𝙿𝚛𝚘𝚝𝚎𝚌𝚝𝚘𝚛

𝐷𝑎𝑢𝑔ℎ𝑡𝑒𝑟

𝑂𝑚𝑛𝑖𝑠𝑐𝑖𝑒𝑛𝑡

Her slightly conscious body was thrown down onto a cushioned surface in an undignified heap. She landed on the soft surface with a grunt, before stubbornly trying to get up again. She was no quitter.

"Oh dear... tryna leave so soon? But we haven't even gotten to have fun with you yet!" A gruff, sing-songy voice chuckled darkly, and something about the sound made Onika bristle from head-to-toe with dread. A hand pressed firmly into her collarbone, pushing her down into the rugged mattress and keeping her pinned so she couldn't give another attempt at rising.

Onika, with all the consciousness she had in that moment, hated everything about it. She felt weak in their presence, without her gun, without Beyoncé. A pathetic, helpless piece of cheap entertainment. Totally defenseless. Completely at the mercy of the men surrounding her. It was more than humiliating. So degrading.

Onika writhed weakly with a low growl, still giving her best effort at fighting back, but even that small movement quickly sapped her strength, and she ended up breathing heavily, panting hard from even that light exertion.

"Don't worry, we won't kill ya," another unfamiliar voice said. "August made it very clear he wanted you alive." That wasn't really reassuring. Onika almost thought that living would be worse than death at this point. Everything hurt, whatever she had been through had set every nerve on fire.

"I'll... k-kill... you.. all.." She wheezed through gritted teeth, not aimed at anyone in particular. The cowboys all laughed hysterically as though she had just made a hilarious joke.

Onika opened her mouth again to throw some choice words and vile insults, not that it would get her anywhere, when something was poured into it, making her gag in surprise. It burned fiercely in her throat as she sputtered and choked on alcohol, curling in on herself and coughing violently to rid herself of the foul drink while more laughter erupted around her.

The jet squeezed her eyes shut, trying to ward off the dizzying nausea overtaking her. Her head felt light and fuzzy, and it was like she was drowning in air.

She felt hands grab her, pull her into someone's lap, and when she opened her eyes again she could make out the fuzzy outline of a man's face staring down at her.

Without thinking twice, Onika mustered all her remaining strength into one movement, swinging a weak fist at the face that was easily caught in a strong hand that overpowered her.

"Fiesty one, aren't you?" The man chuckled. "I like that." The man landed a blow onto her jaw in retaliation, not too hard, but just hard enough to leave a bruise.

Onika was finally realizing just how pointless resistance was. She felt so incredibly vulnerable, so exposed with all the unfamiliar figures surrounding her. She was the center of attention.

She wanted to leap up, fight, anything but lie there limp and helpless like a corpse.

But there was no escape. She was trapped.