Authors: Whitney Cannavina
By Whitney Cannavina
Copyright of Whitney Cannavina
*This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead is coincidental.
* This book also depicts some scenes of a sexual nature and other adult content and is recommended for those who are 18+.
Thank you for reading Break Me (The Taken Series book 2). If you would like to ask questions about the story or find out more information on future books you can find me on Facebook, Twitter and Instagram or by email. Thank you again for taking the time to read about these diverse characters.
*This is not a standalone and in order to understand some of the events that happen I strongly suggest reading Save Me first.
Facebook: Whitney Cannavina or my author page Author Whitney Cannavina
Such a simple yet life changing term. Its meaning is, taking away by force or the illegal carrying away of a person. I never thought I would be abducted. It just wasn’t something I thought could happen to me. I was in my own little bubble of safety with a few close friends, loving parents and an overbearing, overprotective brother and his best friend who always seem to have an eye on me. In just a moment my life went from a future of many possibilities to the daily rape, beatings, and possibility of being sold.
If someone told me six months ago that I would be abducted by my teacher, raped on a daily basis and beaten I would have said no way. There was no possible way that would ever happen to me; but it did. I have been under the watchful eye of Jeremy, a PE teacher and coach at my old high school, since the day of my 18
birthday. I have been in hell every day since and there has been no way of escape. Scratch that. There was a way of escape and I did.
Forrest. He was the love of my life and my brother’s best friend. Forrest rescued me when he pulled me out of some house I was holed up in that had been used as some sort of whore house. Possibly even to hold girls who are to be sold in the sex trafficking industry. At least that’s what I understood from the little I’ve heard the men whisper about as they walk the halls of the house I’m in now. I have heard rumors of the house I was rescued from, being a whorehouse, which men go there and pay for sex without having to pick up a girl on the streets. It’s private and no evidence is left of who comes and goes. What do they call places like that? Brothels? Yes I guess that would be it, a brothel.
When Forrest rescued me from that place, I knew it was too good to be true. Jeremy was obsessed with me. He wasn’t just going to sit idle while I was taken away from him. When he had me locked up in the warehouse in the very beginning he told me many times how much he loved me, how he would constantly watch me when I was walking the campus at my high school with my friends, and how he wanted to fuck me every time he laid his eyes on me. There was no way he was just going to give up and let Forrest keep me. It didn’t help that I knew who he was either. It would have been so simple for me to tell the police who it was that abducted me. That would have ruined his sex trading business, his teaching career and his plans for me. Then again, seeing as his uncle was the chief of police I doubt telling them who took me would have gotten me very far. It took me some time to figure out that the man Forrest said he worked undercover for was Jeremy’s uncle, also known as ‘The Boss’, and was the mole in the undercover operation to catch sex traffickers.
From what Forrest was telling me, he was brought in to work undercover for the police so they can catch the leaders in the sex trafficking ring among other illegal dealings that were happening at the underground fight club Forrest ran. Because Forrest fought and won all his fights, people from all over would come to watch and make bets while doing illegal business such as dealing drugs and women. The police detectives needed him to help them find the men who were kidnapping and selling girls and made a deal with him. He wouldn’t be arrested and charged for having an illegal fight club as long as he helped them. He agreed and has been helping them ever since.
Forrest told me that even though he was helping them, every time he gave them the info on where the head guy they were looking for was supposed to be, someone would warn ‘The Boss’ and they could never catch him. There was a mole and nobody could figure out who it was.
When Forrest rescued me and brought me to the safe house, the mole, or as I now know, the chief of police showed up and all hell broke loose. Forrest was murdered and Jeremy carted me off to never be seen again. I’ve been here for over six months now and there is no escape in sight.
I have been raped and beaten since the moment I was brought to this place. There is no escape for me. Nobody to save me now that Forrest is dead. He was the only one who could have found me and rescued me had he not been murdered by Jeremy and his uncle; the man who Forrest was supposed to be able to trust and the teacher who I should not have had to worry about ever hurting me. It just boggles my mind that this is my life now.
Some days I wake up forgetting where I am. Those days are the hardest. You wouldn’t think so having that reprieve if only just for a moment, thinking you’re safe but in all reality those days are the hardest days to get through. Not the days that I’m raped or the days that I am beaten black and blue. Those days are nowhere near as bad as the days I wake up imagining I’m at home safe and sound with my family close by only to lose them once again when I remember I am not at home in my bed but I am in fact imprisoned here until Jeremy decides my fate. Will he keep me, sell me, or kill me?
With every day that passes I become closer to losing myself completely. I’ve fought to keep myself from breaking but I don’t know if I can stop the inevitable. The cracks in my armor are getting bigger and bigger. Slowly Jeremy is chipping away at my confidence, my strength and my mind. He’s burrowing himself into my soul making me believe he needs me and I need him. I’ve come to depend on him for everything. My clothes, my food, my well-being. Without meaning to I’ve even started to appreciate him. After all he’s done to all those girls, to my family, to me and to Forrest, I don’t understand how I could feel this way for him? Is this what victims of other captors feel like? Isn’t there a name for it?
Stockholm syndrome. Maybe that’s what I have. Or maybe that’s what I am developing. I don’t know but what I do know is the situation I am in is not the norm and I can’t be accounted for the feelings and thoughts I’ve had since being abducted. I’ve gone from trying to escape, to suicide, attempted murder, to escape again. All of my ideas have been thwarted though. My plans of escape have been unsuccessful. From the times at the warehouse, when Forrest rescued me, and to the few times I’ve made an attempt to run have gotten me nothing but a fierce beating where I lay in bed half alive praying for death to take me.
The two times I have tried to kill myself Jeremy brought me back. My first attempt by cutting myself almost worked had Jeremy not had a doctor on call. My second attempt was drowning. It’s a harsh way to go but I was doing what had to be done. I filled up the bath and told Jeremy I was going to soak in the tub due to my sore muscles. He had just had a party the night before where I was on my hands and knees while he rested his feet on my back for hours. My whole body ached being in that position for so long but it was better than him passing me off to whoever wanted me and getting gang raped again as punishment for not doing as I was told. Jeremy thought nothing of it as I filled the tub with steaming water. I closed and locked the door before slipping into the warm bath water. I was scared of the pain I would endure with drowning but I believed that it would be better than a lifetime in this place with Jeremy.
I slink my head beneath the water and stare at the ceiling from under it before inhaling causing me to choke and cough. The more I coughed the more water flowed into my lungs. The burning was painful and it took everything I had to go against my instincts and sit up out of the water to gain air. My vision blurred and started to darken before everything went black. This time though I didn’t go into an alternate reality. There was no feeling of floating, no images of Forrest and mine life together before the abduction. It was just black nothingness. It was almost as if someone just pulled a dark veil over my eyes where time had no meaning.
Jeremy had busted the door down when he realized I had locked it. I wasn’t allowed to lock any of the doors in case he wanted to come in and get his fill of me. Let’s just say that after he gave me CPR and had the doctor take care of me I got the worst punishment I’ve ever received and that includes the gang rape with his two friends and the physical abortion he did on me combined.
A week after I was discovered trying to drown myself he tied me down to the pool table again and shot me up with some sort of drug. It didn’t take long for it to kick in as I felt as if there were bugs crawling and biting me under my skin. I wanted to rip my skin from my limbs to make it stop. I didn’t scream knowing it would do me no good but I knew this was just the beginning. There was more to come. I tried pulling on my restraints but it was of no use either. Instead I tried to ride it out. My mind started to fog and I couldn’t think. I tried to stay alert but it was harder as more time went by and the more the drugs flowed through my veins.
That night I was raped repeatedly for hours by men but in my drug induced haze they had looked like monsters. A wolf, a snake, a rat, and many other beasts smacked me, cut me, and fucked me in every way conceivable to where I was sore, bruised, and bleeding from my nose, mouth, pussy and ass. I had rope burns that were bleeding on my wrists and ankles from me trying to get away, bite marks all over me that were deep enough to cut skin, and cuts from them using their knives on me marking how many times I was fucked that night. Let’s just say I look more like a zebra with all my scars from their tally marks.
But that’s not the worst part. Not even close. The worst part was that afterwards, even in the state I was in I had to watch a girl about the age of thirteen get used the same way as me.
She was a fucking child. At thirteen I was playing with dolls or playing dress up and had no clue about sex or that there were even such evils in this world. Sure I knew there were children who were beaten by their parents but that was the extent of the evil I knew about. This girl was thirteen and she was going through the most horrific brutality known to a woman. She’s not even fully developed. Did she even start her period?
Watching her get raped and beaten like I was, was the worst part of the whole night. He did this on purpose. He did this to show me that not only will I be punished but so will some unsuspecting child. It will be my fault that such a young girl gets brutalized. I learned my lesson. No longer will I try to commit suicide and no longer will I try to escape. I am his until he decides he no longer wants me. As long as I do what he says then there will be no more scenes like that night; at least not in front of me and not because of me. He is still a monster and I know that he still does these things when I’m not around and there will be no stopping him, but at least it won’t be because of me. I won’t be the reason for another girl going through that.