Story Of My Life (Book Three in the Peterick Mpreg Series)

Pumpin' Blood (Pete's POV)

"You're fucking sick! I hope you know that!" I shouted at the person basically ruining all of our lives at the moment.

"Oh Pete, don't you think I know? I need to preheat the oven of defeat. Oh, you're so slow, but at least tonight will leave you with great woe," the person said.

"And the whole rhyming shit is just fucking creepy," I said.

"Don't mouth of to me, Peter," the person said as they slapped me.

"Fuck you!" I shouted. "Bring me to Patrick!"

"Oh Patrick? I'm afraid that after this, he'll need psychiatric help while he yelps," they said.

"Shut the fuck up and take me to him! I'm not fucking scared of you! Take me to Patrick!" I screamed as I tried untying the rope around my wrists.

"You there!" the person said as they pointed to another unknown person sitting in the corner.

"Yes, master?" they asked as they ran over.

"Take Pete to his lover and show him what he's been missing," the main person said, and I could tell that they were smiling.

I was pulled up by the other person and started marching out of the room. I turned my head and looked at the one who had brought me here.

"Oh, and Peter," they said as they waved the cleaver around. "Don't forget about this. Don't think about trying to escape. If you do, this won't be a little jape. On no, it will be much more, more than you can ignore."

I swallowed hard and then turned my head back and began marching again. As we came to a different room minutes later, I started to hear screams, but it wasn't just from one person. Oh, no, not at all. It was at least seven people from what I could tell. As we walked through the room, I could se who it was. Everyone of the guys- including Emily- were strapped to chairs, blindfolded, and hooked up to some kind of machine. It looked like it was taking their blood or something.

"Guys!" I shouted.

"Shut up!" the person said as they punched me in the stomach, making me cough and fall to my knees. "You don't fucking talk unless I tell you you can."

I didn't say anything else. I was honestly afraid of getting hit or punched again... I can handle pain, but not like this. Not like this at all.

We continued walking through the room and eventually left it. As we walked out, I glanced back at Emily. She was screaming in so much pain and I couldn't do anything about it. It killed me and actually made me cry a little.

"Don't cry, you little bitch," the person said. "Remember, 'don't worry, don't fret, they'll deserve what they'll get'," the person said.

"How do they deserve that?!" I asked. "What have they every done to you?!"

"Oh, not me," they said. "My master."

"What the hell did they do to them?!" I asked.

"Not they, my dear Peter, he," they said.

"Which he?!" I asked.

"Dallon," they replied.

"So just because Dallon did something, you're punishing all of us?" I asked.

"Well, of course," they answered with a chuckle. "Now quit your bitching, you little whore. We've arrived at the door."

"Not you too," I groaned.

"Shut up!" they said as they smacked me across my face.

I winced in pain, but tried to ignore it as the person opened a big, heavy door. It was dark inside the room, so I couldn't see a thing. The person flicked on a switch and a bright light shone down upon someone strapped to a chair, blindfolded and not moving.

"What did you do to him?!" I screamed as I ran over to Patrick.

"T'wasn't my fault," they said.

"Why isn't he moving?!" I screamed.

"Here, allow me," they said as they walked over.

Once they got to Patrick and I, they leaned over Patrick and smacked him hard across the face, just like they had done to me.

"Don't you fucking touch him like that again!" I shouted as I stood up and whipped my leg around, nailing the person right in the side, making them fall.

Before the person got up, I noticed a knife sitting on the table next to Patrick. I held it behind me with one of my hands while I moved the other against it, trying to cut the rope off.

"Fuck!" I shouted as I felt the knife cut deep into my skin.

I worked through the pain and eventually was able to cut the rope off. After that, I took the knife again and walked over to the person that was still on the ground, holding their side and coughing.

"I don't think I'll be meeting my maker any time soon. Now, my taker, be prepared to meet your maker!" I screamed as I drove the knife into the persons' chest.

After stabbing the person a few more times, and after making sure they were dead and gone, I quickly ran over to Patrick, who was groaning in pain.

"Baby! Oh my god! What did they do to you?!" I asked him as I looked over him.

"I-I don't remember much, b-but I remember them hitting me an-and r-raping me," he said.

"They what?!" I asked.

"T-That's what they were doing when I was screaming for you into the microphone t-thing," Patrick said. "I-I tried to stop them, b-but I was too weak."

"Oh my god, baby. We have to get you out of here and go save the others," I said as I went and grabbed the knife and cut the rope off of Patrick, helping him up.

"Fuck!" Patrick screamed as he instantly fell after I helped him up. "P-Pete, I can't walk."

"I'm surprised I am. I think I broke my ankle, but I'm fighting through the pain, even though it's next to impossible to walk on a broken ankle," I said.

"Pete, just leave me here and go save everyone else," he said as he grabbed his leg,

"No!" I said. "We go together or we don't go down at all!"

I pulled Patrick up and threw him over my shoulder, wincing at the pain shooting through my ankle and leg, but I fought through it. I fought through it for Patrick.