So I was the monster who deserved every bit of it?
Dragged into the mountains and beaten. Struck with a stun baton by my captors. Was that somehow my own fault?
I closed my eyes and felt my heart constricting.
Tears hit the floor one by one.
A year ago, I'd slipped and fallen into a lake. I sank into a deep coma.
By the time I woke, two months had passed.
The day I opened my eyes, all three of my brothers were at my bedside, their faces tight with urgency, worry and fear spilling from their eyes.
"Hey," I murmured, unable to help the plaintive whine in my voice. "What day is it?"
"My head hurts so much."
But the concern I expected, the tenderness, never came.
What came instead were expressions that froze solid, and three bodies stepping back in unison, as though I were something monstrous.
"Cole? Finn? Malcolm?" Worry crept into my voice. "What's wrong with you?"
The three of them exchanged a glance, then forced their composure back into place.
"Nothing. Get some rest. We'll come see you tomorrow."
I nodded.
It stung, but I didn't think much of it. After all, only I knew how much I meant to them.
I knew they'd give their lives for me.
When I'd been sick as a child, Cole had drained half the blood from his body to save mine.
And after Mom and Dad died, Finn and Malcolm had treated me like the most precious thing in the world.
But not long after I was discharged, the "accidents" began.
The first time, I was dragged into the mountains.
I was thrown into a cellar like a piece of garbage. A man named Laurence Lawrence clamped handcuffs around my wrists and shackles around my ankles.
"Behave!" He slapped me hard across the face once the locks clicked shut. "From now on, you're staying here to breed for me!"
I'd been sheltered my whole life, protected by my three older brothers since the day I was born.
Nothing could have prepared me for this. I screamed until my throat tore, begging him to stop.
But that man was no human. He was a monster.
He ripped my clothes off and brutalized me through the night. Over and over and over again.
A month later.
When I found out I was carrying his child, the shock and the crushing weight of it all shattered something inside me. I collapsed.
When I woke, another two months had passed.
I found myself in a hospital bed. My brothers had rescued me.
After I came to, they acted no different than before. Still loving. Still caring.