“I hated middle school, but I wasn’t… popular. I was the girl with greasy hair and a book in her hands.”
“You don’t seem like that kind of girl.”
I laugh. “Well, I grew up and have big girl money to buy good shampoo.”
“And the book?”
“I’m a librarian, so that didn’t change.”
“That’s cool,” she says, shifting on the bed.
She’s covered in what looks like weeks of filth, her hands covered in a sheen of mud I long to ask about, but I don’t know if I’m ready for the answer as to how she got so dirty.
“No, it’s not. But it’s kind of you to pretend.” I wink at her as she giggles.
The door abruptly opens, and my leg presses down over the gun at the same time Charlotte’s eyes flick towards it.
I give her a subtle nod, and she looks towards Helms as she lifts her gag back into her mouth.
“Shut the fuck up in here!”
So, therearecameras with sound.
Shit.
He doesn’t immediately go for the gun, so it leaves me wondering if sound is all he has in here, but still…
“This isn’t social hour. You,” he points at Charlotte, “leave your fucking gag on.”
His eyes flick to mine as he removes a scrap of dirty towel from his back pocket. “Now, to get yours in place.”
There’s no way to get the gun out from under my leg without turning my entire body to do so.
My cuffs are attached to a chain that runs to the end of the bed, limiting my movement.
Helms has to lean over my body, one knee pressed into the threadbare mattress to get close to my face.
“It’s a shame, you know. In another world, we could’ve been something…”
What the fuck is he talking about?
“You would’ve liked me more, you know? If you met me before him.” He ties the gag around my head, and the tang of some oil burns my lips and nose as I breathe it in. “Maybe you still could…”
He lingers, tucking some hair behind my ear, and I look over toward Charlotte, blinking at her to tell her to close her eyes.
I don’t have the gun, but I’m not going to let her witness whatever he’s about to do.
It’s bad enough that I’ll have to live with it. She doesn’t need to.
Helms’s hand slides down over my breast, squeezing like a man who has no idea what makes a woman tick, no clue how to bring anything other than pain.
“We could have so much fun, you and I. You just have to behave for me until this is over. I could make you mine. Wouldn’t you like that? A senator’s wife. Think of the things I could give you. The places I could take you.”
His hand on my stomach causes it to churn.
I feel movement beneath my leg, and my eyes flick toward Charlotte, who not only has her eyes open but is wiggling her foot beneath my leg slowly, attempting to get the gun free.
So, when Helms attempts to touch me, his hand cupping my sex just as roughly as he had my breast, I arch into him, bending my legs and opening them, as I would for Koen.
