Justice Mine: a Base Branch Novel Read Free Page B

be able to do. Still, she was only a pie piece past five feet and a pie past one-hundred pounds. How exactly was she going to help?
    And leave it to Magdalena's brain to loop again. But…the lady next to her on the plane had a novel with a silver key chain on the front. It had stirred a memory on the forever-long flight. Magdalena placed the book by a conversation she and Willow had at the beginning of her time in Africa. Will had said that bondage novels were all the rage in America and making a splash back home.
    Maybe she’s into BSDM. No, what the hell was it. Bondage. Dominance. Submission? Sado-something? BDSM. Maybe that’s why she wanted me out of the flat.
    Not that Magdalena would ever label Will a freak, not about any sexual proclivity. Except the peeing thing. Golden showers. I’d for sure freak-label that one. Gross. The tension seeped from her stiff muscles and her shoulders wilted. Suddenly her bed seemed like the best place in the world. The only place she wanted to be, regardless of the damn streetlight or kinky bang going on next door. It’d been more than twenty-four hours since she’d garnered any decent sleep.
    Taking even one step seemed impossible. If she gave over to gravity, the majority of her body would make it onto the bed. She slid the tote from the crook of her arm, welcoming the tingle of circulation to her fingers, and settled it and her shoes next to an old pile of fashion magazines. Mags had just given herself permission to dive for the bed when a bitchy male voice screeched its way into her ears.
    “You daft bitch. I get it all. Didn’t he tell you that? I get your cunt and your mouth. I’ll even take your ass, if I fancy.”
    The blows that followed left Magdalena’s hands shaking. Fear and anger churned inside her veins. The world slowed, as did the viscous blood pumping through her body. She wobbled to the closet and gripped the white doorframe for anchor. Her forehead dropped to the backs of her hands while she inhaled past the nausea.
    “Open your damn mouth or I’ll go and tell them you wouldn’t cooperate.”
    There was a possibility Willow was exploring her sexuality. Lord knew Magdalena had done more than her fair share. But this was nothing like she’d ever experienced. It didn't sound safe. Sane. And how in the hell could Willow consent to the degradation of his mouth and the beating of his…fist?
    Fetish or not, this shit had gone too far. Willow’s appearance earlier in the day told Mags all she needed to know. The relationship wasn't healthy. She pulled the closet open then dove into the recesses of garment bags, scattered shoes, and old textbooks. When her hand hit a slab of wood she fumbled up its length until she found the dowel-shaped top and wrenched it from the far corner. Thank God her dad had made her learn cricket. She’d scoffed as a young girl playing with all his grey-haired friends, but no more. Her fist gripped the bat like it were a billion pounds and Magdalena stalked toward Willow’s room like she had big fat balls.
    Unprepared. Magdalena was completely unprepared for the scene before her. She longed to shrink into a ball, cover her eyes, and wish the image away. Willow knelt on the floor beside her bed. No rigidity held her posture. Her naked body caved in on itself, shoulders hunched in retreat. All of her beautiful curves had vanished into the pit of hell she found herself wading through. The blood smearing her precious face took a back seat to the horror Willow’s expression unleashed deep in Magdalena’s soul. Vacant eyes stared blankly at the man before her, unseeing. Resignation weighted her usual smile into a wretched frown.
    “That’s right,” the man said as he shoved two fingers into her mouth. “Suck em’ like you will my cock.” Her lips sealed stiffly around the chav’s bony index and middle fingers as he pumped them in and out while his other skeletal hand wound tighter into her bronze hair. Willow gagged and the man