I fought because I couldn’t do anything else. I had to stop the inevitable, even if it killed me.
The men grunted, fingers digging harder into my body while Leather Jacket slapped me around the head. He laughed. “You haven’t changed a bit. I must say, I didn’t expect to see you again, but it proves wishes do come true.”
His black eyes glinted as he grabbed my upper arm. “You might as well give up, slut. I’ve been given orders to break you. Hurt you. Fuck you. Ruin you. Degrade you to the point where you’re nothing but a confused sack of shit who wishes daily for death, and then we’ll sell you.”
My throat clogged; I wanted to cut my ears off. I didn’t want to listen. I didn’t want to believe. I also hated myself because I saw the truth. Everything Leather Jacket promised would come true. And there was nothing I could do to stop it.
He licked his lips, pulling another syringe from his pocket. “Turns out your f**king master has enemies in high places. What did he do, puta? Who did he piss off, the stupid cunt?”
“Je suis à toi, Tess.” Q’s voice whispered in my head. I latched onto it, giving me courage to face whatever was coming.
Q would come for me.
Q is coming for me.
One of the thugs jerked my arm up, imprisoning me.
“Stop! You don’t have to drug me.”
Leather Jacket pressed his lips against my ear. “Oh, but we do. That’s the fun of it.” He pulled back and tapped a vein, then stabbed the needle into the crook of my arm. The sharp prick heralded more doom.
Instantly, the heat of my fever was replaced with numbness. My head lolled on my shoulders as liquid horror made its way around my body—stealing limb control, turning the volume down on my soul.
My personality faded, muted by distance and echoes. The drug stole my thoughts on why I should care, blurred boundaries of right and wrong.
I screamed silently as I drowned in venomous smog until finally I sighed, completely dead inside.
Leather Jacket chuckled, speaking in a string of words that made no sense. His head seemed to swell to gigantic proportions, and I giggled.
He’s a f**king idiot—he can’t even speak properly.
Visions of dancing alphabets kept me company. Vowels pranced by in drag; consonants strutted past in dominatrix wear. An S tangoed with an X, while the Q—
Fuck, the Q.
Why did I hold such fondness for that letter? Such a lifeless character and yet it dragged hot, determined emotion from the dregs of my heart.
That letter belonged to someone else, someone worthy, not the drugged captive.
A heavy wall of nausea slammed into me, chasing lethargic blood, trying to remember.
I flinched as Leather Jacket squeezed my breast and breathed hot on my face. “Forget everything you ever knew, bitch. You thought Mexico was bad? That was f**king Disney World compared to this carnival ride. You aren’t human anymore.”
His slimy hands twisted my nipple, cutting through the haze like a whiplash. “I’m going to enjoy every moment we have together. You’ll never know what’s coming, you’ll never heal. The drugs will turn you against everything you’ve ever known. They’ll tear your brain apart with hallucinations. I’m gonna f**k you up, pretty girl, and there’s nothing you can do about it.”
His touch dropped from my breast to between my legs and squeezed. “Then let’s see you fight.”
*****
Roast chicken.
The smell of delicious food roused me from my drug-coma, fluttering my eyes back to the world of the living.
The moment I woke, I wanted to descend back into the fog-filled abyss I’d lived in since Leather Jacket made promises that made me want to slit my wrists and paint my cell red.
“Hello, girl. How pleasant to see you again.”
The man who ran the operation—the same one who ordered me to be drugged and stuffed on a plane bound for Paris—sat on the edge of my pallet. His sky blue eyes, so like Brax’s, reminded me how drastically my life had changed. His perfect clothes and blond shaggy hair looked as if he’d stepped from an Aussie beach and needed a surfboard under his arm.
“Here, let me help you up.” His hands scooped under my arm, levering me into a slouch. I wiped away drool from the corner of my mouth as fumbling life came back into my body.
My eyes latched onto the platter of chicken, vegetables, and bread. Gone was the ability to think. My stomach roared and stabbed with a thousand desperately hungry knifes.
White Man chuckled, nodding. “That’s for you. If you do what I say.”
Shit. What the hell did he want? What more could I give?
“Esclave, don’t give up. Stay alive. For me.”
Tears pressed and every regret I felt for pushing Q too far choked me. I should never have made him come that morning. I should’ve thanked him for every bit of attention and fair treatment he gave me. Why would he come for someone who promised to make his life hell so she could own him?
Why did you push him away?
My mind couldn’t focus anymore—everything was upside down, back to front.
Suddenly, no matter how hungry I was, I couldn’t stand the thought of eating. My heart was empty; my stomach should be, too.
White Man ran a fingertip along the back of my hand. “Stop thinking. It gets easier if you let the drugs take you.”
A loud cough stole my oxygen, racking my body with barks. Once the spell was over, I looked up with watery eyes, begging him to let me go. “Please. I’ll do whatever you want.”
He stiffened, and shadows lined his face. “You didn’t do what I wanted the first time. I must say, I’ve never had a client demand us to collect his purchase before. I almost didn’t agree—after all, it’s not my business once monies have been exchanged—but the Red Wolverine had a very valid point.”
I gulped, hanging my head. What did I do wrong as a slave? I fell for my master. I taught him that two people could be perfect for each other. What was so wrong about that?
White Man continued. “I grow rather close to the clients who buy merchandise from me. So you can imagine I want to maintain a happy relationship with them. This particular buyer sent us to collect you for a rather unforgivable reason.”
He stopped, buffing his fingernails on his trousers. “Do you want to know what you did wrong?” Not waiting for my reply, he carried on, “He bartered you for a business transaction. That same business transaction met with…difficulties.” He laughed. “Of course, it does help that he paid double what you cost with strict orders to ruin you.”
My eyes shot to his, trying to unscramble the mess of sentences. Drugs clouded me, leaving me in a stark reality where I could only hope death was short and fast.
As a last resort, I asked, “How much did I cost? I’ll buy myself. You’re a businessman, let me make it worth your while.”
Q would give me the money. I had no doubt about that.
White Man stood, throwing his head back in mirth. “You’re worth more to me than money now, girl. You see, my orders are simple.” His eyes narrowed and all humanity dissolved—I stared into a killer’s soul. “You are to be unrepairable. And after your little stay with us before, I know your strength lies in your mind. You won’t be broken by physical abuse—your key to breaking is something harder. Something I haven’t come across, but I’m looking forward to seeing put into action.”
He leaned down, eyes looking deep into mine. His cologne gagged me with its cloying, syrupy stench. His blue gaze ripped me into bleeding pieces. “You will work for me. You will do what I say, when I say it. You will beat other women. You will hurt them so f**king bad their minds will shatter and you’ll wear their lives on your soul. If you don’t do what I tell you, I’ll kill them to make you obey.” He grabbed my chin; his Mediterranean accent snapped every word into violent shards. “Do you understand?”
I understood. I understood that I would become well and truly deformed as a human being. I would be made to abuse other women in order to keep them alive.
No.
I wrenched my face out of his iron grip, glaring. “I’ll give you a million dollars to release me. Give me access to a phone and the money can be in your account tonight.”
And then Q will rip your intestines from your stomach and burn you alive, you bastard.
He stood, smoothing his black shirt and jeans. “You’re a fighter to the end. I respect that. But the next time I see you, if you speak back, you’ll regret it.”
I had every intention of fighting back. I would make them hurt me. I would never be responsible for another woman’s spiral into madness.
“You’re worth more than dollar signs now, girl. Better get used to taking orders.”
He pushed the plate of food toward me before striding toward the door. “Enjoy your last meal as a free woman. Tomorrow you belong to me, and you’ll have a full day’s work ahead of you.”
The door slammed behind him, resonating in my barren cell. The fever roared in my blood, making me weak and terrified.
I was no longer merchandise. I was an employee.