Saving Grace

[Note: This story contains violence, minor depictions of blood and injury, and brief non-consensual touching/assault. Please read with caution.]

**

The room is unfamiliar. I don’t know how I got here.

She thinks as her Jade eyes attempt to adjust to the darkness of the room, a groan of pain tumbling from her lips when an aching throb encompasses her skull, and the young woman grunts in confusion.

Sabrina’s memories are foggy as she strains to think back on the events that may have brought her to this place, but the agony that is inflicted on her serves to be too much when the woman puts effort into thinking. Out of pure instinct, Sabrina lifts her right hand up to her head in hopes of kneading at her temple to ease the discomfort, but as she does so, the young woman gasps in shock when her movements are halted.

A chain-linked cuff is secured around Sabrina’s wrist, the discovery prompting both fear and uncertainty to take root in her gut, and the brunette swiftly tosses the thin sheet—that she was tangled in—off of her body to inspect where the chain leads.

Secured to a metal plate on the concrete floor only a few inches from the bed frame, the chain seems to be a mere three and a half feet long to ensure she cannot go far, and Sabrina could tell that whoever captured her was prepared, considering she does not remember why she is here in the first place.

As the woman sits on the bed and stares at the chain—out of pure curiosity—she gives an experimental yank on her restraint. The metal jangles loudly in reaction to Sabrina’s actions, echoing throughout the dimly lit, dank room, and Sabrina wonders who would go to such great lengths to keep her captive.

Anxiety slowly festers in her stomach as the brunette does her best to think back once more on how she ended up in this predicament, but all her mind lingers on is the fact that God had allowed this to happen to her, and resentment begins to rule over her emotions.

She has always been cautious.

Has always made sure she stayed on the straight and narrow path in order to protect herself from the dangers of this world.

But it seems that her efforts were in vain.

Why was God punishing her?

As Sabrina dwells on those thoughts, the horrible, grating noise of rusted metal grinding together interrupts the woman’s silent meltdown, and light floods into the room, blinding her for a few moments.

“Oh, good. You’re awake.”

A raspy, deep voice says, his vocals familiar to her ears, and when Sabrina’s eyes finally adapt to the harsh light bleeding in through the open door, a sharp inhale of horror escapes her lips. The figure before her causes Sabrina to immediately scramble back on the creaky, old bed, her heart racing when his menacing expression comes into view, and the woman stares up at him with unease.

“You’re the man from the gala. Travis Marcel.”

Sabrina mutters in revelation, the dread she had felt from that night now building in her chest and constricting her throat, and the man chortles devilishly, smirking down at her in amusement with his arms crossed.

“Ah, so you do remember me? That means you should know why I brought you here, Angel.”

The nickname rolls off of Travis’s tongue in a purr, but it sounds gross to the woman due to the endearment not being from Keiran, and Sabrina shudders in disgust.

“Don’t call me that.”

“Oh? But Keiran Armstrong loves calling you that, Angel. Is that because he got to you before I could?”

Travis questions as if trying to put on a sensual tone to his voice, but all it does is creep the brunette out, and Sabrina jolts when the man extends a hand towards her and touches her knee gently.

“He didn’t “get to me,” Mister Marcel. It is just a nickname. Now, please, don’t touch me.”

Sabrina snaps, the anger and terror that bubbles within her gradually takes over, and Travis barks a laugh as his free hand finds its way to her chin, gripping her face roughly between his fingers.

“Nickname or not, Keiran is fond of you. This means that it will be extremely easy to ruin him and drag him further into that dark abyss of evil he struggles to stay out of. He won’t have his Angel to protect him and keep him from crossing that line.”

Travis sneers, grinning sadistically at the sight of Sabrina’s Jade green eyes widening in shock, the soft hiss of pain she lets out fueling the man’s desire to hurt his enemy, and with one simple thought on his mind, he begins to slide his hand from Sabrina’s knee and up her thigh.

“Stop! Get your hands off of me! Please, don’t do this!”

Sabrina shouts pleadingly, a sickening feeling rising from beneath her skin, while the burning sensation of bile burbles up her esophagus and the brunette sobs when her assaulter unexpectedly shoves her backward onto the pitiful mattress under them.

“But you are so pretty, Sweetheart. I can’t help it.”

The man snarls in her ear, the hand on her chin finding its way around her throat, while his other hand—that is on her thigh—still moves dangerously close to the most intimate area on Sabrina’s body, and she chokes on a scream as tears collect in her lashes.

“Such pretty cries. I will take great pleasure in tainting y—”

Before Travis can finish, Sabrina feels his weight abruptly leave from above her, then a bellowing cry reverberates around the room, and the woman sits up while heaving in gulps of breaths after her airways had been cut off.

When she regains her bearings, Sabrina’s eyes land on the familiar broad shoulders of the man she has desperately fallen in love with, and she is taken aback by what she sees.

Keiran has the other man by the front of his shirt, yelling in Travis’s face as he delivers a fist to her captor’s stomach, but Travis merely doubles over before flicking his gaze up, and he glares at the towering man. Travis is then barreling towards Keiran, their bodies colliding as the shorter man attempts to catch Keiran off guard, but the dark-haired man simply grunts before landing his knuckles right into his enemy’s jaw, knocking Travis to the concrete floor.

Keiran wastes no time pouncing on the other man, punching Travis in the face a couple more times, as his vision goes red after having witnessed Travis touching Sabrina without consent.

“You filthy, no-good, piece of shit! Don’t. You. Ever. Touch. My. Girl. Ever again!”

With each word, Keiran punctuates them by bloodying the other man’s face, and, despite being grateful for Keiran rescuing her, Sabrina cannot bear the sight of him hurting someone else for her.

“Keiran! Keiran, stop, please!”

Sabrina begs, her soft, terrified request instantly capturing the man’s attention, and the raven-haired man swiftly abandons his thirst for blood and justice and makes his way toward her instead.

Extending his hands cautiously, Keiran cradles the woman’s jaw tenderly, knuckles split open from his actions while Travis’s blood stains his skin, but the tall, imposing man is gentle with Sabrina, and she instinctively leans into his touch and reaches her uncuffed hand up to stroke his stubbled cheek.

“You found me, Keiran.”

“Of course. I will always find you, Angel.”