened her. It was like he already knew what would happen, and he looked forward to it. Usually, King let Iri have a go at her sexually. The last time was the first time he had been allowed to whip her. That he had done to his heart's content. Normally, King preferred to do it himself, something about her feeling him long after.

It had been true.

The way her skin burned while the swelled-up welts went down. That weird numbness and burning warmth like from an elastic band snapped against the skin, only constantly feeling it. How the skin had itched where he had broken it. Wounds she had wanted to scratch at but refrained from to avoid scars.

These feelings had lingered long after the physical soreness from the sexual abuse had dissipated. The body knew how to have sex, and it was made for it. Granted, not that violently, but it adapted to the intrusions. The skin, however, was not made for the conditions harsh whippings put it through.

Probably what Iri looked forward to.

He had gotten a taste for it the last time. That he wanted more was a given.