[Completed✔] ❝Can you believe you'll be the one to marry me?❞
After escaping the fury of an affair scandal, Bianca and Dallas are on the road to freedom. For the first time in their lives they'll be all alone. The pair runs into even more trouble...
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WARNING: I usually do not add warnings to my chapters, but this one is very needed. Please do not read if you get triggered.
April 20th, 1994. 9:09 P.M.
The contest winner would be posted by tomorrow midday, we rode to the top floor by elevator. I had been hit with exhaustion and could barely keep my eyes open, so I rested my head against Dally's shoulder until the doors slide open. I attempt to walk towards our room, but nearly trip over my own feet, he looks back at me, before coming back and swooping me up into his arms. I was surprised at his strength as he balanced me, while unlocking the door. I could hear the beating pulse of his heartbeat against his chest, it soothed me more into tiredness.
He placed me on the bed, then unzipped the back of my dress and slid it off my shoulders, before tucking me into the covers. As soon as my head hit the pillow I was out like a light. I dozed into a soft snore; Dallas watches me sleeping so peacefully. He leaves the room, and finds himself outside the hotel room, he waits for a moment then knocks. The man opens, "Finally, you're here." He said thankfully. Dallas entered the hotel room biting the inside of his cheek, and with clammy hands, he notes there is more than one man, there is in fact two more. He shamefully closes the door behind himself.
"How do you want to make it?" He mumbled harshly, wanting to get it over with. The man's eyes gestured to the bed, while the other two had wicked looks sprawled across their faces, "On your knees, cowboy." He laced with a sense of control, that Dallas hadn't been used too. He sat on the edge of the bed with legs hanging over, "Pants." The wealthy man said, it occurred to Dally that the man was sadistic and cold, but he had to make money somehow.
Before he could unbuckle his own belt, the man arrives in front of him and starts to roughly remove it himself, before flipping him over on the bed. "Let's get this over with." Dallas heaved with his face squished against the mattress, readying himself for the impact of pain that he's never felt before. During the act the men took turns with him, "He's a tight one, boys." They'd taunt him, ruffle his hair with their hands, "You're so young." they'd say, and Dallas took it all.
He regretted every moment, but needed money, needed cash and needed that coke. He had his eyes shut tightly, trying very hard not to show fear. After an hour, they throw him out of the room, tossing the illegals at him, "I know your type, here's the coke, you scumbag." They insulted, then slam the door in his face. Dallas begins down the hallway, but his legs are like jelly and the world spun with unease, so bad that he felt like he'd been sick at any second.
He whirls against the wall, as utter agony erodes his chest and a vile taste fills his mouth. Tears poured from the corner of his eyes, dripping down his cheeks, wetting the shirt he wore. "God damn it." He begged, slamming a fist on the wall, somehow, he knew that the quality of his life was limited, with drugs pulsing through his veins and on the run from police. He barely managed to get back to the room, when he finally made it, his body was ultimately drained of all life.
