Total pages in book: 85
Estimated words: 80102 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 401(@200wpm)___ 320(@250wpm)___ 267(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 80102 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 401(@200wpm)___ 320(@250wpm)___ 267(@300wpm)
I’ve heard the men whisper about the amounts people are willing to pay to do such depraved things. To be able to do it and not have it recorded comes at a high price. One too many people are willing to pay for the opportunity.
I can’t count how many times I’ve been threatened with a tape being sent to Alani or the police. Even if I manage to escape and save my sister, my life would be ruined. They have me on so many different tapes, doing so many illegal things. I learned long before that they didn’t have to threaten me in the moment to get me to comply, so it’s not like there are voices in the background, telling me my sister will die if I argue. I accepted that this will be what my life looks like until I’m no longer needed. It makes me wonder if I didn’t have the medical skills that I possess, if they would’ve already killed me. Some nights I let myself imagine that even when they no longer consider me helpful that they’ll let my sister live. I pray she’s too much trouble to bother with once my time is done. It’s the only thing keeping me going most days.
The man winces, his body jerking to the side in a way that tells me he just can’t help it when I press the gauze to his skin.
It takes me well over an hour to stitch closed his wounds, each second spent with me wondering just how much infection I’m closing inside. I can tell he’s a fighter, that he’s trying to stay brave with the way he clenches his jaw each time my needle pierces his skin. His bravery only means they’ll hurt him more before they kill him.
I want to tell him the quicker he gives into the pain, the faster it will all stop. The best he can hope for is death.
“Leave that one,” Pirro instructs when I reach for the shallow incision on the left side of his ribcage.
I move on, adding more antiseptic to a clean piece of gauze before pressing it to a spot on his back that looks similar to the way the area would look when skin has been excised for a graft. Sometimes Pirro likes to get creative when he hurts others.
“Leave that one alone, too,” the demon demands.
I pull my hands back, giving the man a final once-over. I step back when I find nothing else to treat.
“Clean his entire body,” Pirro says, kicking a bucket of soapy water. Water sloshes over the edge, making me realize just how cold it is when I step forward, the water that spilled chilling my bare feet.
“Nice and slow,” Pirro commands. “I want him to enjoy it.”
My throat threatens to seize as I reach into the bucket for the sponge. I know exactly what the man is asking, and I have a good idea of where this is going. It’s not going to be something either one of us enjoys.
Chapter 4
Nash
“Nice and slow. I want him to enjoy it.”
The sound of Pirro’s voice has always gotten on my nerves, but the irritation I felt losing money to him playing poker is nothing compared to the way I hate the sound of it now.
I’m torn between fighting and acting as bravely as I can manage. I doubt kicking and screaming would change the trajectory of what happens next, any more than being quiet would. I know for my own sake, I need to face this with as much dignity as I can manage.
I wince, my body controlling my reaction to the cold cloth pressed to my shoulder blade. I don’t know why I expected warmth when Pirro instructed the woman to clean me.
I also don’t want to evaluate why I’m a little calmer, knowing they are feminine hands touching me rather than those of a man.
It doesn’t stop my skin from crawling, knowing that I’m being touched without my permission. Although this doesn’t feel like any type of sexual assault yet, I’ve never given up power in the bedroom or elsewhere. I hate the complacency I’m attempting. It’s not like I think Pirro will commend me for behaving in a certain way and release me. I’m also not foolish enough to give them any reason to end me before I have the chance to fight back. I refuse to imagine it all ending for me this way, that I’ll die before I get to claim a pound of his flesh.
My back molars make an awful noise, grinding together as the cold rag runs down the length of one arm. I don’t think my body will ever have the chance to get used to what’s happening to it. It’s nothing like submerging your entire body in cold water. There’s no possibility of acclimation as she moves from one area to the next.