“Oh yes, the benevolent rapist. You’re going straight to heaven.”
“Do you realize the only reason you aren’t dead yet is because of me? Again? I saved you again. Your account was set for your organs to be harvested after they zapped and drowned you downstairs. The minute I was alerted you were here and the stupid-as-fuck thing you’d done, I switched your account with another girl. Her death is on you, for your stupidity. Do you want to know how old she was?” The last two sentences were whispered.
I swallowed hard, squirmed, and shook my head. “No…”
“Ten. She was ten years old. Arrived on exactly the same day as you. And I killed her for you.”
The guilt stabbed me so deeply the fat tears fell straight down.I didn’t mean for any of this to happen. I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry.
“Tell me, do you ever think long-term? Do you ever think, if I kill this guy, I may piss off some people here, making it next to impossible to not get slaughtered. Do you know how many favors I had to call in and chess pieces I had to move?”
He was so good at twisting the knife.A little girl…
“You want a taste of a real rapist?” His face was against mine. His breath smelled of alcohol. Even though my heart was hammering with fear, I held his glare. But then I felt it, the magnetic force between us, and that scared me even more. His gaze collapsed to my lips and stayed there. His eyebrows creased, as if all he’d ever wanted was to kiss me. He’d never done that, kissed me.
“No, thank you. I’m an expert at being raped, remember? Since you and your friends did a great job last time… Or remember when I was that ten-year-old girl? Cause we both know you were there and participated then too, right?”
I had hoped that wasn’t the case. God, I had thought about it a million times, questioned it, and lied to myself over and over again. It wasn’t that I remembered, I was fooling him into believing I did, and I could tell by the way his gaze dropped and his face grew pale, then green as if he had to vomit. His eyes were so intense, almost bulging.
Then I wanted to know how bad it had been that my rapist felt that sick and sorry for me. How bad had it been that I didn’t remember even a second of it. Quickly, I stabbed him while he was at his weakest by whispering, “Trust me. If I am to blame for her death, then she should thank me as much as I should thank you. The thing you will never understand,Sir, is that no ten-year-old would want to live through what you put me through.”
Slowly, his gaze climbed back up to my eyes, and I lifted my chin.
He threw my arm, unbalancing me as he shouted, “Hands and knees!”
The angry bull had returned.
I gasped and dropped to the floor without thinking. The movement shot pain to the deepest muscles in my butt. A wail coursed through me. I had no strength. Within a second, I stopped staring at the carpet while sobbing and panting, gripping the soft threads in my fist. I was back on the stage, footfalls on the wooden floor getting closer and closer, louder and louder, my heart thumping in my ears. Suddenly thewhooshbroke silence.
“Ahhhhh!” I screamed, shaking, and shut my eyes as tight as possible, cringing away from the paddle that was about to hit me. “Nooooo! Please! Please. Please don’t hit me. Please. I’m sorry.” The black spots dissolved, giving way to the soft threads of the carpet stuck to my sweaty hand as I yanked at it more and more. Oh-too slowly, it brought me back to the room.I’m safe. I’m safe. No paddle here. I’m safe.I gasped for air. Fat drops of sweat fell from my forehead to the carpet.
I didn’t need much of another reminder of how terrible he could be, not that day. But how shocking that his command already had this much power over me. God, if he could get me this pathetic in two days, what could he accomplish in five? Or in a month? I couldn’t help wincing and shaking my head at the thought. The only reason I didn’t throw up was because I had no food in my system. I lifted my gaze to him. He studied me without a drop of empathy in his eyes, in fact, they carried anger.
“Goddammit, Magdalena.” He shook his head. “That mouth of yours is gonna get us both killed.” I couldn’t even remember what we had been talking about. My mind was fried. My insolent but true words took their time snapping back to my mind. Howwould he punish my defiance? Too many possibilities crossed my mind, each dialing up my horror. Tears trailed down my nose and cheeks while I kept my head low, my eyes to the ground.
This time, I wasn’t acting.
I just wish he could… love me.The thought surprised me. But why did I need that from him? It wasn’t like I was in love with him. That would’ve been absurd. No. It wasn’t that I loved him, I was just wanting some sympathy. How could he be just fine selling me? He owed me so much more than that. He owed me my sanity.
He sighed. And from the corner of my eye, I watched him walk up to a small golden bar on wheels and serve himself a glass full of a brown drink. He drank it all down.
“Get into bed, Magdalena. You need to rest.” There was no aggression in his words. It wasn’t an order either. After grabbing himself the drink, he walked up to the window, leaned one arm on the glass, overlooking the world below him as if he owned it. “We’re both tired,” he added.
“I would appreciate a shower… alone… Sir.”
“Fine.” The annoyance rang clear in his tone.
“And—”
He turned his face toward me. “What? Out with it. Don’t bother acting like some innocent, timid, obedient slave, Little One. It comes off too fake for me since I know better now.”
It was another stabbing, another twisting of the knife from him. Sir didn’t love me, he hated me. I nodded once and kept my eyes to the carpet. His words shouldn’t have bothered me because I hated him. All he’d ever done was hurt me or watch someone do it. Why would I expect anything else? I hated him, yet his words hurt my worthless stupid heart.Why?
My pride didn’t let me pronounce the words. I’d grown up in the richest society on earth, gone to the best schools, and managed to always be at the top of my class. Never did Ithink I’d end up begging for food. But achievements, class, and blood lines have never been dependable predictors of a woman’s future. They’ve never mattered. “I haven’t eaten in two days. May I?—”
“Fine. I’ll order food. You can eat after the shower, and then get your bleeding ass straight to bed,” he commanded as I walked to the bathroom.
“Yes, Sir.”
