“Hey, man,” Edwin calls out, voice trembling with nerves. “Maybe ease up a little. You said you wanted her for a movie. You didn’t say nothing about hurting her.”
Miracle of miracles, the words strike home. Jerred pushes me, his smile spreading as I scream at the renewed pain from my shattered foot.
I turn to the investigator. “You know he’s going to kill me, right? That’s what you were paid to do. Bring me here so he could kill me.”
“What he does with you is nothing to do with me.”
Edwin’s eyes shift to the side, seeking escape. His hands clench into fists and relax, clench and relax. His torso turns to the side, towards the car, subconsciously seeking an escape.
“It’s murder. You kidnapped me and brought me here. When he kills me, you’re part of it. You’re the reason I’m here. It’s murder.”
“Like you haven’t murdered someone already this week, you bitch,” Jerred snaps, losing his patience and grabbing me firmly by the upper arm. “Same as your mother. Always pretending you’re so high and mighty when you’re really living so deep in the muck, you’d have to burrow upwards for a day to see daylight.”
“Ooh. How poetic.”
He slaps me, then slaps me again. My face is already so swollen from his earlier blows that it’s numb to the pain.
“Trent is going to track you down,” I say, staring at Jerred but speaking to Edwin, trying to play on the tiny connection we forged on the day we played cards. “He’ll find you and he’ll find anyone you love, and he’ll show you what it means to be hurt.”
“Or your rich boyfriend will buy himself a new playmate.” Jerred’s gaze traverses from head to toe, then flicks away in dismissal. “Maybe he’ll find himself a matching heiress. One who hasn’t spent half her life being fucked for cash.”
My fist shoots out, catching him high on the cheekbone. The pain in my knuckles is immediate and intense, taking me by surprise. I haven’t thrown a punch before, except in play. I didn’t know how much it would hurt.
The blow won’t win my freedom, but the satisfaction is immense. Until he stamps on my injured foot again.
Everything in the world greys out and I wait, holding my breath, thinking it will come back.
It doesn’t. I tip forward, falling through time and space, falling into a deep dark hole that never seems to end.
* * *
I cometo with a bucket of icy water in the face. My wrists are bound, tied above my head. I’m lying on the right side of a bed, the left covered with an assortment of tools that I don’t want to think about. Rope. A hammer. Some sex toys.
Jerred barks out a laugh at my distress, and I match with one of mine when I get my first sight at his face.
His eye is swollen and watery, a thin tear trickling from the corner.
Pretty sure he’s winning the beating-the-shit-out-of-your-opponent challenge, but it’s deeply satisfying to see the results of my one blow.
“Are you winking at me or are you just a pussy who doesn’t know when to duck?”
“And it speaks.” He shakes his head. “At least, it speaks until I decide to shove something in its big fat mouth.”
“Better not be your dick or you’re losing it.” I conjure a sweet smile up from some deep reserves I didn’t know I had. “I wouldn’t mind having something to chew on. Nom. Nom. Nom.”
There are too many points of pain for me to number. My foot is the worst, each slight change in position sending bolts of agony straight up my leg, biting nerves along the way.
“You want to fuck her, now’s your chance,” Jerred says, turning to Edwin. “Later on, she won’t look nearly so pretty.”
He reaches over me, picking up the hammer and hefting it in his hands while I try not to think of where it might land, how it might feel, what damage it might do.
“Better wrap it up before you do. No telling where this one’s been.”
Edwin shakes his head and Jerred narrows his eyes at him. “What’s the matter? You don’t fuck girls?”
“Not like this.”
He’s shaking and I wonder if something more happened while I was knocked out.
