“Something to help you remember your place,” He smirked, nodding to his men. “Hold her still.”
“Ajay, don’t—” I struggled, but he didn't listen.
Stepping close, the needle glinting under the vanity lights, he shoved my sleeve up and plunged it into my arm.
I cried out from the fear enveloping me, the cold liquid entering my vein, spreading fast.
“Take her home,” Ajay ordered, stepping back, adjusting his cuffs.
My knees buckled. The men yanked me upright as the room began to tilt, the edges of my vision blurring, the lights stretching into long, bright streaks. I tried to fight, tried to call for help, but the drug weighed down on me, smothering my responses. My thoughts slowed and my limbs turned into lead.
As they dragged me out of the bathroom, through the quiet restaurant, and into the night air, the last thing I saw was Ajay watching from the doorway. Unsmiling, he looked like a man who had just declared war.
And I was too weak to stop him.
sixty-eight
. . .
Ishika– 32 years old
My body hurt.
That was the first thing I noticed when my eyelids popped open. Lying with my cheek flat against a white sheet, I stared at the unfamiliar curtains, momentarily dazed. The light filtering through was too bright, sharp, slicing through the fog in my brain.
Where am I?
A niggle of anxiety touched my breathing and I pushed up on my hands, my shoulders objecting to the force I applied to them. My muscles felt heavy, leaden.
“What the hell happened last night?” I mumbled, noticing the thickened slur to my voice.
Flipping over onto my back, I couldn’t hold in the groan slipping from my lips as I sat up, eyeing the peach and white bedroom with a lot more panic.
Whose bedroom is this?
I tried piecing together the last of my memory. All I remembered though, was the drink Ajay handed me when we sat down to dinner. I couldn’t tell what we ordered, the color of thetablecloth, the name of our waiter or the kind of music playing in background. A black hole where hours of my life should’ve been.
I refused to acknowledge the notion that I’d allowed Ajay to go to third or fourth base when we hadn’t even explored the first. Not that I wanted to since Remo seemed to be the only man my body craved. The thought of him sent a sharp pang through my chest, followed immediately by a protective instinct over my stomach.
What if Ajay raped me? What if the baby…?
That gut punched me into vaulting off the bed and blindly rushing around the room until I located the ensuite bathroom. Inside, I stared at my flushed skin draped in a blue negligee I had no recollection of slipping into, my hair a tangled mess of knots and streaks of mascara tainting my cheeks.
“Please, God.” I tore off the silky material in a frantic tug, inspecting my body in the long mirror.
Except for dark blue rings around my throat and biceps, there was no other visible marks. I touched the blotches on my arms, wincing at the slight pain. Someone had gripped me with enough force to bruise my skin. I turned sideways, exhaling only when I saw the flat curve of my abdomen untouched.
Frustrated, I reached for a bathrobe hanging on a hook, poked my arms through the sleeves, knotted the belt then grabbed the torn negligee and stepped out of the bathroom intent on getting answers. However, the sight of my sister, paused my feet. Garbed in her usual black tank and dark chinos, she lounged against the window I assumed she’d come through.
Immediately, the anxiety dissipated, leaving in its wake a sense of calm her appearance always seemed to bring. With her around, I felt safe, protected, knowing she’d never let anything happen to me.
“Where am I?”
She chuckled before answering, “Ajay’s estate, well, his father’s to be precise.”
I frowned. “His home?” She nodded. I’d been to his home, never the bedrooms though, there was never a reason to. “Do you know if he…” I trailed off, unable to say the words.
“Raped you?” At my nod, she shook her head. “I wouldn’t say rape, more handsy trying to get to first base in the restaurant bathroom but you fought him off.”
