When the sheriff and Mattias leave, I make preparations to do just that. There are no weapons in the house, of course. No guns, but my father taught me to be resourceful. The sheriff used his fingers to take me to climax, but the c***s are coming. I have to be ready.
A vase next to the bed shatters when I push it over. Shards of ceramic cover the floor. It takes a minute for Elias to run in, but in that minute, I have secreted the longest piece away in the bedding.
“What are you doing? Get away from that, you’ll cut yourself,” he chides me, swatting my butt to get me away from the broken bits. I let him shoo me away. I already have what I need.
Elias begins cleaning up, while I sit there on the bed and watch him, wondering why he does this. Why do any of these men allow the sheriff to r
