T. A. Chase

Angel’s Seduction-Part Thirty-Four

*as promised, we’re having an Angel marathon. I only have a few more scenes to post so I’ll post them over this weekend* Violence (rather graphic)

Angel’s Seduction copyright (c) T.A. Chase

Part Thirty-Four:

“Wake up.”

The order breaks through the blackness clouding my mind. I moan to myself as I roll over and push myself to a sitting position. I force my gaze to meet my father’s. It is difficult since he has often punished me for daring to look him in the eye.

His grin is filled with pride. “I told you I would have you back,” he gloated.

“Yes. It seems that you were right for once.” Surprise ripples through me. Who is speaking? The boy I was would never challenge his father like that. The child knows the consequences of defiance.

He hisses and slaps me. “Don’t talk back, boy. I’m your father and I own you.”

“You don’t own me. You’ve never owned me. All you’ve done is held me captive and abused me because of your own fears and ignorance.” I find I have the strength to climb to my feet.

When I gain my feet, I see a flash of fear shoot through my father’s eyes. It is in that moment, I realize I’m taller than my father. For so long, he has played the roll of the devil in my nightmares. In those nightmares, my father was a monster, invincible and powerful. In the light of day, I see that he is old and small. His power over me lessens even more. He may hold me chained to this room, but he no longer controls my fear.

I stare at my father and I can tell he’s beginning to understand that I’ll no longer cower before him. He’s losing some of his confidence.

“Demon.” A hand grabs my collar and pushes me to my knees.

My first reaction is to tense, but I’ve decided I’ll take whatever punishment they feel fit to give me. They’re the evil ones, not me. They are the ones who take perverse joy in causing pain. Father moves to the other side of the room. The man who forces me to the floor unchains my cuffs from the ring they’re locked in. He tears my shirt so it hangs down around my waist and gathers at my wrists.

A crack breaks the air and my back begins to ache before the first blow lands. I know what is to come. I bow my head and spread my arms out, offering myself up to their hatred. I can endure this. I’ve survived thirteen years. I can take a few more hours or days. I’ve been free. I will be free again.

As the leather bites deep into my flesh for the first time, I swallow my scream. I allow my mind to bring an image of Greyson into my mind. His brilliant blue eyes fill with the love he holds for me. Fire burns over my back as another lash cuts into my skin. By the time I’m free, I’ll have scars on my scars, but I don’t think about that right now. I focus on the feel of Greyson’s arms around me. My back straightens and I lift my head to stare at my father. Just thinking of my lover gives me the courage to accept the whipping.

I know from experience that I will go numb after a while. The body can only take so much pain before the mind shuts down. Warm liquid trickles down my back and soaks into the waistband of my trousers. Another stripe is added to my lower back. This one cuts deep and I can feel it in my spine.

A sob lodges in my throat. I won’t beg. I won’t plead. I will continue to love Greyson with all of my soul and I’ll never deny what my heart says is right. The whipping continues and my mind slowly distances itself from my body.

My father says something to me, but I can’t hear his words. I’m remembering each moment with Greyson in my soul. As each touch and kiss takes away the pain, I realize that I’ve never once spoke of my love for the duke. I never told Greyson how much I love him.

The shock rippling through me has nothing to do with the leather marking my back. It comes from my heart. Why have I never told the duke how much I love him? Why haven’t I uttered anything to let Greyson know that my world ceases to exist without him?

A slap to the face brings my attention back to my father. He screams at me, but again I can’t hear the words. Spittle hits my cheek and I understand that this is why I never said I love you to Greyson. Deep inside me, I never really believed I’d be free of my father. I knew his reach is long and the chains with which I was bound to Father were strong. Maybe by not saying the words, I thought I would keep myself from falling apart when I returned to hell.

Yet here I kneel, bleeding and tortured, but not begging. Not asking forgiveness for a love so perfect that even if the Devil sent it, I’d accept it with open arms. I promise myself as soon as I am free, I’ll tell Greyson about my love.

“Whom do you belong to?” My father slaps me again and I realize the whipping has stopped for the moment.

Friday, September 1st, 2006, by and is filed under "Uncategorized ". You can leave a response here, or send a Trackback from your own site.