Take Me Home

Chapter 1 - Going Out

"Now, hold on, Lance! We can talk about this, right?!"

"I've warned you there would be consequences."

"What have you done?!"

"I'll reduce your debt by half if you hand over your daughter to me."

"Deal."

"I love you, lil brother! I always will!"
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Vixey jolts awake, her eyes flying open as sweat trickled down her forehead. The weak daylight barely penetrated the small window of the room. Placing a hand over her heart, I felt its rapid, pounding rhythm - another haunting nightmare from that dreadful evening. As she slowly closes her eyelids, focused on gaining control of her breathing, taking deliberate deep breaths to calm her racing heart.

As she lies in bed, exhausted and sore, she can't help but mutter, "Can't I get one night of some proper rest..." Vixey's gaze drifts down her body, where dark bruises trace their way up her thighs. With a frustrated growl, she thinks to herself, "He could have been a bit more gentle."

Despite the deep ache in the depths of her being, she summons her resolve and shifts her legs off the edge of the bed. Clutching the sheets tightly, steadying herself for the effort of standing. Her legs yearn to falter, but she persists, pushing through the discomfort.

As she stood up, the bedroom door creaked open, causing her to startle. His overpowering, unpleasant smell hit me instantly, engulfing her in its strong presence. Reminiscing about last night, she couldn't shake off the lingering aroma that had consumed her thoughts as the blade was gently pressed against her neck. A shiver ran down her spine, causing her to instinctively raise a hand to her neck, recalling the sharp silver blade.

Lance approached her with a smirk on his face, his hand sneaking its way behind her back, pulling her closer to him.

"Well, look who's finally awake," he said. "Thought I may have broken you last night."

His hand slowly descends to her hip, gripping it firmly. In an attempt to stifle a sharp intake of breath, she finds herself biting down on her lip. As she avert her eyes from him, he lets out a chuckle. It's not the endearing, affectionate kind of chuckle that makes your cheeks feel warm. The chuckle emanated from a predator who had successfully captured its prey. Unfortunately, for the past five years, she has been the prey of this predator.

As he leans down, she felt the warmth of his breath on her cheek, his voice murmuring in her ear. "Though deep down, I know you're a strong woman. Which only made breaking your spirit all the more fun."

His words hit her like a physical blow, causing her body to convulse involuntarily, shutting her eyes tightly, trying to push back the memories that threaten to overwhelm her. After a few moments, he let go of her and retreated towards the door.

"Don't forget it's poker night for the gang leaders. Wear one of those special outfits I bought, vixen." That nickname always leaves a bitter taste in her mouth. Vixey observed silently, not uttering a single word until his shadow vanishes from the hallway.

With a heavy sigh, she reluctantly walk over to the adjoining bathroom. Slowly glancing at the mirror, she can't help but cringe at the sight that meets her eyes. Quickly shifting her gaze away, tears welling up as she cashed a glimpse of the dark bruises and the small cut on her neck. She gazed at the floor, feeling hesitant as she closed the bathroom door behind her. Not daring to lock it after the unsettling experience last time.

Walking wearily over to the tub, she reached out and turned the faucet slowly, carefully adjusting the temperature to a comforting warmth. As the clear, warm water gently fills the bathtub, she slowly stepped in. A wave of relief washes over her as she immerse herself in the comforting warmth, feeling the tension in her weary body begin to melt away. With a soft sigh, Vixey closes her eyes and savors the peaceful embrace of the tranquil silence that surrounds her. For Vixey, this moment of quiet tranquility is not something to dread, but rather a cherished dream.