He unlocked my legs and flipped me on my back. When my back made contact with the bed, it burned and the wetness seeped into the sheets, making me wonder how badly I was bleeding. Maybe it would be better if I just bled out on this bed after all. I slowly got up to leave. I didn’t have any fight in me. If I wasn’t completely broken before, I was now. He picked up the box of condoms thrown on the bed and took another condom out. How many victims has this guy had? I can’t imagine anyone enjoying this.

“Where do you think you’re going?” he asked with his brows furrowed. “I’m not done with you. You can’t be a cock tease in here, look how hard I still am for you,” he said pointing to his man parts. The thought of having sex with him caused me to dry heave and he threw his head back laughing. He took me by the wrist and I knew I had to let him do this. I had no strength to fight him, and he was clearly not going to let me go. He pushed me against the bed and threw me down so I was flat on my back. My back and ass were throbbing, and I was scared he might have ripped me open. I winced from the pain and his eyes turned to dark pools of lust. His rough rhythm was torture. He reached over for the lube again and pulled out of me as he spread it over his cock. Then he slid back inside me, I closed my eyes, willing my mind to take me to a different place and time. As he rolled his hips, his finger dipped between my legs rubbing my clit. It was borderline painful. He lifted both my legs over his shoulders and the real pounding began. His smooth features and cute dimples from earlier were lost and before me was a man that looked stark and dangerous, a man that gets off on causing pain. He pulled my hair into his fist and yanked hard, causing my chin to lift backward. He smacked into me hard, again and again and then he came, and I prayed that this was finally over. My earlier tears drying along my cheeks, my mind and body were numb. He climbed off of me, and the smile he had earlier returned, leaving the serious brute from moments ago behind.

“That was good.” He smiled and his skin glistened from his exertion. I didn’t respond.

“Can we meet again?” he asked, showing off those deceiving dimples.

I couldn’t answer him because I was scared of him and I was scared of myself. What the fuck was that? What’s wrong with me? I’d seriously lost myself. I quickly rushed over to my clothes and frantically got my bra on. It hurt to close it over my wounds, but I needed to get out of there fast. My heart rate was borderline berserk and my breathing was so labored that I thought I would pass out, but I couldn’t let that happen with this sick fuck to take care of me. I slipped on my skirt and fell over with my damned heels on. I needed to get home. I had responsibilities there.

“Do you want a warm cloth?” he asked, pointing his chin to my back. Are you for fucking real, buddy? He beats me raw then wants to take care of the wounds he caused?

“No thanks,” I muttered, grabbing my jacket and purse.

“You’re leaving?” His tone was one of surprise, leaving me flabbergasted.

“Yes.” I turned my head, looking toward the door and dashed out of the room, down the long narrow hallway that we entered from. The main area of the condo was huge, but I saw the door and made a straight line for it.

“Can I get your number?” he asked, walking after me briskly. From the corner of my eye I noticed the cute grin from earlier plastered back on his cruel face.

“No.” I opened the door and walked out. Fuck, it was good to be out of there. With trembling fingers I pressed the button for the elevator, hoping he didn’t follow me. He followed me out of his apartment wearing the dark slacks from earlier sitting low on his trim waist.

“Wait, was that not okay?” He took my wrist and asked with a confused tone. His thick dark brows bunched together. I couldn’t even answer him, the walls were closing in on me, and I needed to get out. The elevator door dinged and opened. I pulled my wrist out of his grip and walked into the elevator. When it arrived on the main floor I exhaled. I wanted to fall down and cry, but I wouldn’t allow it. This short burst of weakness had to be buried. I called Nessa. She didn’t pick up. I’m not surprised. She was probably tangled up with more than one man. I walked out of the condominium, thankful to be in a public place. I didn’t know this city very well, so I flagged a cab.

“Where to, Miss?” The middle-aged cabbie asked, looking back at me smiling. I decided right then that I hated smiling people. How can they smile at this shitty life? Maybe their life was good and that’s why they smile. I hadn’t smiled in six months and I doubted I ever would again. Fate had dealt me a shitty hand.

“To the nearest hospital,” I replied and my voice was almost a whisper. The truth was that it hurt to breathe. My dammed back was stinging, and I felt like I could barely walk because my ass felt like it had been torn apart. I wouldn’t have cared if I died right now, but I was needed at home, so I had to get my shit together and fast.

***

I walked out of the hospital with stitches in my back and in my rectum. The asshole actually tore me inside. The pain was excruciating and the thought of stitches where his cock should have never gone was traumatizing. Luckily, the nurse gave me enough painkillers to last me the ride home. I felt woozy and not completely with it. When the doctor asked me if I was raped and if I would like to talk to a counselor or even worse, the cops. I wanted neither of those things. I felt like a worn out rag. Used too many times and thrown away. Did the man with no name rape me? The thought scared the living hell out of me. Remembering his dark eyes sent a roll of pain over my body and caused goose bumps to erupt along my bony arms. I thought it was losing my family that would break me, but I was broken and they weren’t even gone yet.

I repeatedly remembered asking him to stop and he wouldn’t. I don’t know much about the BDSM lifestyle, but I assumed it was supposed to be consensual. I realized I didn’t protest at first, but when I begged him to stop and he wouldn’t, he morphed from handsome man into monster. He was a sick fuck and now I was drowning in a pool of darkness that is so much deeper than the one I had been swimming in. I pulled out my phone again to call Nessa. On the third ring she finally picked up.

“Nessa,” my voice sounded slow and sleepy.

“Vick, where did you run off to?”

“I went home with the hot guy in the Calvin Klein briefs,” I muttered, realizing that I described half the males at the party. Then my voice cracked and hot tears rolled down my face. The air was cold and I watched as my breath made a smoky circle in front of my mouth. The world felt black. I felt broken. I had lost myself. My life didn’t feel real anymore.

“Are you okay?” Nessa asked after I had been silent for more than an acceptable amount of time.

“No.” I managed to grit out but it was hard to speak and it was even harder to admit. I’m not okay.

“Where are you, Vick? I’m coming. Please tell me where you are. Shit,” she breathed out nervously.

“I’m in front of Toronto General Hospital,” I answered because despite the fact that I was choking on my words, I needed her to come. I needed her to help me get home. I felt lost and broken, two emotions I was not allowed to feel right then.

“Shit, Vicky, something bad happened didn’t it?” she asked frantically. “Dammit, I shouldn’t have let you leave the party, we should have stuck together,” she chided herself.

I didn’t respond because she was right, it was a big mistake to go home with a stranger. Looking back on it, I was trying to figure out what I was thinking. Was the risk involved worth the excitement? Did I really need a personal connection that badly? If I did, why did I think I could get it with a stranger?