Fallen Daughters

I could still smell the stench of my attacker’s breath as he pressed his weight on top of me. I couldn’t move. I couldn’t breathe. His weight stole all the air from my body. Seven years later, the dark, small confines of a commander’s sleeping unit continued to haunt my nightmares. The feeling of panic, and horror of knowing that the man was not only going to take me sexually, but most likely kill me afterwards. I closed my eyes and recalled Trinity’s rage as she appeared from the shadows, throwing the man off me. Trinity’s strength and fury were terrifying, but I had never felt safer. This mysterious power and strength were saving my life. My sister had saved me. When she reached down and extended her hand for me to take…I knew I would always be safe with Trinity in my life. But what now? Where was Trinity now? Who would help me now?

Snap out of it, Truth!

I had to find composure. I was a trained soldier and could take anything thrown my way. I needed to find strength. Deep breath in. Deep breath out. I could do this. I could do this. Just go to sleep, I chanted internally to myself as I took long, gasping breaths. Crawling up the bed to put my head on the pillow, I closed my eyes and focused on blocking all the negative thoughts that ran unshackled in my mind. I needed sleep. I needed my sister.

Sleep I could have.

22

Sweat coated my body as I woke up in a panic. I had no idea what time it was, what day, and for a few terrifying moments, I had no idea where I was. Hell? I might as well be in eternal damnation. Same difference.

I sat up and noticed that I hadn’t removed my clothes, my shoes, nor turned off the lighting in the room before going to sleep. Not that any of it mattered. I slept and I considered that a good thing. The door to my room remained closed, and I wondered if one of the brothers had come in to check on me. Would they? Or would they only come in if I used the intercom like Cross had instructed? The idea of calling one of them to assist me to the head made me cringe, but my protesting bladder didn’t give me much of a choice. Taking a quick glance around the room, I quickly realized there wasn’t even a bucket to use if I wanted to. I could certainly urinate in the corner somewhere. I had done so in many a cell. But I did have to remain in the close confines of the room for 700 plus hours, and I would much prefer not to have to smell my own waste if I didn’t have to. I needed the twins whether I liked it or not.

Getting out of bed, I stretched the kinks out of my body and walked over to the intercom. Pushing the button, I said, “Excuse me? I would like to use the head, please.”

As much as I didn’t want to, I decided that there really was no reason to be rude, and I was at their mercy. Giving an attitude or demanding they come immediately would not work in my favor, and right now, my bladder screamed for me to behave.

There was silence on the other end.

Pushing the button again, I said, “Hello? I could use some assistance.”

Silence.

Feeling the tightness in my bladder increase, I crossed my legs attempting not to wet myself while waiting.

Just as I was about to push the button again and throw some curse words their way, the door to my room opened. Taking a few steps back to allow Cross enough room to enter, I quickly realized it wasn’t Cross who came to my call for help.

Red. A dark red.

Pike took two large steps into the room and stood before me. He looked exactly like Cross except his lifeblood was not gold but a crimson deeper than any lifeblood I had ever seen. Dark hair, dark eyes, and red. Pike didn’t have to say a single word to make me understand that he was not a man to be messed with. Power, mystery, and dominance pulsated from his body at the same rhythm as my heartbeat. His firm jaw that clenched while he examined me from head to toe pulled my attention away from his hypnotizing glare. Twin brother with Cross, yet this man before me looked completely different in so many ways.

“Why aren’t you chained?” he asked.

“I…uh…Cross said if I was good, I didn’t have to be chained.”

He remained silent, stony, and cold.

Swallowing back the large lump in the back of my throat, I said, “I need to use the head.”

He silently nodded and spun on his heels and walked out the door. Once past the threshold, he looked over his shoulder at where I still stood frozen. “Follow me.” His deep voice was firm, direct and sounded so opposite of the way Cross spoke.