“Em?” a hoarse voice croaks, and I almost weep in relief.
“Sam, thank fuck! Are you okay?”
“Yeah, I must have passed out,” he admits, his face red with embarrassment.
Cutting my gaze to Purge, who is standing at the foot of the bed, I ask, “Is he okay enough to continue?”
“Yeah, Iskra. As long as he feels up to it.”
“Damn straight I am,” Sam says, walking around the bed to reach Betty.
“You have the floor,” I tell my Golden-Eyed Boy.
Sam bends at the waist to stare hard at Betty. “Do you recognize me?”
“Why would I recognize you, boy?” she spits.
“Look closer... Mother,” Sam sneers, curling up his lip.
Betty gasps, and Matthew just looks confused.
I squeeze Matthew’s neck a bit tighter. “What’s wrong, Matty? Are you confused?”
“Explain. Now,” Sam orders Betty.
“I am sure I don’t know...” Betty tries with a haughty expression, but Sam grabs her hair with his undamaged arm, yanking her head back hard.
“Betty? What are they talking about?” Matthew asks in a raspy voice.
Sam and I hold our ground.
Finally, the bitch speaks.
“I had an affair with Mr. Volkov many years ago. I fell pregnant, and the child was given to him when he was born.”
Matthew curses, and I let him go, amused. “What the hell? Not only were you unfaithful, but you had a child? And I never knew?” Matthew’s eyes grow large in shock.
“I have been stuck in The Retreat this whole time! Tortured, abused, raped, starved! It's your fault, you whore!” Sam screams, his vocal cords straining.
I look fondly at him, so proud he was able to say the words he needed to. Now... it’s my fucking turn.
“Betty, did you know your perverted husband fucking raped me?” I say.
Betty screeches, her hands curled into claws. “You... you—” she sputters, unable to finish her sentence.
The two of them start fighting, but I shout over them.
“I’m not fucking done! You fuckers kidnapped me, beaten and drugged me, starved me, locked me up, and gave sick old men access to my body. You will die for your sins!”
Betty and Matthew stare at me bug-eyed.
“You don’t have the courage, you little—” Betty starts to say.
I cut her off by punching her hard in the mouth. A couple of teeth fly out, making me giddy.
Betty manages to slide her hand under her pillow, brandishing a knife. It happens so fast; I don’t realize what's going on until the blade comes into contact with the side of my neck.
I shriek; adrenaline spurring me to punch her several more times. I feel blood running slowly down my neck, and I slap my hand to it. It's just trickling out and feels shallow.
